Tequila, Tequila

My jaw dropped. “What? Don’t tell me that you, Cordelia Reid, are a closet klutz.”

“Is that so surprising?” She raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“Yes!” I blurted out. “I mean, no. I mean, oh shit.”

She laughed, putting her box on the desk. “I know. I’m put together. I’m uptight. I’m the epitome of the perfect hostess, no?”

“I wouldn’t say—”

“I would. Say it. It’s fine. It’s an image I’ve cultivated.” She opened her box and picked up a nacho coated in salsa. “Did you ever think you’d see me eating nachos?”

“I never thought I’d be eating anything but my words with you if I’m honest.”

Another pearly laugh escaped her. “I like you, Mallory. I think you’re a breath of fresh air.”

Well, this was going better than I’d expected. Even after she’d pulled out the nachos.

“Oh. Well, thank you. Your son thinks I’m a hurricane, so at least you’re complimenting me.”

She covered her mouth as she’d just taken a bite of chip. “Yes, his father told me about that. Apparently, he’d been muttering about Hurricane Mallory, and it only figured that was you. I don’t know any other Mallorys.”

“Lucky for whoever wasn’t named Mallory. It means unfortunate.”

“Then you’re aptly named, yes?”

My lips twitched at that. “I guess you could say it that way. So, Cordelia, tell me. How did you break your ankle?”

Laughing, she used a napkin to wipe sauce from her mouth and launched into the tale of trampolining gone wrong. Long story short, the safety net hadn’t been there, and she’d accidentally bounced right off, first hitting her ankle on the hard metal of the frame and jarring it before landing squarely on her left foot.

I couldn’t imagine Cordelia trampolining. Her hair was so perfectly in place, but the more stories she told me, the more I found myself liking her.

And I didn’t quite know how I felt about that.

She stayed for around an hour and a half before she left, saying she had a nail appointment.

When she’d gone, I sat in a daze.

Cameron’s mom had just brought me nachos, told me she’d broken her ankle because she’d also been clumsy, then left without mentioning our date.

I didn’t understand. I was totally confused about it, and the peas on my ankle were now completely defrosted.

I picked my phone from the nightstand and opened my text chain with Cameron.

Me: Is your mom sick?

I opened my laptop again while I waited for his reply. I’d been sure that Cordelia was about to tell me I couldn’t date Cameron. Or that she’d do what my mom did; point out all the reasons why it was an absolutely terrible idea that should burn in hell.

She hadn’t done either of those things. Why? She knew about the date. I was sure of it. Cameron had known someone at the hospital last night, which meant they probably knew his mom.

My phone buzzed as I opened my email.

Cameron: Why?

Me: She came over with nachos and told me stories about her life before she had you.

Cameron: She did… what?

Me: Yeah. She tried getting the restaurant to give her margaritas in a take-out cup but they refused.

Cameron: I don’t understand.

Me: I thought she was coming here to shout about our date.

Instead of replying by text, he called. I hit the green answer button, and he wasted no time at all diving into conversation.

“She came in here in a foul mood,” Cameron said without saying hi. “And asked me about everything. She did it in a total roundabout, fucked up way, but she asked me if I’d thought through dating you.”

“What did you say?”

“That we’d been on one date and we weren’t planning babies.”

I shuddered. “No, thank you. Well, she didn’t say anything about it to me.”

“That might be my fault,” he said hesitantly. “I told her that if she got to know you, she’d see you the way I see you.”

“Which is…”

“What?”

“How do you see me?” A total hot mess. A walking disaster.

“You’ll see.”

I could hear his smile from here. “No fair.”

“Life isn’t fair. So she didn’t go too hard on you?”

“No. She was almost like… my friend. It was weird. I’m not sure I liked it.”

He laughed. “Yeah, she has this soft side she lets out sometimes. I guess she really wanted to get to know you and let her guards down.”

“I guess she did. Does that mean she doesn’t mind us dating?”

“I don’t know. I also don’t know if we can really call it a date if it ended up in the emergency room.”

“A half-date?”

“Sounds about right. For what it’s worth, I’m taking all sports-related ideas off the table. Unless you can hike?”

“Oh, hey! There’s something I can do.” I paused and glanced at my foot. “Not right now, obviously, but hiking is about the only sport I’ve ever been able to do without breaking a bone.”

There was a slight pause from his end. “See, now you’ve said that…” he trailed off.