It’s so bizarre to see her act like a normal, responsible human being. Like something out of an alternate universe. It’s actually slightly creepy.
Tasha glances around the table. “I think we’re good. Thanks, Sylvie.”
Once she’s gone, Tasha turns to me. “So. I saw your Facebook video,” she says.
I have no clue what she’s wants, so I take a bite of taco. It’d be bad to say something wrong—this is the Girlfriend Test. I have to pass in order to be accepted as Becca’s approved Significant Other.
Granted, she married me for reasons other than love, but we’re trying to make it look authentic. Although the people around us are pretending not to watch, I can feel their gazes.
Par for the course. No matter how hard people try to act cool, they’re almost always drawn to celebrities and what they’re up to. And it’s my job to project the right picture.
“It wasn’t bad,” Tasha finally adds. “Did you see it, Becca?”
Becca nods. “I was there when he posted it.”
“Didn’t want anybody to make up stuff about us,” I say.
Tasha gives me a look I can’t quite decipher.
I put an arm around Becca’s shoulders. “We’re in love.”
Becca’s head swivels in my direction, her eyes wide. They remind me of a deer. A baby deer.
I feel like a dirty wolf about to corrupt her. And why shouldn’t I corrupt her? She’s my wife. So I kiss her, just a gentle peck, then do it again because it’s fun. And again because… Hell. I just want to because her mouth is soft, she feels amazing and I love the little tremor going through her sweet body.
Tasha clears her throat. “Uh-huh,” she says, full of skepticism.
Guess she didn’t buy it. “Okay, so maybe I love Becca more than she loves me. But still. It’s mutual.”
Becca looks at me like she’s torn between being impressed and embarrassed over what I’m saying. She murmurs, “I told you she already knows.”
I lean closer. “So? That doesn’t mean I have to be a standoffish asshole.”
Tasha shakes her head. “I thought you were a rock star, not an actor.”
“Either way, it’s a performance. For an audience.”
Something in Tasha’s eyes cools—she thinks I’m being flippant. But why should I have to tell her how I’m feeling? She’s my wife’s friend, not my wife, and I don’t like being forced to make up my mind about my emotions. Besides, she acted like she didn’t like it when I behaved lovey-dovey. The woman’s gotta make up her mind.
She asks Becca about her progress with commissioned pieces. Then they talk about makeup.
I’m only half listening, since I have no opinion on either. I do stage makeup when necessary, but that’s where my interest ends. And this dinner hasn’t exactly gone as I expected. Chalk it up to not being used to dealing with hostile females.
When Becca excuses herself to go to the bathroom, Tasha turns to me, scowling like a disapproving guard dog. “Look, you don’t reassure me.”
“How come?” I’ve been my charming self since I got to Drover. “Didn’t that secret Facebook club say I’ve been an awesome human being and husband?”
“It’s the Society, and it doesn’t matter what they said. Men don’t change easily.”
“Cynical much?” Still, I don’t see any reason to prove myself to her, especially when she doesn’t even know me as a person. Besides, she knows the real deal and what’s at stake for Becca. She should suck it up and play along, just like I’m doing what needs to be done so Becca can get the house.
Tasha lowers her voice. “I’m speaking as somebody who knows what’s really going on. If you hurt her, I’ll have to kill you.”
“Get in line.” What’s up with all this killing stuff? First Max and now Tasha. “And just so you know, burying a body takes a lot of work. Especially when people can see what you do in your backyard.” This town has zero privacy. None.
“Won’t have to bury anything.” She smiles. “All I have to do is wait for you to set foot in my yard.”
Jeez. Is it too late to sue whoever made Texas’s state motto “friendship”?