Sighing loudly, she says, “I don’t know what that means either!”
He feigns shock. “What? You need to read more books,” he tells her.
“You’re silly, Daddy. Nikki already bought me new books,” Cassidy tells him.
“That was nice of her, huh?” he asks, hitting the turn signal and slowing down in front of a little white house.
Cassidy gasps, looking out the window. “Are we finally here? Yay!”
I am feeling much less yay about the situation. I might as well be in high school all over again, except back then I was never invited to parties. I’m not invited to this one either, Derek is just dragging me along. This is going to be so weird, I already can’t handle it.
I grab the big pink and orange beach bag and climb out of the truck. Derek already let Cassidy out, and she runs around to my side, tapping the bag. “Can I have my Fruit Roll-Ups, please? I wanna give them to my friends.”
I open the bag and draw out the box, handing it over. “There you go.”
“Thanks Nikki,” she hollers, already running away toward the small group of children gathered around a blow-up pool in the yard.
When I make it to the front of the car, Derek pulls me close and holds onto my hip as we walk. “It’ll be fun,” he assures me.
Smiling faintly, I tell him, “You and I have very different ideas of fun.”
“Derek,” someone calls from inside the garage. I look up and see a woman waving, standing and adjusting her bikini as she heads toward us.
This was a terrible idea. I am not ready for this today. The blonde woman looks at me with a big grin on her face. “And who is this?”
Before she gets to us, Derek murmurs only for me, “This is Sienna, she’s Simon’s fiancée. She didn’t go to school with us.” Another woman comes out when she hears that question. “That’s—” Before he can answer, two more women follow. “Aw, shit, they’re swarming.”
All four woman approach—a blonde, two brunettes, and a redhead. Sienna is the blonde, and she introduces herself first.
“Joanna,” the redhead says, thrusting her hand at me, a big smile on her face. “I’m Tommy’s wife. The two little boys running around trying to impress Cassie over there are ours.”
I glance over to see Cassidy sitting on the lawn with her box of Fruit Roll-Ups. Girls sit gathered around her and two dark-haired boys run around in front of them, like Cassidy is holding court and they’re the entertainment.
One of the brunettes has a mom bob. She’s wearing a tank top and khaki short
s. The brunette next to her is pretty with freckles across the bridge of her nose and wavy brown hair. She’s wearing a skimpy bikini and—whoa, glaring at me so hard, I should probably have burn holes in me.
Forcing a smile as her eyes dance with murder, she asks with manufactured brightness, “And who are you?”
“Uh…”
Derek’s arm around me tightens and he tugs me closer to his body. “This is Nikki. Nikki, this is Sienna, Mallory, Pam, and Joanna already said hi.”
The one who hates my guts already is named Mallory. I have never met her before in my life, so I am a little off-kilter by her clear, vehement dislike of me. I remember Pam from school, she was dating one of Derek’s friends. I don’t remember which one. If she remembers me, I certainly can’t tell. Nothing like familiarity or recognition crosses her face, but it’s not like I ever spent time with these people, so I don’t expect her to remember me. I know Ryan recognized my name at the restaurant, but maybe it was because I introduced myself as “Nikki Harmon” instead of just Nikki.
“Is Cassie playing already?” Mallory asks, looking over in the yard. “Oh, I better go say hi. I just love that little girl. Cute as a button.” Reaching her hand forward, she touches Derek’s bicep as she moves past. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
He ignores her completely, like she didn’t even speak to him.
Her gaze drops with clear disappointment, but she forces a smile and goes bouncing off toward Cassidy to say hi.
Oh, great. That’s why she hates me. I slide a look at Derek to let him know as soon as we get away from this swarm of women, I will be expecting details, but he’s not looking at me. I look past him and watch Mallory squat down and hold up her hand to Cassidy for a high five. I struggle not to run over there, grab a fistful of her wavy hair, and tell her to stay away from not-my-boyfriend and not-my-kid.
Oh, boy. This is not going to be fun. We’ve been here for ten seconds and I’m already jealous of some chick Derek must have history with.
Dammit, Derek.
“You’re just in time,” Pam tells me. “We made margaritas. You want one?”