Page 31 of Sugar Pie
People?My skin buzzed, but I ignored it. “Thank you.”
As I walked home, my mind zeroed in on the one person other than Romeo who might have called the authorities and had enough power to persuade. I took my phone out and dialed a number I’d avoided.
Her machine answered, but I knew she was screening the unknown number.
“Mom? It’s me.”
I heard the line click, and Francesca answered. “You’re alive. I called the cops.”
I shook my head as I climbed the stairs to my place. “That’s why I’m calling you.”
She sighed. “No authority called me back to let me know anything.”
Once again, it was all about how the world revolved around her. I unlocked the door. “Mom, you can’t call the police on adults. I’m fine.”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
I put my bags on the counter. “Because… I broke it and got a new one.”
“We’d send you a replacement right away.”
I straightened my spine. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t hers or Romeo’s to control. I was free, and no amount of cajoling was ever going to change my mind. “It’s okay, Mom. I want to run my life, especially now that I’m divorced.”
“So it’s true. I’m at a loss. I’ll help you find a new husband straight away.”
I thought I heard a door close in the bedroom. I closed my eyes. “No. I don’t want to marry a rich man and be taken care of.”
The door opened, and Warren came out with his hair wet. His white T-shirt clung perfect, and those muscles of his underneath made my knees weak, not that he could have seen me behind the counter. “I want to… do something with my life. Look, I have to go.”
“Goodbye.”
Warren opened the bags and helped me put the groceries away. “Does starting a business with me count as doing something with your life?”
I reached for his wrist, and my pulse stirred as I drew closer. “Yes. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t—”
We were nose to nose. His eyes began to close. Electricity rushed through me, but then he whispered, “Kiss me.”
My lips parted, and the air around us swirled as if we were in a dream. But then I stepped back and rubbed my forehead. “I can’t. I told you the truth last night. I’m not ready for more, and we work well together.”
He winked and seemed to take it well as he took the last of the groceries to the freezer. “Well, we’re helping each other out, but I was thinking…”
I blinked. I needed the meat he’d put away for dinner. “What do you want now?”
He took my hands. “Let’s have fun. Forget cooking. We’ll go out.”
Every second of every day since we’d moved in together had been great. I followed him toward the door. “Fun… I don’t think I’ve had fun with a guy since college, but no horseback riding.”
“No problem.”
I stopped, grabbed my shoes, and sidled up beside him.
We drove to a small bar that had country music blaring outside. As we headed to the door, I considered that I hadn’t been in a bar in years. Warren held the door, and we headed in.
The hostess took us to a table, and we ordered a beer. I licked my lips—I hardly remembered what a stout tasted like, but I did remember that it had been my preference in college.
We sat and listened to music until our beers arrived. Once we were alone, he asked, “Where did you go to school?”
I sipped my beer to get the taste in my mouth and let out a small moan. It was better than I remembered. I put the glass down and said, “Wesleyan.”
