tone. “Something from the bar?” she repeated through gritted teeth.
“Martini, extra dirty,” Tracey chirped.
“And you?” Hannah asked Carlotta.
She hesitated, having seen Hannah lick her finger and use it to stir a drink she’d once served to Tracey, out of spite. “Do you have bottled beer?”
Carlotta could tell her worth had risen a notch with Hannah. “Coming right up.”
When Hannah walked away, Tracey said, “You’ve never ordered beer before.”
Carlotta shrugged. “It just sounded good today.”
Tracey angled her head. “You’re acting so strange… what are you taking?”
Did she normally take something? “Nothing.”
“If you say so,” her friend responded in a sing-songy voice. “Let’s see those photos.”
Carlotta pulled the small photo album from her bag and opened it, a little nervous about re-examining the photos for some indication of a relationship between Peter and Angela. Tracey pounced on them right away. “I remember thinking Angela and Peter were pretty chummy at this party. Look at this one… everyone is looking at the camera except the two of them.”
Peter and Angela were looking at each other.
“Same thing in this one,” Tracey said a couple of pages later. “And this one.”
Carlotta’s stomach churned with anxiety. “But these pictures don’t really prove anything.”
“Only what you suspected—that this flirtation started in college. Add to that Peter’s cagey behavior lately, the suspicious phone calls, and the rumors.”
“Rumors?”
“You know—that Angela’s been telling her friends Peter isn’t happy.”
Carlotta bit her lip. “Does he seem unhappy to you?”
Tracey scoffed. “He seems as happy as any husband. They all think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, when they should be watering their own damn grass.” She glanced around. “Where’s that martini?”
Carlotta eyed Tracey. The vehemence in her tone sounded like the voice of experience. “What’s Freddy up to?” she asked delicately of Tracey’s physician husband.
A vein popped out in Tracey’s temple. “A two thousand dollar a week habit at the strip club.”
Before Carlotta could react, Hannah reappeared with their drinks.
“Oh, thank God,” Tracey said, taking the drink from Hannah’s hand before she could set it on the table. “You might as well bring me another.”
Hannah gave her a tight smile, then set a bottle of beer in front of Carlotta, along with a glass. “You didn’t say, so I brought a local brew that’s pretty tasty.”
“Thank you.” Carlotta tried to telegraph to her friend not only were they acquainted, but they’d had so many fun adventures together, from party crashing to body moving and even chasing down a few bad guys.
Hannah gave her a wary look. “Obviously, we’ve met before, but I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“Carlotta Wren.” When Tracey bumped her, she added, “Ashford.”
Carlotta could see the wheels turning in Hannah’s head, could feel the connection and knew Hannah could feel it too. She felt guilty for putting her on the spot.
“We’re ready to order,” Tracey said in a tone meant to remind Hannah she was there to serve them. Carlotta averted her gaze and took a drink of the good beer straight from the bottle.
“Sure thing,” Hannah said. “What would you like?”
Tracey ordered a salad. Carlotta was famished, so she opted for the meatiest thing on the menu—a turkey burger.
“A beer and a burger?” Tracey asked when Hannah left. “If you weren’t drinking, I’d ask if you were pregnant.”
Carlotta nearly choked on her beer. Valerie had asked the same question. “No, I’m not pregnant.”
“I don’t blame you for putting the baby plans on hold until you figure out what’s going on between Peter and Angela.”
Baby plans? She lifted the bottle for another drink, but took only a sip, her hand snaking to her abdomen. What if she was pregnant in this
“Martini, extra dirty,” Tracey chirped.
“And you?” Hannah asked Carlotta.
She hesitated, having seen Hannah lick her finger and use it to stir a drink she’d once served to Tracey, out of spite. “Do you have bottled beer?”
Carlotta could tell her worth had risen a notch with Hannah. “Coming right up.”
When Hannah walked away, Tracey said, “You’ve never ordered beer before.”
Carlotta shrugged. “It just sounded good today.”
Tracey angled her head. “You’re acting so strange… what are you taking?”
Did she normally take something? “Nothing.”
“If you say so,” her friend responded in a sing-songy voice. “Let’s see those photos.”
Carlotta pulled the small photo album from her bag and opened it, a little nervous about re-examining the photos for some indication of a relationship between Peter and Angela. Tracey pounced on them right away. “I remember thinking Angela and Peter were pretty chummy at this party. Look at this one… everyone is looking at the camera except the two of them.”
Peter and Angela were looking at each other.
“Same thing in this one,” Tracey said a couple of pages later. “And this one.”
Carlotta’s stomach churned with anxiety. “But these pictures don’t really prove anything.”
“Only what you suspected—that this flirtation started in college. Add to that Peter’s cagey behavior lately, the suspicious phone calls, and the rumors.”
“Rumors?”
“You know—that Angela’s been telling her friends Peter isn’t happy.”
Carlotta bit her lip. “Does he seem unhappy to you?”
Tracey scoffed. “He seems as happy as any husband. They all think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, when they should be watering their own damn grass.” She glanced around. “Where’s that martini?”
Carlotta eyed Tracey. The vehemence in her tone sounded like the voice of experience. “What’s Freddy up to?” she asked delicately of Tracey’s physician husband.
A vein popped out in Tracey’s temple. “A two thousand dollar a week habit at the strip club.”
Before Carlotta could react, Hannah reappeared with their drinks.
“Oh, thank God,” Tracey said, taking the drink from Hannah’s hand before she could set it on the table. “You might as well bring me another.”
Hannah gave her a tight smile, then set a bottle of beer in front of Carlotta, along with a glass. “You didn’t say, so I brought a local brew that’s pretty tasty.”
“Thank you.” Carlotta tried to telegraph to her friend not only were they acquainted, but they’d had so many fun adventures together, from party crashing to body moving and even chasing down a few bad guys.
Hannah gave her a wary look. “Obviously, we’ve met before, but I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“Carlotta Wren.” When Tracey bumped her, she added, “Ashford.”
Carlotta could see the wheels turning in Hannah’s head, could feel the connection and knew Hannah could feel it too. She felt guilty for putting her on the spot.
“We’re ready to order,” Tracey said in a tone meant to remind Hannah she was there to serve them. Carlotta averted her gaze and took a drink of the good beer straight from the bottle.
“Sure thing,” Hannah said. “What would you like?”
Tracey ordered a salad. Carlotta was famished, so she opted for the meatiest thing on the menu—a turkey burger.
“A beer and a burger?” Tracey asked when Hannah left. “If you weren’t drinking, I’d ask if you were pregnant.”
Carlotta nearly choked on her beer. Valerie had asked the same question. “No, I’m not pregnant.”
“I don’t blame you for putting the baby plans on hold until you figure out what’s going on between Peter and Angela.”
Baby plans? She lifted the bottle for another drink, but took only a sip, her hand snaking to her abdomen. What if she was pregnant in this
Similar Books
