“I didn’t tell you to brag. I just…you asked, so it was tell or lie.”
“I didn’t see it as a brag. You’re right. I did ask. I’m glad you told me the truth.”
“I’m not a liar. That’s important to me.” Beks reached out under the table and stroked her knee, just once.
Bekka’s touch was hot, and Marissa froze, torn between pushing it away and taking it. “I never called you a liar.”
“No, I know. That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t accusing you of anything.” Beks removed her hand, and Marissa missed the touch. “Someone was awful to you, wasn’t she?”
Sure, she’d been lied to, but she didn’t mean to put that on Rebekka. “Sorry.” She nodded and looked down at the table, gathering her thoughts and trying to hold back the anger. “She was cheating. And not one time, and it wasn’t some terrible mistake she regretted. She’d been playing me for months. Maybe the whole time we were together. I don’t even know.”
“What a cunt.”
The words shocked Marissa—both the speed of them and the tone. Beks was usually all positive, all the time.
So shocking, she had to laugh. “Agreed. A fucking cunt.” And that was the first time she’d smiled about Josie in months.
“Well, we’ll drink to you being free of that nonsense. Jesus, I can’t imagine. Cheating on you?”
“I’m an idiot, obviously.” Their drinks landed on the table and the server moved on without stopping.
“She’s an idiot and a liar and a terrible bitch.”
She raised her glass. “Here, here.”
Beks clinked their mugs together. “May she have crotch rot, forever.”
“When did you learn how to say the right thing at the right time?” Maybe Beks always had, maybe she hadn’t been a very good listener.
“It’s my gift, and I’ve trained for it a lot, believe it or not.”
“I believe it.” She didn’t know how you trained for something like that, though. “It’s pretty impressive.”
“Thank you. Now, tell me about your job. Your space. Your world. It’s more interesting than mine.”
“Me? I just did exactly what I said I was going to do. I graduated, went to New York, and found my marketing job. I’m a creative director; I have artists and professionals working for me from all over the country. It’s fun, and I love that people are from everywhere. I can work pretty much anywhere I want.” She’d already started to wonder, even before this all happened to her, whether she wanted to stay in the city when she could live somewhere else and still make her salary.
“I think that’s great. I can too—I mean, all my clients are online, and I can make my own schedule. It’s so freeing.”
It was hard to imagine that someone could honestly make a living reading tarot cards. It just felt so far outside reality. Marissa wouldn’t have believed it was possible except that Beks had always insisted she would, and she had.
The pizza arrived with two little bowls of warm honey, and she shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”
“I promise it can’t hurt.” Beks grinned and grabbed a fork, digging right in. She took a big bite and hummed. “The sauce is sweetish.”
Honey and pizza. Unsuspecting New Yorkers were having nightmares as she took a bite.
But it wasn’t bad.
Sweet for sure, but it went with the sausage well. “Okay, I’m not hating it yet…”
“That’s better than flat-out refusal. It’s not everyday pizza. It’s a calorie bomb wonder.”
“Of that I have no doubt. Perfectfuck that bitch anywayfood.” She took another bite. The cheese and the crust were heavy, but she felt lighter anyway.
“Attagirl.” The nod and the proud smile made Marissa straighten her spine.
“Try the honey with me, I’m not doing it alone.” She chuckled and ripped off a piece of the thick crust.