by Nicole Snow
Fine. I step forward and give him a quick thank you squeeze.
His statue stiffness tells me I should've went with hand shake.
Crap.
I really am an idiot. But it's not like I have experience handling gorgeous men who pretend-kiss like it's the end of the world.
“Goodnight, guys!” I spin around and jump in my car, slamming the door shut, before I make this more awkward.
I wait until they turn around to walk across the three parking spaces between his truck and my car before leaning my forehead against the steering wheel. Mortification overwhelms me.
Heat does, too. Inside and out. It’s been a brutal summer. Hot and windy, the autumn break can’t come soon enough. Southern Arizona isn't a humid place, but the dry, hundred degree plus days wear on a body and soul.
I crank the window for fresh air and glance out the opening. There's a car rumbling up beside mine. Not Brent and Natalie's.
My heart leaps in my throat, but then slides back down where it belongs when I realize who it is.
Clara. Damn!
After everything went haywire tonight, I spaced on our plans to meet here so she could drop off one of her famous pies.
It's too late to stop the chain reaction. I see Brent gesturing furiously at Natalie to get in his truck as he starts walking back towards me. Opening the door, I climb out, hands in front of me. “Whoa, whoa, it’s okay! Nothing scary. This is just my cousin, Clara.”
Clara doesn’t miss a beat. If she was a curious cat, she'd have lost about all nine lives by now. “Isabella Derby!” She's already shaking her head.
Oh, God. Here it comes.
Holding out her hand, she walks straight toward Brent. “Who on Earth is this fine specimen?”
I run. Around the back end of her car, to her side.
I’m too late to stop anything. Natalie is already answering, “He’s our hero tonight!”
Seriously. Where's the hole in the ground? The kind that can swallow a person whole, when we need one?
“Hero?” Both of Clara’s eyes are wider than an owl's as she looks at me and blinks. “Isabella Derby!”
Forget the hole in the ground. The brutal smile on her face makes me wish I had one in my head.
This night truly can't get any worse.
I love Clara, but she’s the biggest gossip in the family. And I'm not sure Derby blood was ever compatible with privacy.
“He’s just...the father of one of my students. Nothing to worry about,” I say, adding so much emphasis it hurts my tongue.
Her smile turns coy as she turns back to Brent. Sticking out her hand even further, she says, “Well, well, it's truly a pleasure. Clara Derby, Big Daddy. How do you do?”
Brent shakes her hand with an uneasy smile. I just close my eyes and pray for this day to be over. It's cursed. From the very second my alarm went off this morning.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Derby.” I hear him say. Then, “I'm afraid I have to run. Good seeing Isabella with a friend.”
He gives me a knowing glance. I die once under his striking eyes, and again when I hear how my name sounds on his lips.
“Brent,” I whisper. His name, rather than Mr. Eden, tastes wonderful in my mouth, too.
“Goodnight, Ladies.”
My eyes snap open and I watch him walk to the truck. Clara’s mouth drops.
I want to laugh. As painful as this is, it's so ridiculous it's kinda surreal.
Nerves. Has to be. Yet, in my defense, the way he didn’t give Clara what she wanted, a name to Google, is comical.
He climbs into his truck and starts the engine.
Clara turns to me, mouth still hanging open and eyes wide. Her silence only lasts a nano-second.
“OMG!” she hisses. “He’s to die for, Izzy!”
I can’t agree. Well, I can, but I won’t.
I still can't believe I forgot about her stupid pie.
Fuck. This is turning out to be the night of unwanted company to the nth degree.
Clara’s long dark hair whips in the wind as she turns to his truck and then back to me. “Where? How? How long? Is he your dating site match-up guy? Why didn't you tell me you'd matched a ten out of ten hunk, lady?”
“What? No, no, no, and no!” I try to wipe out all her rapid fire questions at once.
“You're terrible for holding out on me. I thought we were family! You never said how your date turned out – mighty good by the looks of him. I mean, it.”
I shake my head. “Clara, it's late. I should be getting home.”
“I brought you a pie! Coconut cream.” Clara winks, reaching in the door she’d left open, her car still running. “Your favorite. I made a couple for dinner, and everyone agreed I should drop one off since you missed out. You're welcome, cuz.”
Just great. I don’t even like coconut cream pie that much.
Like most everything about the family dinners, I pretend I do to keep the peace. Then, a solid escape opportunity dawns on me. “Awesome!” I snatch the pie from her hand, feigning joy. “Better go before this melts. Have a nice night, Clara!”
“You really need a new car, Izzy. One with modern air conditioning.”
“Someday, when I can afford it.” I hold up the pie and smile as if I can’t wait to bite into it. “Mmmm, supper! Thanks again.”
I’m half way to my car, when her question stops me.
“Does your mama know about Big Daddy?”
I spin around as my stomach hits the ground. “Nope. And that's the way it's gonna stay because there isn’t anything to know.”
“He’s still sitting there. Watching.” She smiles, nods toward their truck, and does a small wave.
“He’s just being polite.” I start walking again. “And we're being rude, Clara. He has a little girl to get home to put to bed. He's waiting for us to leave. Making sure we're safe.” I leave it there so I don't have to mention, much less think about Preston again.
“So...no mother? No wife? I mean, if you've got to deal with her, there are always ways around the drama. You can't let that stop you!”
“Clara.”
“Okay, okay! I’m just curious.”
“Nosy, you mean,” I mumble, climbing in my car. As the engine purrs to life, I wave. “Thanks again for the pie.”
She gets in her car and pulls away. I follow. Brent follows me. I try to let out a huff of relief, but there's none in me. I follow Clara’s tail lights to the highway.
Thank God.
I cringe. Hoping he doesn’t plan on following me all the way to my place in Tempe. Knowing Clara, she’s already considering how to turn around and follow him home. My mind starts spinning faster than the nighttime traffic whipping down the four-lane highway.
A small sense of relief seeps out of me when I look in my mirrors again. Brent takes an exit. And I don’t see a car that looks like Clara’s anymore.
Then reality hits home.
Jesus! This night could've been an even bigger disaster.
If Clara ever hears what Brent said to Preston, about us being engaged, I’m toast.
And so is he.
There's no drama in the known universe like Derby drama.
And me, being a single crazy cat lady for the rest of my life, has been the main family tragedy for months.
Who knew the fix could be even worse?
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