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The woman crosses her legs in one crisp, fluid motion, her blue Louboutins screaming against the cream rug, and judging by her legs’ smoothness, their flawlessness, I’m guessing they belong to a woman much younger than Magnolia.
Ruby.
Must be family dinner night. I read that she has a place close to here.
Cigar smoke curls from her direction, and she says through the exhale, “So, Jake.” A dramatic pause. “What made you decide to finally grace us with your presence?”
His voice reaches over from the left. Somewhere near her. “I missed y’all so much,” he deadpans.
She laughs. “I’m sure.”
Preston turns, lazily swirls dark liquid in his glass as though he’s bored, and his gaze trails up to see me in the next room.
Showtime.
I smile and make my way in.
He throws on a friendly face. “Hey there,” he says, confused, and looks to Jake and Ruby. I acknowledge her with a nod but can’t bring myself to look at Jake yet.
He hurries to my side and goes to lay a hand on my lower back but thinks better of it. “This is Scarlett,” he rushes out.
Looks like he forgot to mention I was here. Or hasn’t gotten around to it yet.
Ruby reaches out and gives my hand a weak shake, but she doesn’t bother getting up from her wingback. “Scarlett.” She puffs on the cigar again.
I play dumb. Finally look up to Jake. “Your sister?”
“Ruby,” he says flatly.
Her painted lips smile around the rolled paper, and her eyes narrow. She plucks it from her mouth. “I’m capable of speaking for myself, you know.” Though she’s smiling, I don’t think she’s kidding.
He answers her smile with a sarcastic one.
Her eyes rake over us and settle on my TOMS. “And where are you two going? Yachting?”
I look down at my outfit. I knew I should have picked something different.
Preston interrupts by reaching past Jake and collecting my hand, his leather jacket creaking with the movement. “What my rude, soulless sister is trying to say, is welcometo our home, Scarlett.” He punctuates it with an eye roll in her direction. Downs his drink. As he turns to pour another, he says, “I live amongst animals.”
She seems unphased. Used to it, even. And a tad amused.
Jake just pulls me to a sitting area at the opposite end of the room and away from her.
“Thank you, Preston,” I say as we pass, making a point to draw attention to his kindness.
He nods.
Awkward silence fills the room.
“Sorry about that,” Jake whispers, then adds louder, “She’s a real peach.”
She takes a long drag of cigar and breathes the smoke out her nose. “Oh, Jake,” she dismisses. She looks at us, the sharp angle of her bob cutting across her neck. “I’m just messing around.”
He directs his attention to Preston. “Hey, bud? Mind pouring me one?”
He tosses up a hand in acknowledgment.
Jake looks at me expectantly. Surely, I need a drink. “You?”
