Page 63 of Charlie
“Salad?” I wrinkled my nose. “No way; I’d live off cake.”
“You can’t live off cake. There’s no nutritional value in cake.”
“Who said we had to think of health? I was talking about taste only.”
“Salad is still the better option.”
“Salad is boring.”
“Then what about soup? There’s a lot of different kinds to pick from.”
I shook my head. “Most people I ask this question always say pizza.”
“Why?”
“Because pizza is a favorite for many and you can make it into a dessert too.”
“Dessert? How do you make pizza into a dessert?”
I lowered my brow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a cinnamon and sugar pizza or a Nutella pizza.”
Charles looked disgusted. “Is that a thing?”
“Yes! It’s a big thing because it’s delicious.”
“Nah, I’d still pick soup or salad.”
“Slugbug.” I slapped his arm when a yellow Volkswagen Beetle passed us.
“Why are you hitting me and what the hell is a slugbug?”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You’ve never played slugbug?”
“No.”
“My sister and I did it all the time. Whenever you see a Beetle you get to punch the other and if it’s a convertible you get two punches. All kids play that game and it’s one of the reasons that I drive a Beetle myself. I love that I get to carry on the tradition.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t have any siblings and I assure you my grandfather never shouted ‘slugbug.’”
I laughed. “Then it’s a good thing you have me now. You’ll get used to it. Just you wait and see.”
When we parked the car and walked up to the house, Charles was chatting happily. “We’re going to have a challenge with closet space.”
My heart was drumming fast in my chest as we entered the house with my suitcases. Eileen, who had insider knowledge from her years in the group, had told me to weave a close emotional bond with Charles and not scream about the place being a cult. This would be my chance to go undercover and gather intel that could help take down Conor O’Brien.
We hadn’t made it from the entryway and up the stairs before Conor appeared with three of the children. Looking at Charles with my large suitcase, he raised a brow. “What’s going on?”
Charles was a few steps above me and turned. “Liv is staying with me.”
“Is she?” Conor held a calm smile on his face, but I thought I saw a micro-expression of annoyance. “I don’t recall giving my approval, and no one moves into my house without my permission.”
“Fair enough. Can my girlfriend stay in my room while she’s in Ireland?”
Conor looked thoughtful but then he gave a firm “No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m happy to explain if you allow me a moment of your time.” He waved a hand for Charles to follow him, which made me nervous, but Charles stood his ground and didn’t leave my side.
