“What? Are you hiding something from me again?” Tova's lips part, her eyes filling with sadness. There is no way I can keep what I know from her. I already slipped away with Marks to Italy, which I know hurt Tova’s feelings. She felt left out, and I don’t want her to feel that way again.
“Don’t get sad! I’ll tell you.” Her mouth forms a line. “I will, holy crap. I’ll fight a bear with a Taco Bell spork to get that expression off your face.”
She snorts, that disappointed, sad expression fading away.
“It was kind of more of a moment, and it slipped my mind until just now because she’s still being so flighty.”
“Oh?” Tova brows rise.
“It went down between her and Z, and him knowing a secret about what she’s up to.”
“Oh, so he’s keeping secrets too!” Tova throws her hands up. Now it’s my turn to lift my brows. These men have all kinds of secrets we don’t poke around about. “Yeah, okay. That we can let slide. For now.”
“That was kind of the same thing Z said. That whatever the secret was, it’s maybe around our family; I don’t know.” I huff out a breath because, yeah, I don’t get it.
“Really?” Her nose scrunches, and I’m sure mine’s doing the same.
“Ope!” I snapped my fingers. “Also that she might be a stalker.”
I try to think if I can remember more. I was still really caught up in Z showing up then; my mind had been racing with so many thoughts that day. “But Z told her he would keep his mouth shut for now. Unless I asked him. But it was kind of clear that she didn’t want me to know or was embarrassed about it.”
“Embarrassed? Marks?”
“Good point.” Does anything embarrass her? It’s actually one of her many superpowers. We both stand there pondering this.
“Wait, hairy thighs are coming to mind.” I stare at Tova because, out of everything she could have said right now, I just didn’t see that one coming.
"Hairy thighs?" I repeat her words to confirm that I heard her correctly. Tova nods. "I mean, thighs are nice, don’t get mewrong. I'll take them hairy or not. Z's aren’t bad, but his ass, that's where it's at. He’s got some junk in the trunk. Good for grabbing on to.”
"What's wrong with my thighs?" I spin around to see Z standing in the doorway, his arms filled with boxes.
"Are those mine?"
"Does anyone else around here have a shopping addiction?"
Chef Marcello does, but I keep that to myself. I'm not outing him. No way do I want to be on his bad side. His homemade Pop-Tarts are to die for, and I’m not losing my breakfast privileges.
"It's not an addiction." I gasp. "I'm making us a home." I wave my arms around the room. "I also have to spend some of that money. It keeps reappearing faster than I can go through it."
Z gave me a card and told me it was for our joint account. The number of zeros attached to the balance was insane. I thought as his wife I should spend some of it to, you know, help him out. You have to make a man feel needed. Right? I don't know. Sounds good in my head, and I've got nothing else to do right now. The thing is, no matter how much I spend, it just reappears. It's magic, really.
"If that makes you happy, dear," Z chuckles, taking my boxes over to the other side of the room and stacking them nicely. He even goes about straightening a few of them while giving me a view of said nice ass.
Yeah, I'm kind of a mess, and he's well organized. Z doesn't appear to be bothered by my disorganized chaos. Hey, he chose to love me, and all of my messiness is a part of it.
“What are you two up to?” Z asks, as he strides over toward me and Tova. Why is this man walking even sexy to me? He leans down, taking my mouth in a kiss.
“Ahem.” Tova clears her throat, bringing us back to reality. I might have forgotten we’d been in the middle of something.
“We were both just saying that we were worried about Marks. We haven’t heard from her much lately.” Oh, Tova is good. She’s not wasting any time trying to pump my husband for information.
“I’m sure she’s fine. It’s Marks; it’s not like she hasn’t been flighty before. She’s probably on a job or something.” Z tries to placate Tova. I keep my mouth shut, knowing that if I ask Z, he will tell me the truth, and I don’t want to put him in that position. Even though I want the scoop.
“Maybe.” Tova knows he’s deflecting. “But I think there’s something else going on. She’s my best friend, and I’m going to get to the bottom of whatever it is.”
“Hey! What am I, small potatoes over here?” I interject.
“You’re my family. My sister.” Tova rolls her eyes.
