“What’d your mother say this time?”
Jordan’s question brought her out of her musings. “If this is because I got your money back,” she muttered, “you don’t have to entertain me. Go on back and play with your friends.”
“You’re my friend.”
She stared up at the tongue-and-groove ceiling. Clearly, the universe wasn’t through messing with her this week. Because the last thing she would assume Jordan considered her was a “friend.” Not after Tuesday. Or the hospital. Or the trade to Houston.
“I only met those guys tonight,” he added. “And since none of them bothered to tell me the rules about Luis’s shenanigans, I think calling them ‘friends’ goes too far. Somehow, I think they’ll be fine without me. So what’d your mother say this time?”
Cam didn’t attempt to fake a denial. “It’s not what she said. It’s what I said in response.” She took a deep sip of her cocktail and let the alcohol tickle her taste buds before swallowing. “I don’t know how I could be so stupid. I was jetlagged. I was hungry. And she was serving this stupid dry chicken breast and tasteless vegetables, and she’s all dolled up in a slinky dress and...” God, she had to stop rerunning it in her head like instant replay—forward and reverse and forward and reverse. “...she just got to me tonight.”
“Why? What’d she say?” he pressed.
Another sip, another zing on her tongue. “That’s the stupid part. She didn’t say anything I haven’t heard a thousand times before. I look tired. Of course, I look tired! I’d just put in a fourteen-hour day. I should fix my hair. Because that’s the most important thing on my mind right now. If I hit the gym more often, maybe I could catch a man.”
Cam swirled the contents of her glass, allowing the ice cubes to clink against each other. She didn’t want to reveal all this to him. She wanted Bertie. Bertie, who never abandoned her when she didn’t react the way he’d anticipated. Bertie, who loved her unconditionally—the way she once thought Jordan loved her. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back.
“The thing is,” she continued, still staring at the clear liquid and little slice of green spinning in her glass, “Mom always says the same stuff. She just wants what’s best for me. She worries about me. She wants to see me settled with someone who loves me unconditionally. Normally, I shrug it off, but tonight...” As the centrifugal force slowed, she placed her glass back on the cocktail napkin. “Tonight, I went off on her.”
Jordan folded his arms on the table and leaned closer. “What’d you do?”
“I didn’t do anything, not physically. When she started the unconditional love crap, I pointed out to her that, with her marriage record, she’s a lousy example of loving anybody unconditionally.”
He gave her a curt nod, but his expression remained inscrutable. “Good point. How’d she react to that?”
“She got all stiff and frowny-faced, and she shut down. Like her whole body became one big open wound. I swear to God, she got so hurt so fast, she was practically bleeding out her eyelids.” The memory of her mother’s reaction sent a chill down her spine, and she hugged herself to ward off a round of shivers. “She can say whatever she wants to me, and I’ve gotta take it because she’s my mother. But I snap back at her just once, and I’m the world’s worst daughter for hurting her feelings. I couldn’t handle her expression, or the iciness in the room. So I said I was sorry, got up, and left.”
He waited a beat, saying nothing, staring at her, until she glared back at him. He blinked first. “You mean, that’s it?”
She slapped a hand on the table top. “Yes, ‘that’s it.’ What’d you expect? That I set fire to the plates or something?”
“No, I’m just wondering why you’re so upset over it, that’s all. Did she at least acknowledge your apology?”
“No.”
His lips twisted in a smirk of distaste. “Not surprising. Don’t tell me you expected her to.”
She hugged herself even tighter. “No.”
“So, then, what’s the problem? You told her a truth she needed to hear. Quite frankly, you probably should have said something to her at least two husbands ago.”
“You didn’t see her reaction.” Her throat dried on the last word, and she grabbed her drink to take a deep swig.
“She’ll get over it. I know her. And I know you. She loves to play the drama card, and you swallow your impatience every time she puts on a performance, instead of putting her in her place.” He narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at her. “Too much of Bertie’s influence there.”
“Don’t you start.” She was not about to listen to someone else try to malign her one and only support system.
Sal returned with a tall glass of ginger ale and another napkin. “Everything okay, Cam?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion toward Jordan.
She waved him off. “Everything’s fine.”
“Hey, Cam!” Luis called out from behind her. “Feel like playing a game? The guys are tired of getting their butts kicked.”
Yes. She craved the release of cracking a few balls. The innuendo wasn’t lost on her, and she hid her smirk behind her glass then drained the contents. She glanced at Jordan. “You wanna play doubles? Between us, we can take him. It’ll give us both back a little ego tonight.”
He grinned. “I like the way you think.”
She got to her feet and proclaimed, “Rotation game with partners. Me and Jordan.” Pointing between the two of them, she skooched out of the booth to stand beside him.
“You’re on.” Luis clapped his hands and offered a toothy smile full of confidence and bravado. “Me and Kenny against you two. Let’s do it.”
JORDAN GLANCED AT HIS watch and mentally tried to push time ahead. Marcus should have been here by now. If he’d had the brains he was born with, he would have turned down Cam’s
