Page 121 of Summer Heat
Nicola nodded like her head was on marionette strings. “I can’t believe you never told me!”
“And I didn’t report it.”
Nicola finished the last sips in her plastic cup. “We should have found bigger cups. These little drinks go too fast.”
“Or we’re drinking too much.”
“I don’t know. I think we’re drinking the right amount, given my day. Pink this time, please.”
Beth topped off her vodka. At least Nic’s hiccups were gone. That was a bonus.
Nicola took a sip. “Okay, my confession. I don’t want to leave my job. I love it. Yeah, you can note that part in my file, please. But Cash doesn’t see it. He doesn’t know that me. And if I fall in love with him all over again, and he hates this me, I won’t be able to take it.”
“That’s ridiculous, Nic.”
It might be, but it was her fear. She took a huge suck on her straw. Pink might be a little better. Sweeter. “He loved college me. I liked me then too, but now I’m run-around-the-world-with-a-gun me.” A quick gasp of a hiccup made her squeak. “Damn it!”
Beth laughed then snorted.
Nicola pointed. “I heard that!”
They both laughed. Another snort. Another hiccup. More laughing.
Nicola’s phone rang. Beth wagged her eyebrows. “Maybe it’s Cash.”
She focused on the numbers on the screen. “Nope. Jared.”
“He’s hot too. Let me answer.” Beth reached for the phone. “Everyone’s hot. Is that the only word we know? Hot.” She made a face, twisting her lips. “That sounds funky. Hot. Hawt. Hottt.”
“No.” Nic batted Beth away, hiccupped, and answered, serious face on. “Yes, hello?”
Beth fell on the floor, laughing. Her drink spilled. Nicola hiccupped, covering her mouth with her palm to hide her own giggle.
Jared grumbled. “Nicola?”
Beth snorted. Nicola tried, but couldn’t stop laughing. “Hold on one minute.” She put the phone in her lap, two fingers to her mouth to shush Beth, and tried again. Serious face back on. “Yes, hello?”
Was that a British accent? Beth ran toward the bathroom, shouting something about peeing on herself.
“Nicola, what the hell is going on?”
“Nothing.” Yes, her I’m-very-sober voice featured a British woman with a nasal problem. “Can I help you, Jared?”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Have you been drinking, Jared?” Oh no. Why had that come out?
“Good Christ.”
“Did you need something? I have something on the stove.” What? The stove? “And must go.” The last part came out with a definite accent. Beth came out of the bathroom just in time to hear her. She doubled over, wiping at the tears running down her cheeks.
“Titan’s having a cookout tomorrow night, which you’re invited to. But I’m changing it to a retreat. We’ve got shit to work out. Be there. Bring a bag. You’ll have a room. I’ll text you details.”
Oh, that was sobering. “What?”
“Be a good little princess, finish your cocktail, and get a good night’s sleep. We start work tomorrow.”
Nicola hung up. Beth wiped the last of her tears. “What’s Mister Hot-and-Grumpy want?”
