Expressionate (Expressions Series Book 1) by Lucy Smoke

Author:Lucy Smoke [Smoke, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-15T05:00:00+00:00

13

Love

I feel foolish – like I'm trying too hard to erase the actions of my past. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I turn this way and that, trying to decipher any bad angle, any flaw that Anne could see. I don't know how I let Trisha rope me into the lunch meeting. I knew it had been vain to hope that Tax's party would coincide on the same day that Anne would be in town. Even if the party wasn't until later, I could claim – at least to Trisha – that I would be preparing for it or something. In reality, I could come up with a slew of reasons and excuses not to meet with Anne and Trisha today, but I haven’t. It’s better to get this over with sooner rather than later. Anne will eventually get what she wants anyway, she always does.

I sigh and finally drop the skirt of my dress that I had been inspecting for minor errs during the last several minutes. I was really just stalling. It’s time to go.

Grabbing my phone, purse, and keys, I head for the front door just as Beverly is stumbling out of her bedroom. She moves by me slowly, not even acknowledging my presence. She stinks of beer and something else that I can't quite muster up the courage to try and decipher. How she manages to pay her bills when she drinks and parties like she’ll die if she stops, I'll never know. I'm not going to ask any questions as long as the bill payments aren't affected by her lifestyle, though.

The door to Tax's apartment remains closed as I walk by. Not that I had expected it to open and for him to appear like magic, but it might have been...nice to see him before I have lunch with the Devil.

When I reach the steakhouse that Trisha had given me the address to, I’m more than a little nervous. My palms are damp with sweat and the fabric of my dress clings to my skin. I hurriedly reach into my glove compartment and take out a travel deodorant stick. Anything might set Anne off. I don't know what could do it – what will do it. Because something inevitably will.

The host takes my name and leads me back towards a series of small four-person tables with white tablecloths, and a single, colorless, artificial flower as their centerpieces. Only two women are anywhere in the vicinity and they're both sitting at the very table we're heading for. Despite my earlier efforts, my hands begin to sweat again as I draw closer. Trish sees me and stands. Anne remains seated, her back ramrod straight, her face impassive – not revealing one single ounce of emotion.

I quietly thank the host for seeing me to the table and I take a seat across from Anne – on Trisha's other side – and quickly lift the menu to block my face. I take several moments to myself even

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