Page 36 of Meet Me on Greenwood

"I don’t understand what you mean."

I shook my head. "I can’t explain it. Just look into her."

"Okay, but I might have her stay somewhere else before Ms. Page finds out how pretty she is," C.J. said.

Gema leaned back to laugh at something Rita said, and my eyes caught on the way her chest constricted against the tight bodice of her dress.

"That is part of the reason I invited you here," I said.

16

Gema

May Stay in Tulsa

"You have to come to the jazz club with me. Father never lets me go, but I bet if I had a companion, he might. Do you like jazz?" Rita asked.

"I don’t know. I suppose I’ve never really given it a chance," I said.

Her eyes went wide as if she’d just heard something genuinely tragic. "Oh, I just love it, especially the dancing," she said with a wink.

"I’ve never been good at that."

"I’ll just have to teach you," she said, putting her arm through mine. "We are going to be good friends. I can already tell."

"How is that? We just met."

"I just can. So, in the spirit of friendship, tell me how is it living up here with Dr. Whitaker?" She patted my arm, adding a mischievous grin.

I shrugged. "He is very kind."

She smiled. "How kind?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean has anything—happened between the two of you?"

"No," I said incredulous. "Wouldn’t an interracial couple be frowned upon?"

She lowered her voice. "Well, of course, but that doesn’t stop it from happening. You two being out here alone, I wouldn’t be surprised if—"

"It’s nothing like that," I said quickly needing for this conversation to end.

She frowned as if genuinely disappointed. "Darn, I was hoping for some good gossip. He is attractive—for one of them, and he is a doctor! I wouldn’t blame you if you had."

"Isn’t he engaged?"

Rita groaned. "To the worst woman you will ever meet. My friend Ceci works out of her house and says she’s cruel. You could not pay me enough to ever willingly cross paths with Sarah Page."

"Do you really not work?"

She shrugged. "I haven’t found my passion yet. Father sent me to school, but all I did was flirt and go to the parties, so he made me come home. He tried to set me up at the paper, but I haven’t been too interested in that either. I don’t know if I’ll ever work honestly."

My eyebrows raised at that. "Your father will allow that?"

"Why not? He’s made more than enough. Most of the socialites don’t work, other than on finding good husbands."

This was shocking to hear. Though my own family was wealthy, my father came from nothing. He believed in hard work rather than trust funds. Even until his end, he’d lived up to that. "I didn’t realize."