Mara laughed. “No offense Soph, but your love of and skill at pool, is one of the coolest things about you.” Her smile was pretty in an understated way that made her golden brown eyes sparkle.
“That’s because you grew up in Tulip where the Worthington name means so much. Here in Pilgrim, I’m just Sophie.” I was grateful that Mara didn’t treat me like I was one of the Worthingtons because that would annoy me to no end.
“It’s not just the last name. It’s also the sweaters and that sweet look that I know is a lie.”
I frowned and racked the balls. “Hey! I am sweet.”
Eva snorted and I glared at her, which only made her laugh loud enough to draw stares. “You are super sweet.”
“Sure, you’re sweet,” Mara said as she walked around the table. “But you are nowhere near as sweet as your outfits say you are. I dig it.” She bent over the table, lined up her shot and with one impressive crack, sank three striped balls.
“Thanks, but you try finding professional clothes for this body that doesn’t send the wrong message. I tried going the high-end fashionista route, but all the wrong men hit on me, and even the right ones were inappropriate.” It had been so frustrating, that I’d gotten rid of everything and opted for pastel colors and soft sweaters because it scared every man into thinking I wanted a picket fence and two point five kids. “I gave them all to Eva.”
“Damn right she did. I had to take everything in because of the height difference. But I’m also not above breaking a few fingers when guys step out of line.” The wicked delight on her face brought a smile to mine.
“Wait, aren’t you in the market for a husband and kids, the whole shebang?” Mara’s frown was comical, almost literally like a cartoon character with the way her eyes bugged out. “I feel like I’ve been lied to. Why?” She sank another striped ball and then scratched, earning the table a darkly intense frown.
“It’s the clothes,” I assured her. “Works like a charm. Every single time.”
Mara looked down at her own jeans and t-shirt, an outfit so expected that it might as well be a uniform. “Maybe I ought to have you dress me.”
“I’m up for the challenge whenever you are.” I’d love to dress Mara and show off the beautiful body she had. For some reason, she seemed determined to hide it.
“Hey girls, sorry I’m late but…grrr, men suck!” Tara showed up like a whirlwind, a large pitcher of what looked to be mango margaritas in one hand, a phone and a glass in her other, all of which she placed with a dramatic thunk on the tall table against the wall. “So hard!”
Eva flashed a worried look over at me and I shrugged, not sure what had the police officer so riled up. But Tara was a friend, and she looked distraught so I decided to be the brave one tonight. “Of course they do, but is there any particular man who pissed you off today?”
“My ex, Bernard. You remember the jerk who gave me twenty-four hours notice that he was moving to Wisconsin? Six months ago!” We all nodded, hardly able to forget the callous and unexpected break up. “Well he thought it’d be a swell idea to let me know he’s getting married.” She growled the words angrily, but it was at odds with the sadness swimming in her green eyes. She took a long sip and closed her eyes. My heart went out to her.
“So soon?” Eva asked, earning another growl just for her.
“Right? I mean, it’s not like I was holding out hope he’d come back to me or anything, but dammit, he shocked me.” Tara’s shoulders fell as she leaned against one of the high stools, gaze directed right at the sticky floor. “I convinced myself I was okay being single because it meant I could focus on my career, but I’m not even a detective yet. I’m not dating. I’m not even getting regular orgasms. He’s getting married, and I have nothing. Less than nothing, in fact.”
Eva took a few steps closer to Tara and put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry Tara, truly. And not to be that girl, but I am in a position to help you with at least one of your problems.”
Mara laughed out right before she finished off the pool table, sinking the black ball in an impressive zig zag shot. “That’s what I call marketing,” she snorted.
Tara’s green eyes flashed an amused glare at Eva and then laughed. She laughed hard until tears streamed from her eyes, thankfully they were tears of laughter, not the kind that would send us all running to the ladies’ room. “Given that entrance, I can’t really give you crap about it, now can I?”