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“Sure, you too.” Her smile doesn’t carry any warmth. “You know, there’s a talent show coming up at the end of summer. The town hosts one every year along with that ridiculous pepper-eating contest. We only moved here a couple of years ago, and I’ll never get over it. Alex isn’t thinking of competing, is she? In the talent show?” There’s a sharpness to her tone now. “Because Leah and her girl group are going to do a little number, and they’re a shoo-in to win.”
Of course, Leah has a girl group. I glance down at Alex. “We’ll see,” I say. “We’ll have to leave you with bated breath. Have a good day, Zara.”
Zara herds her daughter away. Leah gives me a strange look before leaving.
“You okay?” I ask Alex.
“Yeah.”
I don’t buy it. “Is Leah the reason you were in the diner the other day?”
Alex presses her lips together.
“Does she say stuff like that a lot?”
Alex fiddles with the shirt I handed her.
“Leah’s a bully,” I say.
“But she’s right.”
“Right? No, she’s not right. Your parents and your past don’t make you who you are. That’s a choice you make every day. By yourself. And Alex, you choose to be a rock star every morning. That’s all that matters.”
Alex’s cheeks go pink, and she gives me a grin that shows off her dimples.
“When I was your age, I had a friend who saved me from a bully just like Leah.” I don’t mention that it was Olivia. “And she was the one who taught me that I could stand up for myself.”
“That’s nice of her.”
“It was,” I say.
“Are you still friends? Is it Marci?”
“Not Marci, no,” I say. “And no, we’re not friends. We kind of drifted apart.” The truth is more painful. “So, the talent show?” I wave down the shop assistant. “You want to do it?”
“Kind of. But I don’t know yet.”
“It would be a shame if Heatstroke didn’t get to see how talented you are,” I say, and leave it at that.
If I was considering giving up this job before, because of how uncomfortable it is to live with Cash, there’s no chance I’m doing it now.
Twelve
CASH
Ganny’s potluckdinners are legendary in the Taylor family, heck, in Heatstroke too. Getting an invitation to one of our family dinners is akin to winning the social lottery in town, mostly because Ganny’s so well-connected. She’s the type of person who knows everyone’s names and business, gives to charity, and loves meddling in people’s affairs because it’s for their own good.
But there’s another element to it. Heatstroke was founded by two families. The Taylors and the Walshes, and our family has lasted the longest out here.
Being at Ganny’s house has always made me feel at home in my own skin.
But tonight is different.
Tonight, June is wearing a white cotton dress that’s modest, but might as well be threadbare. I trace the lines of her body through the fabric, trailing my gaze upward to her face.
She’s in the middle of a conversation with my sister, Hannah, and her annoying best friend, Belle Simms, who’s been the Thelma to Hannah’s Louise since as far back as I can remember. They call themselves partners in crime, for fuck’s sake.
June laughs, the sound tinkling through the air, and her green eyes find mine.
