Page 167 of The First Taste
She balks. “I think I can get my own ride tonight.”
“Seriously?!” I protest. “Get in the fucking limo, Kaia. If you insist, I can drop you off at your house.”
Kaia stares at me, her hands bunching into fists. “Fine,” she says through clenched teeth. She ducks her head and climbs in the back seat.
I get in after her, pissed off. Honor managed to ruin a perfectly good mood. And now I’m chauffeuring Kaia home instead of having her enthusiastically blow me.
“Where are we going?” I ask, bristling.
Kaia looks away, out the limo’s window. “Queens.”
The limousine pulls out and I glare at the buildings as they pass, seething.
Kaia
“She said that you are the biggest backstabber that she’s ever met,” the bleach blonde housewife says. From my computer screen, she squints at the woman she’s dishing gossip to. Because she’s had so much plastic surgery done to her face, she looks almost serene even though her voice is angry.
I am sitting in full splits on the floor of my living area, watching tv on my ancient laptop. My apartment doesn’t have any heat of its own. Instead I rely on ambient heat from the tenants below, several tiny space heaters, and a ton of blankets and socks.
Still, my apartment is chilly today. The people downstairs must have their heat turned down during the day. I wrap myself up in my prized possession, my dove gray winter coat.
It is heavy and warm and made of wool. I brought it at a thrift store for pennies on the dollar and I unabashedly love it.
As the women on my screen escalate tensions, I lower my upper body onto the floor. My kitty Exupéry swishes his tail, disapproving of my focusing on anything that isn’t him.
I raise myself onto my elbows with a sigh and pet him. “I know. You don’t like Kelly either, huh? Who could?”
The cat meows are rubs against my hand. I feel sort of bad for Exupéry because I am almost never home. But there is a kitty door downstairs that Exupéry seems to make full use of whenever I’m not around.
“You probably have like eight other families,” I say, scratching her chin. “I get it. I’m just not around very much, am I? I wouldn’t even be here right now, except that Basil is sick. So I get a full day off.”
She cocks her head and looks at me, giving me one last rub before strutting off. I sigh and think about food; I can’t remember the last time that I went grocery shopping.
I sit up and pull my laptop in, pursing my lips. Maybe I need to go shopping at like… a farmer’s market. That sounds healthy… and way cheaper and closer than some place like Whole Foods.
I type in farmer’s market in my search bar and a million results pop up. I scroll through the results, not seeing exactly what I’m looking for.
There is a sudden knock at my door, a loud enough banging that I tense and shut my laptop. This is definitely out of the ordinary because no one knows where I live.
Well, except Calum.
Why would he not call me first, though?
I scramble to stand, brushing off my jeans and lilac midriff tee. The knocking comes again, sounding even more aggressive this time.
“Coming!” I call, trotting to the stairs and thundering down them. The banging persists even as I wrench open the door.
“Okay, okay?—“
I stop mid sentence, blinking.
My father stands there in his slacks and a dark fleece jacket, looking angry. A few steps down, Hazel stands with her hands in the pockets of her stylish black silk jumpsuit.
“Oh. Hi?” I say, squinting at both of them.
My dad smiles, showing his teeth. “Your sister and I were just in the city, meeting with some people for her fashion label. We thought we should just stop by.”
I narrow my eyes at them both. It’s the first time I’ve heard about my sister having a fashion label, but I let that pass.
