Hourglass (Hourglass 1)

“It is. Dru threatened to put me under house arrest if I tried to move out. She said she knows somebody at the police department who can get her one of those ankle bracelets.”

Lily’s voice turned wistful as she leaned back in her chair. She’d never get stuck. “Family is important.”

The two of us shared the no-parent thing. Her parents were alive, but her father’s involvement with the government hadn’t allowed him or her mother to escape Cuba with Lily and her grandmother. Except for some extremely distant cousins in South Florida, she had fewer family members than I did.

“Any news from your parents?” I asked.

“No. Not since last Christmas.” Her eyes filled with sorrow I recognized. She changed the subject quickly, the way she always did whenever her family came up. “You never gave me details about the restaurant opening. Spill it—any developments on the social front?”

“Nope.”

She gave me a look that clearly indicated she didn’t believe me. “That was an awfully quick answer.”

“When did y’all start selling your own brand?” I hedged, squinting up at the sign announcing the price for freshly roasted coffee beans.

“Last spring. Dish. Now.” She perched on the edge of her seat, eager for the details. “You did meet someone.”

“It’s true.” Lily knew me too well. She wouldn’t stop until she got it out of me. “But there’s no point talking about it. He’s off-limits.”

“Why?” She pulled her head back in dismay. “Don’t tell me there’s a girlfriend?”

“It’s one of Thomas’s rules—the guy sort of works for us. Plus he’s older than me, but only by a couple of years. Thomas thinks a high school diploma puts the guy in the speed-pass line for the nursing home. The thing is, every time we’re together there’s all this crazy …” Unable to come up with a solid description, I made wordless circles with my hands. I guess I could’ve told her we almost made the circuits blow at the Phone Company, but figured I should probably keep that to myself. “I feel this … pull toward him.”

And it scares the bejeezus out of me.

“Em, that’s a big deal for you,” Lily said softly. She knew how hard it was for me to relate to people sometimes. “If there’s really a connection there, don’t you think Thomas would understand, make an exception?”

“I don’t know if it’s mutual. Besides, I think Michael agrees with Thomas. He’s the one who told me about the no-mixing business-with-pleasure rule.”

“Michael,” Lily said in a sultry voice before she giggled. “Nice name. You could always go all Romeo and Juliet if you had to. Keep your love a secret.”

“Yeah, because that worked out so well. There’s no love there, Lily.” And for me there probably never would be. No matter how much Dru protested, I didn’t think I had anything to offer.

“Abi’s back. Let’s go talk to her. I bet you won’t even have to fill out an app.”

“I don’t see her.” I craned my neck to look toward the kitchen door. She walked in two seconds later. I looked back at Lily. “Okay.”

She laughed uncomfortably and pushed herself out of her chair, but stopped in her tracks when I called out to her.

“Lily?” She turned back to face me. I gestured to the chair. “Help?”

Chapter 13

Thomas wanted to watch The Godfather. Again. I refused to surrender.

“But The Philadelphia Story is my favorite.” When he started to protest, I switched tactics. “Your wife is with child; you’re supposed to be catering to her every need.”

“She’s right, Thomas.” Dru nodded wisely. “And violence isn’t good for the baby.”

“The baby hasn’t even grown fingernails yet—how is he going to know we’re watching a mafia movie?”

“She is going to be sensitive just like her mother.” Dru looked up at him with wide eyes. “Surely you don’t want to take the risk?”

As the music that accompanied the title credits to The Philadelphia Story started, the doorbell rang. On my way back from the kitchen, snack bowl in hand, I called, “I’ve got it,” into the living room, and shuffled to answer the front door. Probably the pizza.

I opened the door to Michael, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, a look of misery on his face.

“Hey.” I hadn’t heard a peep from him in two days, and I felt supremely awkward. I pulled my robe closed over my purple striped sleep pants and tank top, putting the bowl of popcorn between us. “Did you need something?”