But before I walk in, I stop and study everyone. Tony’s in a T-shirt and shorts, while Ivy’s in a loose dress, her strawberry-blonde hair pulled up into a topknot. He hands her the juice. Yuna’s dressed like… Well. Yuna. Some fancy designer dress, a wide-brimmed hat and double chains of platinum around her neck.
So what does that say about them…? Tony appears casual, even though he’s really not. Ivy’s…obviously pregnant. Yuna is… She looks like she’s rich and enjoys designer items.
Okay, never mind. This is pointless. And why am I trying to do what Jo does, anyway? So I can tell her the next time I see her? Is there even going to be a next time, given how our night ended?
I school my face to appear calm and in control. After all, I’m supposed to be constant. “Good morning,” I say, and walk in.
“Hey.” Tony smiles, gesturing at one of empty seats. Looking at him can be startling at times because he takes after Mom so much. Not the hair color, because he got that from Dad, but the shape of his eyes, the high, thin bridge of his nose and so much more. “I hope you don’t mind that we started without you.”
“Not at all. I got up late.” I smile back, then pour myself a huge mugful of coffee and start sipping. My head begins to feel better.
“How are you, Edgar?” Ivy asks.
“Fine. How’re my nephews doing? Or nieces?”
“Ooh, you haven’t told him yet?” Yuna is practically bouncing.
Ivy laughs. “Not yet.” She turns to me, one hand on her bump. She’s carrying twins, although her belly doesn’t seem big enough for one baby, much less two. She’s too delicate a woman. But looks can be deceiving. She survived so much, and there’s strength in her that most people never catch. “One of each.”
“Well, well, listen to that. You always were an overachiever. Congratulations,” I say, genuinely pleased for her and Tony. If anybody deserves a fairytale ending, it’s my brother and his wife. They fought so hard to be together, almost died for the happiness they share now.
But guilt soon follows. Dad is seeing Mom again. She did terrible things trying to keep Tony and Ivy apart, and even if our legal system says she didn’t do anything wrong, I still find her actions grotesque. I should tell Tony about it because he deserves to know. On the other hand, I don’t know how to bring it up without ruining the joy radiating from him and Ivy.
The best course of action is for me to take care of the matter with Dad. It’s the least I owe Tony, because I didn’t protect him like I should have when we were younger. I’m the oldest, and it was my responsibility.
“Everything okay at home?” Ivy asks, because she knows, as well as I do, that Tony won’t.
“Of course,” I lie. But from the glance Tony gives me, I can tell I didn’t fool him, even though Ivy and Yuna look relieved.
After the breakfast is over and Yuna and Ivy go off together to play some duet on the Bösendorfer Imperial concert grand piano, Tony stays behind and has another cup of coffee with me.
“Edgar…you sure everything’s okay back home?”
“Blackwood Energy’s doing fine.” Not telling him the entire truth isn’t the most honest move on my part, but it’s better. Or so I try to convince myself.
He nods slowly. “Okay. You know, if you need anything…”
“Thanks.” But even as I say it, I know I won’t ask. How can I demand anything of him? He wants nothing to do with the family business, and I wouldn’t blame him one bit if he wanted to strangle our mother. She was so cruel to him for so long, and I’m sure, to this date, she’s convinced she did nothing wrong.
And Dad will accept that because he loves her, I think with an inward jeer. He’ll use it to justify everything, and never accept that love has blinded him and compelled him to do foolish things—things no man in his right mind would do.
Finishing my coffee, I vow—again—that I’ll never be like him.
Chapter Five
Jo
The ringing of my phone wakes me up. I fumble around for it and stare blearily at the screen. One fifty-six p.m. And the caller is…
Someone from an unrecognized number.
I debate, but it might be one of my clients. “Yes? This is Josephine Martinez.”
“Man, you’re a hard woman to get a hold of.”
There’s only one voice that slimy. Aaron. I immediately hit the red button to hang up, then block the number. I’m not encouraging him by talking to him. He needs to accept we’re over, especially when we’ve been over for… My sleep-deprived brain can’t think. But it’s been months. Long enough for him to move on.
Besides, I do not want to talk to him, especially not when my body’s pleasantly sore from being with Edgar last night.
God, he was so good. I probably won’t find another man like him for a while. Maybe ever. The orgasms he gave me were mind-blowing. It was like being on some kind of drug, like crack or something. Crackgasms. That’s what they are, because even now, I want him again.
Just to ensure I don’t have any fashion 911s from my clients, I check my texts. But there’s only one from Hilary asking me if I got home okay because she didn’t see me at the party and is worried. Then she asked me what I thought about Yuna’s adult cream pies.
It wasn’t bad, but I had real adult cream, har har har. I send a short text to Hilary to let her know I’m fine and Yuna’s treat was tasty enough, then put the phone down next to my pillow. I start to drift back to sleep, then suddenly jerk awake. Oh shit! Shopping date with Kim!
I try to generate some motivation to get up, but completely fail. I’m just too damn tired. I hate to do this, but…I’ll have to cancel. Hopefully, she won’t be too unhappy about it. She has her next-door-neighbor-cum-nemesis-cum-wedding-date to keep her busy.
When she picks up the phone, I say, “Hey, I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I can go shopping today.”
“Uh…are we supposed to?”
Huh? She forgot, too? That makes me feel marginally better. “Aren’t we? It’s the thirteenth.”
“Jo. It’s the sixth.”
What the hell…? How could I get things so confused? “Really? Shit. Okay, sorry. Brain fart.”
“Are you okay? You don’t sound so good.”
I love her so much. If I say I’m not feeling well, she’ll bring me chicken noodle soup because she’s that kind of friend.
But I need sleep, not soup. “Um. I’m fine. Just tired. I’m still in bed.”
“You are? You sure you aren’t sick?”
“Just worn out.” I clear my throat. Time to lay it out. It isn’t like I can keep something like this a secret from her. Besides, I need to explain why I didn’t get to see her last night. “I had a bunch of sex.”
She laughs. “So that’s why I couldn’t find you last night at the party. Good for you! So. Who was it? Somebody from the party? Was he good?”
“Ooh yeah.” I stretch my torso. “That man’s like sex crack. I wanna start breaking into people’s houses and stealing their TVs to support my habit.”