Page 10 of Look at Her and Die

“Yes…” she lied again, her eyes gazing down and to the side before she returned her gaze to me. “It was a missed pill or two.”

“What kind of birth control pill were you on?” I pushed.

She sighed. “The low-hormone one.”

“Plannon?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered quickly.

“I just made that up off the top of my head,” I told her. “You’re not pregnant. You’re trying to win him back. I’m sure that he’s a great guy, but no guy is worth lying about being pregnant. Women get such a bad rap as it is. Now we have women like you who are lying and cheating your way into men’s lives, and the rest of us have to work twice as hard to get in there. Trust me when I say, if he doesn’t want you, you need to respect that. Don’t demean yourself like this.”

The woman’s eyes blazed. “I’m pregnant.”

“You may wish you were pregnant, but you’re not. You’re trying to save face and win him back. Probably, you fucked up, and he called your bluff. You kept thinking he’d come crawling back, and when he didn’t, you started to get desperate. Trust me when I say, you’ll find someone that’s willing to put up with your bullshit. You’re young, beautiful, and obviously very rich. Find some unsuspecting man that’ll give you everything you want and more, but don’t come into my diner anymore unless you’re actually going to order something. And if you leave me a bad review on Yelp or Google, I’ll ruin your fuckin’ life.”

There was a snort from the table behind me.

“Fine, I’ll have a coffee.” She crossed her arms.

“We’re not serving coffee anymore. It’s noon. The last batch of coffee was dumped out once Mrs. Pearl told me she didn’t want anymore. I don’t make coffee again until tomorrow morning,” I said.

The woman harrumphed.

“You could order a grilled cheese,” my brother said as he came to the men’s table from behind me. “They’re fantastic.”

“The grease is disgusting on those.” She eyed the jalapeño guy’s behind me. “Posy, will you please talk to me outside?”

“No thanks.” He took a large bite of his sandwich.

I tried not to watch the muscles in his jaw flex as he chewed, but failed.

Fuck, but he was hot.

He had dark hair, even darker eyes, and a sculpted jaw that sent shivers down my spine.

He had a goatee, a crooked nose that spoke of multiple breaks, and jaw muscles for days.

When I’d read about square jaws in book blurbs—because I sure the fuck didn’t have time to read an actual book—I’d thought I had an idea of what I was picturing.

I was wrong.

This man—Posy—had a square cut jaw.

Wow.

“You owe me this,” the woman snapped.

That’s when my siblings came in, sans my mother.

They looked tired, and Kent looked pissed as hell.

I dismissed the woman for now, heading to my brother and sister. “What’s wrong?”

Kent gritted his jaw and said quietly, “Mom decided to go out on a date for lunch with the dentist. And left us there.”

My mouth opened and closed, and I decided it was best to count to ten.

When that didn’t work, I went to the diner telephone that still had a stretched out wire attached to both ends, and picked it up before dialing.

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