Page 171 of Tenderfoot

Shanti got squinty-eyed at the mention of Liam.

Hmm!

“Fuck me! Are you women gonna work ever?” Tex boomed.

After we all giggled (well, they laughed, I giggled), we finally got to work.

TWENTY-THREE

“I’M EVERY WOMAN”

(CHAKA KHAN)

It was late the next morning and Javi and I were having our first fight (well, the first one after we officially got together).

And it was stupid.

But he was being stubborn.

Which was more stupid!

“We’re taking this back to my place and getting you a new one when we shop for doubled-up stuff,” I said for, like, the millionth time.

I said this while I set my nutribullet in the box we were putting my stuff into for the move back to my place.

The instant I took my hands from it, Javi pulled it out and retorted inflexibly, “New one’s gonna be at your place.”

This was the fifth time this happened.

My yoga mat and all my exercise stuff was still upstairs, because Javi decreed he didn’t want me dragging it back and forth, so I was getting new for my place, something we were going to see to after we took all his and my stuff there. The same with my moisturizer, night cream (really, all my toiletries), bubble bath and salts, and sonic toothbrush.

I’d caved on all of those.

But Javi didn’t use any of those, not to mention, they were replaced regularly when I ran out.

So I was totally putting my foot down about the nutribullet.

“It doesn’t really matter. It’ll be the same thing at both places,” I pointed out.

“If it doesn’t matter, then you should have no problem leavin’ this here,” he returned.

Bah!

“I want new stuff at your place. You want new stuff too. You said it yourself. Only good stuff here,” I retorted, then added, “Especially anything you might use, like the nutribullet.”

“I want the good stuff at your place more,” he shot back.

“I make the smoothies,” I replied heatedly. “So I should be able to pick where my equipment is.”

“Babe, you pack a bunch a’ healthy shit in the plastic thing and whiz it. You want me to take my turn making ’em? They don’t look that tough. I’ll make ’em.”

I was offended.

“I’d just like to see you try to make my Apple Cinnamon Oat Extravaganza Smoothie,” I snapped.

“Not drinking that shit again if that’s what you call it,” Javi muttered.

Ugh!

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