Tequila, Tequila

I eyed Mom’s bottle of Jack.

Me: You should probably bring Mom some Jack.

Jade: Is it your relatives or the lack of sex she’s struggling with?

Me: I’m not talking about this.

“Mallory, are you listening to me?” Mom snapped her fingers in front of my face.

I looked up from my phone. “No. I tuned out around the dog thing.”

She sighed, pouring herself another glass.

“Shouldn’t you slow down? Don’t you need to cook?”

Mom glared at me. “You can cook.”

“That’s debatable,” I said slowly. “I can cook, but I’m not particularly good at it.”

“Even you can make chicken pasta, Mal.”

“Again, I can, but that doesn’t mean it’ll taste good.”

“What did I do in a past life to get stuck with this mess of a family?” She got up, sighing, and shoved her chair toward the fridge. Stepping up onto it, she leaned over it and stretched her arm, reaching into the gray box that housed the potatoes.

“Mom,” I scolded her, noticing the familiar box in her hand. “You’re not smoking again!”

She held one finger to her lips and tapped a cigarette out of the box. I pressed my fingers to the center of my forehead as the strike of a match filled the air.

The acrid scent of cigarette smoke filled the kitchen as my mother moved toward the sink. She leaned forward and pushed the window open, then bent over the sink and blew smoke out of the window.

“Why don’t you just open the door and smoke outside? It’s bad enough having the choo choo train in the living room without you as well.” I waved my hand in front of my face.

She glared at me and opened the back door, stepping out into the yard instead. “I swear this is my house.”

“And I’m paying you rent,” I reminded her.

“You’re giving me a hundred bucks a month, Mallory.”

“Do you want me to be able to move back out or not?”

She pursed her lips together before taking a long drag on the cigarette and turning away from me. I’d offered to pay more, even before I’d gotten my new job, but she’d refused.

She couldn’t play that card.

At that moment, there were three loud knocks, and the front door swung open. From where I was sitting, I could see the hall, and I grinned at the sight of my best friend.

Jade was tall, loud, and didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of her. Right now, her violet hair was pulled into a high ponytail that swung with every step she took, and her bright-pink lips were stretched into a smile as she waved two bottles of wine.

“I brought presents!” she sang, kicking the door shut.

“Is that Jade?” Mom asked, craning her neck to see.

“Who else walks into this house with wine and announces herself with a song?” I asked dryly.

Jade grinned, sashaying her way into the kitchen. She stopped dead when she saw my mom smoking. “Helen! Is that a cigarette?”

“No,” Mom said, moving her arm so it was out of sight.

Sure. She had a problem with Jade seeing her smoke, but not me.

I shook my head as Jade put both bottles on the table and grabbed three glasses of wine as if she lived here. Without being asked, she poured three full glasses—not the shit they poured in restaurants—and handed them out to us.

“Now,” she said, sitting down. “Tell me about your new boss.”

I groaned, cradling the glass with my hands. “Remember the other day? When I had my interview?”

“Yeah. You were almost run over by a really hot guy because you were in La La Land.” She tapped her nails that were as purple as her hair against the table. “What about it?”

I stared at her.

She darted her brown eyes to look at Mom. “What?”

“He’s my new boss,” I muttered, immediately swigging from my glass.

Silence, and then—

Mom burst into laughter, leaning against the doorframe to steady herself. “The guy who almost ran you over is your new boss? How does that happen?”

“The universe hates me? I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

“Did you mention it?” Jade asked, grinning. “Because that’s funny.”

I shook my head so emphatically I swear I heard my brain rattling. “No. I most definitely did not tell him. He didn’t mention it either, so I think he doesn’t recognize me.”

“How can he not recognize you? He could have killed you.”

“I don’t know. I don’t have bright purple hair?” I shrugged. “Trust me—when you’re as hot as he is, a regular-looking brunette like me is nothing special.”

Jade rolled her eyes as Mom shut the back door. “Regular looking? What are you, Susie from the Walmart counter?”

“She may as well be if she’s got a crush on her boss,” Mom mused. “Nothing good ever comes from fantasizing about your boss.”

I balked. “Who said I was fantasizing about my boss?” My voice was squeaky. “I’ve only spoken to him twice. Three times max. I’m not fantasizing about him!”