Page 38 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls
“Will I see you again?”
Celene’s phone lit up, a bright fracture, reminding them their fake date had come to an end. Tapping her thumb here and there, she said, “In about two weeks, I’ll be back. On Sunday.”
Absently, Skye took out her phone, too. Waiting were two text notifications. One from Thalia, the other from Luce, which she frowned at. Her grandmother had the ability, yet she rarely sent messages. The text revealed something astonishing.
A photo of the priority shipment she’d harped about was packed and sealed. She’d even printed out the proper scanning sheet. Instead of having to wake up extra early to arrange everything before work, Skye had one fewer worry. Under that photo, it read:
Luce – 8:19 pm
Took care of it
Have fun on your date
Skye swore Luce’s packaging days were over, now that she had her granddaughter around. If Skye had an actual girlfriend...
“Luce prepared the package herself,” Skye intoned, and even then, her soft voice rang so loud. “I’ll get time tonight to start on your commission. I’m energized.”
Celene granted her a half smile, more normal. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“You should...” Gracelessly, she reached to pat Celene’s car a bit too hard. “Get on the road. Drive safely.”
“Night driving’s the best. I brought a cooler for my friend’s pie and threw in some coffees, just in case.” She eyed her thin wristwatch, then held an arm out. “I can’t tell you the last time I laughed like that. Thank you.”
Celene seemed untouchable. Designed to be viewed and nothing more. Skye still tingled at the ghosts of those hands all over her thighs and knees. It gave her the confidence to step into a hug of soft cotton, curves, and a heartbeat. This woman wasn’t cold. At all.
After Celene waved goodbye and drove off, Skye dwelt behind her steering wheel. Reflecting on the night so long that it didn’t shock her to see that an hour had passed.
She needed to finish the Forever Fuchsia before Celene got her house in order.
That required time she didn’t have. Unless Luce thought she was busy. With a girlfriend.
Skin still buzzing from their hug, Skye let her thumbs do the talking, sending something more daring than she’d send onany given day. Being daring revived her, in several senses of the word. Hopefully, Celene could use a revival, too.
Skye – 9:33 pm
You can tell me if this isn’t okay, but...
Next time you’re in Yielding, let’s continue going on our so-called “dates.” I could use more of those laughs.
10
“Fake dating?” Nadine emptied cold brew equally between her and Celene’s glasses. Their second helping that morning—one before breakfast delivery and now one after dining on a third of the blackberry pie. Post-dessert coffee, a usual for when they hung out, never mind the hour.
Celene slid her sunglasses higher on her nose. “That’s right.”
New York welcomed Celene back with mellow heat and the right number of clouds. Especially ideal on Nadine Hayes’s private terrace. She fancied the location of the luxury building in Tribeca, not its location a floor above Nadine’s parents. Negligible, though, for the amenities.
Feeding her caffeine addiction with a lavish sip, Nadine bounced her crossed legs upon a cushioned lounge chair. “You’re not mad enough for me.”
“I’m conflicted, to say the least.”
“Don’t say the least. Say more.” She twirled her pointer finger midair, in a winding fashion. “Your little ice cream thing sounds cute and all, but c’mon. I thought we chose to resist all the shit that doesn’t serve us. And this, without a doubt, is extra.”
Celene would have said the same thing, had the tables been turned. Vaguely, she took note of the potted greenery lining the outdoor furniture and fountain, how the Hayes paid someone on retainer to trim them when Yielding residents mostly did those tasks themselves or hired people they knew personally. “I don’t think it’s coming from a bad place. A little self-serving.”
“Little?!” Nadine spun in her chair, pulling Celene to do the same. Her similarly arched eyebrows reached the clouds above. “This lady wants to pretend date you.Pretend. Children pretend with dollies. Not women. Babe.” With a sharp switch of her hand, she removed her shades from wildly unimpressed eyes. “I’m going to talk you up, love. ’Cause has Nature Girl seen your bank account? Has she counted your abs? Has she seen you in a bikini? A tank top? Who the fuck is she to ask you to pretend?”
Celene pushed her phone forward. “Record that. You’ll be my morning affirmations.”
