Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“It’s fine.” I wave a careless hand, like the incident didn’t spark a huge fight between Deja and me.
“And you should share when one of your peers is doing something dangerous,” Soledad says, her delicate brows knit into a frown. “A friend’s safety is most important.”
“She skipped English,” Lupe says dryly. “You make it sound like she was smoking meth and dancing naked down the halls. Mom, you gotta stop watching Euphoria.”
“But I love those crazy kids,” Soledad pouts, amusement glinting in her dark eyes. “Here come yours, Yas.”
I turn my head and grin at Kassim walking swiftly across the lawn toward us, Otis close on his heels. Deja follows at the pace of Do I really have to be here, but even that doesn’t dim my spirits. It’s the last breath of summer. I’m back in the groove, working, mentally and emotionally stable, healthy in body and spirit, surrounded by friends. The best friends I’ve had maybe ever.
I bring a forkful of quiche to my mouth just as Josiah and Vashti come into sight, trailing behind Deja.
Hand. In. Fucking. Hand.
My Zen bubble pops.
I try to take mindful breaths like my therapist, Dr. Abrams, taught me. I reach for the 4-7-8 breathing from yoga class. None of it works. Each breath is chopped up in my lungs and stutters past my lips.
It’s been almost two years. You knew this would happen. He’d find someone else and you’d have to see them together. It shouldn’t bother you this much.
“Fix your face,” Hendrix says from the corner of her mouth. “You look like someone just punched you in the gut.”
I glance from the approaching couple to my friend. She lifts her brows and hands me a glass of rosé. “You all right?”
“Uh, yeah. Of course.” I gulp the cool drink and school my features into the smooth facade of the unfazed. “I just—”
“Wasn’t prepared to see your ex quite so moved on?” Hendrix discreetly glances over my shoulder. “Well, get more prepared. They’re almost here, and she does not get to see how much it bothers you. Right now, ma’am, I need you to find your happy place, go there, and bring a bad bitch back.”
“Got it. I can do that.”
Bad bitch.
Bad bitch.
Bad bitch.
The mantra is still chanting in my head by the time Josiah and Vashti reach us.
“Hey,” Josiah greets us all with one word and a cursory glance.
Everyone murmurs a response, but I’m not the only one feeling the tension. A few people around us are staring at the family theater playing out on the lawn like it’s better than the movie. This is high drama for our quaint little neighborhood. It’s hot news when the couple most likely to make it last forever…doesn’t, and the husband shows up holding another woman’s hand. Josiah spreads a large blanket in a spot adjacent to ours.
Great. A front-row seat to Vashti sending Josiah disgusting looks of adoration every three seconds. My night can’t get any worse.
“Hi, Mom,” Deja drawls, sitting at the juncture of the two blankets.
I spoke too soon. I’m sure Deja will find wildly inventive ways to make this night worse.
“This quiche is delicious, Soledad,” Vashti says before taking a sip of her rosé. “Thanks for sharing your dinner.”
“Coming from you, that’s high praise,” Soledad says and then sends me a quick look of apology like she offered shelter to Regina George. Josiah and Vashti doing things as a couple with my kids feels so…settled, like they’re already this unit completely separate from me. Not quite blended. I’m not angry—Josiah and I discussed this—but it will take some getting used to.
“Oh, incoming.” Hendrix elbows me and pinches Soledad.
“Ow!” Soledad squawks, rubbing the reddening skin of her arm. “What’d you do that for?”
“Hot white boy alert.” Hendrix subtly tips her head toward some spot behind me. “Heading right for us.”
I start turning my head.
“Don’t look! Damn.” Hendrix taps my thigh. “You’ll see him when he gets here because it’s obvious he’s headed for us.”
“Ohhhhh.” Soledad grins and leans in, closing our little circle to whisper, “He’s not headed for us. He’s headed for Yasmen.”
At that, I can’t help but turn to see who is coming. Mark Lancaster, one of Skyland’s most successful developers and a newly declared congressional candidate, is crossing the yard with confident steps.
“You know I’m volunteering with his campaign,” Soledad says, her eyes already twinkling with something wicked. “He always manages to bring our conversations around to Yasmen somehow. Speaking of the sewers, how’s Yasmen doing?”
Hendrix cracks up, but sobers quickly. “Here he comes.”
“Evening, ladies,” Mark says when he reaches us. He nods to Josiah and Kassim. “And gentlemen. Ready for the movie?”
“We are,” Hendrix answers. “Why don’t you join us?”
Apparently the self-appointed host, she pats the empty spot on the blanket beside me.
Oh, not obvious at all.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Mark eases his tall, fit frame down beside me. He’s that Ken-doll kind of handsome. Sort of smooth and plastic with movable parts. Blue eyes and blond hair. Even, white smile, a little too practiced politician for my taste, but nice enough. There is nothing wrong with Mark, the future congressman, but the faint stirrings of my hibernating libido don’t make themselves known around him. I glance surreptitiously at Josiah, who leans back on his palms, muscle-roped arms stretched behind him, the mint-green Lacoste polo shirt straining across his broad chest, contrasting with skin like burnished mahogany. Kassim says something that draws a lazy smile from him, and it flashes across his face. I don’t want to examine how “stirring” I still find my ex-husband.