Anita Blake 22.6 - Shutdown by Laurell K. Hamilton Page B

waiter bitching.
    Micah said, “You wanted some reassurance.”
    “Yes,” she said, smiling at him and looking relieved, then her glance went back to me, “though I’m not sure I’m going to end up reassured.”
    I knew with that small eye flick that I looked too good, had dressed too well, and she had done that girl thing where you compare yourself to the ex, and she didn’t feel like she was winning. This was so not my problem; I hadn’t asked for the lunch, I’d told her what I was wearing. It wasn’t like I’d shown up in a designer outfit after telling her I was wearing jeans. It wasn’t my fault that I dressed my jeans up more than she did.
    I looked at Richard across the table, and hoped he could read my expression, because I was fighting not to get angry. Micah started rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand where he held it on my thigh. He leaned in and laid a gentle kiss on my cheek. It made me let out the breath I’d been holding and try to ease the tension in my shoulders.
    Richard hugged Ellen to him. “Ellen, honey, you can see that Anita and Micah are a couple. What more do you want to be reassured?”
    “Honestly?” she asked.
    “That would be nice,” I said.
    Micah whispered, “Easy.”
    Ellen gave me a not entirely friendly look and said, “For you not to sit there looking fabulously beautiful and making me feel like an ugly duckling to your swan.”
    “I don’t know what to say to that,” I said, and looked first at Micah and then at Richard for a clue, a hint, something.
    Richard turned that handsome face to her, and said, “You’re beautiful, Ellen, you know that.”
    She shook her head. “I’m pretty, but I’m not . . .” she waved vaguely in my direction, “. . . this.”
    I sighed and looked at Micah for some help. He spoke out loud what I was thinking, “She won’t believe you.”
    “What won’t I believe?” Ellen asked.
    “Go ahead,” he said, and moved his hand to my thigh, which was sometimes more calming for both of us than hand holding. He kept his other arm across my shoulders.
    “I’m not prettier than you are,” I said.
    She gave me a look of utter scorn. “From one woman to another, don’t bullshit me.”
    “Ellen, she’s not lying,” Richard said.
    “How can you say that?” she demanded, and moved away from his hand.
    “How honest do you want me to be?” I asked.
    “I don’t know,” Micah said.
    “Not brutal,” Richard said.
    “Honest,” she said.
    “With the right makeup and a blue that had more jewel tones you’d look every bit as good as I do.”
    “Oh, thanks, are you going to offer to take me shopping next to give me makeup lessons?” Her voice was thick with scorn.
    “God no, but the friends who gave me lessons taught me not to be afraid of color and bright red lipstick, because it looked good on me and on them. You dress like I did a couple of years ago, more subdued, but your coloring is close enough to mine that you need more color, that’s all.”
    “A different shirt and lipstick isn’t going to make me exotic like you.”
    I blinked at her. “I’m not exotic.”
    “False modesty is just irritating to the rest of us, Anita. You say you’re not exotic and not beautiful, and if you believe that than I have to be ugly in comparison.”
    “Anita has trouble seeing herself as beautiful,” Micah said.
    “No, I don’t owe her that story,” I said.
    Ellen looked at Micah, and then at me. I glared at her. I was about to be done being friendly.
    “How do we make the point without it?” Micah asked, and that was him all over, he had his eye on the goal, which was to make her feel reassured. He was more goal-oriented even than I was, but for him and for the fact that our little social group was actually working better than it ever had, I’d try. God help me, but I’d try.
    “When I first started dating Richard I thought he was too handsome to like me. He was the kind of guy that made me feel awkward in high