Page 28 of Phishing for Love
“I know.”
“Did you pay money for them?”
I sigh heavily. “Yes.”
“Sucker.”
“Yep.”
“There’s a woman at work I can’t stand,” Kate says, dropping the earrings into her pocket. “I’ll gift them to her.”
Grandma wanders into the kitchen, patting her hair, which she’s styled especially for this family get-together. Knowing how comically vain Grandma is about her hair, Kate and I are bothextravagant in our compliments. By the time we’re done, she’s beaming and insisting on wine to celebrate.
“What are we celebrating?” Mom asks as she pours us each a glass of red.
“My two lovely granddaughters,” she says. “I see right through their shameless flattery, but I love them anyway.”
Lisset skips into the kitchen then, cheeks flushed from the sun. She sees us all drinking and begs for her own glass. Kate’s about to launch into her wine-is-only-for-adults lecture, but Grandma waves her off, procures a plastic wine glass and pours in a hefty splash of red grape juice.
Proffering the glass to Lisset, Grandma attempts a curtsey. I hold my breath, ready to catch her if she catapults forward, but Grandma, holding onto the edge of the table with one veined hand, knees creaking loudly, manages to slowly straighten.
Mom, her face strained, takes a fortifying swallow of wine.
“Won’t you join us, my dear?” Grandma asks Lisset.
“Why thank you, GG, I believe I will.” With a regal nod, Lisset joins us around the kitchen table.
I smile indulgently at my niece, who adores watching British period dramas with her great grandmother, who she’s nicknamed GG. Lisset’s a carbon copy of Kate with her brown hair and dark eyes. Not much of her father there, thank goodness. Being around Lisset is like living in a world of unicorns and rainbows and bubbles. She’s joy and sunshine, and all I can think is,Please, my beautiful, broken sister, don’t break the carefree spirit of your daughter.
Mom’s next comment comes completely out of left field. “Why didn’t you tell me Aaron is not only new to Amell Greetings, but also new to town?”
I swallow a groan. Why didn’t I tell her? Because her overdeveloped hospitality instincts would have kicked in. Throughout my school years, anytime my mom found out therewas a new kid in my class, she invited them over to the house. Yes, I might have made a few more friends, but it was also mortifying and exhausting.
“Who’s Aaron?” Kate asks.
“A security consultant Calvin’s hired.” I turn to my mom. “Remember, he’s only here for six months.”
Mom’s eyebrows tip up. “Does he know anyone in Brown Oaks?”
“I don’t know,” I confess reluctantly.
And I don’t particularly care.
It’s not something I dare say aloud, though.
“Where’s he staying?” Grandma asks.
“Mevia says he’s rented a cabin on the outskirts of town.”
Mom taps a finger on the table. “What’s he doing for food?”
I sip my wine. “Hopefully, the cabin comes with a rifle and fishing equipment so he can figure it out for himself.”
Mom squints at me. “Are you being sassy with me, Tess Miller?”
Kate smirks as I quickly swallow my wine. “Um, I don’t know what came over me.”
“Too much time on TikTok,” declares Grandma. I don’t think she has any idea what TikTok even is, but she’s always eager to apportion blame to it. To be fair, though, Google is also high on her hit list.
