“You’re such a dingle dangle,” Zoe grinds out under her breath. She stares straight ahead at the seat in front of her. She’s embarrassed, but she’s trying to pretend she’s not. It’s not working out any better than pretending I don’t exist.
“One day,” I say before leaning obnoxiously close to her ear to whisper, “You’re going to have to grow some lady balls and learn to swear whenever you want.”
“No thanks.”
“My mom actually suggested this resort. I mentioned I was looking for a place, and she knew of this great outfitter who had a bunch of cabins and whatnot for rent. She has quite a few friends in Colorado now, and someone knew someone who knew someone who said this is their slow month, and while they have a few other guests, it didn’t take much convincing for them to open up the rest of the cabins they don’t usually use and rearrange a few other reservations.”
“By convincing, you mean with crazy amounts of money.”
“Something like that.”
“But it’s all a tax write off anyway,” Zoe bites out sarcastically. She might not be looking at me, but at least she’s talking to me.
I wait a few minutes before I ask my next question. I make sure every single word is as loaded as I know the statement will be coming out of my mouth. “Would you like a whisky?”
“No!” Zoe tucks her hands between her knees. “No,” she hisses again, a little more quietly this time. The flush is now spreading from her neck up to her cheeks.
“I’m sorry for…”
Fast as lighting, Zoe’s hand shoots out and covers my mouth. “Oh, no,” she breathes into my ear in the most menacing tone I’ve heard from anyone in a good long while. “No way. You do not get to talk about that. Not here. Not ever.”
I nod my understanding, and as soon as she takes her hand away, I give her a shit-eating grin that probably deserves a good smack. My mom’s given me a few for that exact expression over the years. I used to grin the same grin at her when she was trying to punish me, and it used to drive her nuts. I wish she would have known I wasn’t trying to defy her. I just found her reactions hilarious, and trying hard not to smile generally seems to produce the exact opposite reaction.
“I was going to say I’m sorry for not trying to contact you before this. I did think that, well, maybe I thought the way my mom did. That since you were younger and still lived with your dad, you wouldn’t want to hear from us. Or rather, he wouldn’t, so he wouldn’t want you to either. I didn’t want to cause trouble or be a reminder of how shit went down between our parents, and then years passed, and it just felt strange and awkward. I guess I talked myself into thinking you didn’t want to hear from me then, so I never looked you up.”
“Didn’t you wonder about me?” Zoe looks like she wishes she could take it back the moment she says it. “No. Never mind. Don’t answer that. I guess we both did, and we did nothing about it. We’ll leave it at that since we can’t do anything about it, and we’re here now.”
“So, you’ll agree not to hate me?”
There’s a glint of surprised amusement in Zoe’s eyes before she rips her gaze away. “No. I won’t agree to that.”
“You didn’t give your notice.”
“I’m planning on milking a free trip first. I’ll have it on Kim’s desk as soon as I get back.”
I’m not able to tell if she’s being facetious or not, so I let it go. “Are you sure you don’t want a whisky?”
“No!” Zoe snaps. She whips back around. “What is wrong with you?” Air hisses out between her tightly ground teeth, and her eyes narrow. “I mean, other than the obvious.”
I glance around, but a quick check tells me that everyone else is engrossed in their conversations, movies, music, and whatever else they might be doing at the moment. They’re not paying any attention to us.
“Speaking of, since you refuse to let it drop, have you booked a doctor appointment for that yet?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Zoe’s eyes flick toward my crotch, and when she catches herself and looks back up at me like she didn’t just get caught doing what she was just doing, her face is scarlet.
I smirk. “Anyway, am I going to have to call my mom and cancel lunch? I have to say, if you decide against it, she’ll be so disappointed.”
Zoe juts her chin out, as stubborn as she ever was. “No. Don’t cancel. Why would you cancel? I might as well milk a free lunch out of you, as well as the free vacation. Your money might as well make one of us happy.”