“Well, now I know you slept with her, cariño. All I meant was her baking skillsand the need for her fingers there.”
Paloma closed her eyes and let her forehead fall to the cool glass as Elinor chuckled in her ear.
“It’s not that terrible, actually. Yes, even New York is a small town when it comes to lesbians. She did leave a mark, but nobody can say a bad word about her, you know? I think the lesbians here did what we lesbians always do when a handsome,capable woman who can cook a mean breakfast after breaking your bed frame leaves us. I’d say she was always a dog, but that didn’t stop anyone from really wanting her to stay because the rumors about how good she is?—”
“Elinor, let’s please drop the subject of Crowha… My girlfriend. Or her sexual prowess. Or how the New York lesbians miss her, okay?” Paloma sighed and rubbed at her temple, where she felt a headache beginning.
“Fine, fine, though I have to warn you, it’s not just New York and not just lesbians. Your Crowhart is delightfully nondiscriminatory. Not men, dearest, but everyone else?—”
“Elinor!” Paloma was forced to raise her voice, exasperated yet again.
“You never could take a joke. Also, you could never lie for shit to anyone who really knows you. And I may be one of the very privileged few. You might’ve slept with Crowhart, but you’re not together for real, so what’s the story?” Before Paloma could say something, Elinor jumped to conclusions all on her own. “Is this about this election debacle of yours? Tell me about it. Like, in general, not involving the fake girlfriend part.” The non sequitur was jarring enough to make Paloma flinch. Trust Elinor to jump from one painful subject to another.
“There’s nothing to tell, yet. It’s still a ways away.”
There was a tsk on the line, and Paloma relented.
“I am not in the habit of losing, and you know it. Yes, the famous local girlfriend plot does help. My giant, new personal assistant has me doing twenty thousand public events accompanied by the glamorous and personable celebrity chef who also happens to be the prodigal daughter of the island.”
“You aren’t glamorous enough? I grant him the personable part.”
“Ouch!” Paloma growled, and Elinor laughed.
“See? That’s more you. The growl. Power is sexy. Power is seductive. I don’t think it’s particularly cuddly or comforting. Certainly not motherly.”
“Elinor, Christ, the douchebag running against me is a man. How motherly is that?”
There was a sigh and a pause before Elinor spoke again.
“You know perfectly well that it isn’t. And yet the motherly, cozy, and sweet is expected only from a woman, never from a man. All he has to be is authoritative and strong. Funnily enough, all the things that you are.”
Yes, Paloma was well aware.
“Hence the easygoing, celebrity baker,” Paloma forced herself to say.
There was another pause, and then Elinor exhaled loudly.
“This is such a stupid stereotype. And it’s so fucking unfair.”
Paloma’s phone pinged next to her ear with an incoming message, and she lowered her hand to check it. A picture of John Moss’s douchey face, grinning widely in the middle of the Rooster, with the wordsHe bought a round for every patronfrom Lachlan, greeted her. Sighing was useless at this point.
Another text, followed by one more in quick succession, interrupted her eye roll.
He is being praised as a man of the people.
A series of throwing-up emojis popped up on her screen.
“Are you getting sexts from your hot fake girlfriend?” Elinor chuckled, and Paloma decided to deal with the texts later.
“No. Campaign business.”
“Do I hear ‘sadly’ in that reply?” Elinor’s voice went up a register, a touch too high for her liking.
“It’s late. And I’m pissed, Elinor. This guy is a fool and a buffoon, and yet here he is, getting drinks with the good people of the town, and they embrace him, praise him, hug him, act like he is their savior from the Big Bad Outsider.”
All slyness and teasing vanished from Elinor’s voice.
“And you can’t ever show them how much that angers you, cariño.”
