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Roman didn’t need reminding. His wet jeans had rubbed a rash across his thighs on the walk back to the house.
He and Ashley had snuck back inside while it was still dark out. Afraid the noise of the shower would wake Prachi and Arvind, they’d opted to clean up at the sink in the downstairs bathroom, splashing water on their heads, necks, and arms and drying off with a hand towel.
He’d tried to apologize, but Ashley had waved him off and asked, Are you going to tell her?
In the morning.
Good luck with that.
Carmen picked up on the fourth ring. “Who is this?”
“It’s Roman.”
“What happened to your phone?”
“It got wet.”
“That doesn’t sound like you. Have you gotten that woman under control yet?”
“No.”
A door opened upstairs, and Ashley descended a few steps and leaned over the banister. When she saw him on the phone, she made an eep shape with her mouth, covered it with her hand, and tiptoed the rest of the way down the steps.
“… even tell me we can’t do the demo Monday,” Carmen was saying. “The site’s ready. You’ve still got seventy-two hours, so I don’t want to hear any whining. Get it done.”
Ashley disappeared into the kitchen.
“That’s not why I called.”
“So why did you call?”
“I … got involved with her last night.”
A cabinet door closed. Then another. Ashley was looking for something.
“Her, meaning the palm tree girl?”
Carmen sounded different—her voice a bit higher than usual, with not-quite-surpressed emotion. Surprise? Hurt?
“Her, meaning Ashley. Yes.”
She cleared her throat. When she spoke again, she sounded like she always did. Assertive, demanding. Easy to interpret. “You kissed her, slept with her, what? Spell it out.”
The deafening whine coming from the coffee grinder in the kitchen drowned out all thought for a moment. Prachi appeared on the stairs. “Good morning, Roman.”
“Good morning.”
“Roman?” Carmen said. “I’m on tenterhooks here.”
But the irony in her tone announced that tenterhooks were for other people. Weak people. She disdained the very idea of nervous anticipation, while Roman felt like a pinned specimen, stared at, weak-stomached, and spiky.
He inhaled deeply, waiting for Prachi to start talking with Ashley in the kitchen before he spoke. “Third base. I guess.”
“Don’t guess. There’s no guesswork involved. First base is kissing. Second base is—”
“Third base.”
She exhaled a sigh. “Okay.”
