“Since you’re Paul’s widow? Nah. I want you happy.” She took a sip of her drink.
Sadia squared her shoulders. “I’m not going overboard. I realized I’ll be hitting thirty soon. It feels like I should do something new and exciting.”
Sadia mommed everyone so well, Livvy felt like she could be forgiven for forgetting the other woman was younger than her. “Thirty makes you rethink things, for sure. It’s the new twenty, though, or so I hear.”
“Will I get back the ass I had at twenty?”
“No, just the financial stress and the sinking feeling that you don’t know what to do with your life.”
“I’d rather have the ass.”
“That blonde doesn’t seem to mind your ass.”
Sadia leaned forward more, slightly arching her back. “You sure?”
Livvy studied the patron out of the corner of her eye. “Uh-huh.”
Sadia gave another surreptitious glance down the bar and her brown skin darkened. “Ahem. I suppose I should go freshen her drink.”
“Is that what they’re calling it now?”
Sadia’s quelling look only made Livvy chuckle, reminding her of their teenage years when they had snuggled in twin beds in her room, giggling over crushes. Then Sadia had fallen for her brother, and giggling over crushes had been a bit more awkward.
Sadia started to walk away, but then froze, looking out at the floor of the bar. Confusion wrinkled her brow. “Huh.”
“What?”
Sadia’s face went blank. “Nothing. Hey, do you want to go sit on the patio?” A fixed smile appeared. “It’s so beautiful out tonight.”
Sadia was really shitty at subterfuge. “It’s cold and gonna drizzle any minute,” Livvy said, and glanced over her shoulder, wondering what had made Sadia’s eyes widen.
It was almost midnight, so the crowd had grown over the last hour. Her eye was caught by a small, plump woman sitting alone in a booth, mostly because of the way she was dressed, buttoned up in an expensive black trench coat, pink scarf draped over her head, and oversized sunglasses. “Who’s the movie star—” The woman turned her head. Though her eyes were hidden, Livvy could tell the girl was looking at her. She cocked her head, and the gesture, combined with the familiar curve of her cheek, made the breath strangle in Livvy’s throat. “Oh.”
The last time she’d seen Evangeline Chandler, the night before the accident, she’d been a quiet, shy thirteen-year-old, asking Livvy to read one of her favorite books with her.
Gossip had it that the girl had had to be sedated when she’d been told her mother died.
Livvy jerked around. “Has she come here before?”
Sadia didn’t bother to pretend she hadn’t also recognized the woman. “I’m not sure. She’s not exactly our type of clientele. I’ve only seen her once or twice over the years. She keeps to herself.” Sadia watched Livvy with great concern. “Are you okay?”
“Sure.” No, she was not, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. “Are you? With her being here?”
Sadia gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t subscribe to this family feud, love. As far as I’m concerned, I’m neutral ground.”
Livvy didn’t subscribe to the feud either. It had been forced upon her. “That’s good. I mean, she has as much right to be here as anyone else.”
“Now, if she upsets you, I will—”
“Kill her, stab her, trip her. I know.”
“Do you want my car keys? You can go home now and come back and get me when my shift’s over.”
She wanted to say yes, so badly. Her stomach was in knots all over again. Whatever relaxation she’d won in the last couple of hours had disappeared.
A man from down the bar loudly hailed Sadia. “Hey, we gonna get some service here?”
A rare flash of temper lit Sadia’s eyes. “Asshole,” she muttered.
