had been reaching out for another French fry. Her hand stopped in midair. “Yeah,” she said heavily. “That Brad. He’s a pisser.”
Her strained tone made him take notice. “Sorry, Cor. I forgot. Didn’t you used to be his girlfriend? I questioned your taste even then.”
“Yeah, I was crazy for him for a while. It ended badly.” She took a sip of her frozen margarita and tried to smile. “I’ve put it behind me, but you know what’s funny? My bad judgment in men has endured the test of time. That’s why I’m still single.”
“You’re better off without Brad Mitchell,” he told her.
“I suppose,” she murmured. “You know, Simon, you’re made of stern stuff if you have the guts to be seen in public with me. Even your reputation might suffer, bozo, and that’s really saying something.”
He stared at her blankly. “Come again?”
“Didn’t you know?” Cora’s grin was impish. “I’m the scarlet woman of LaRue. It started the summer you ran off. The first rumor was that you and slutty gold-digger me had a hot, nasty affair while I was trying to trap Brad into a white trash marriage—”
“No way!” He was aghast.
“Uh huh. No joke. Then the word was that you’d gotten me pregnant, and that I sneaked off and aborted our secret love child. Since then, man, anything goes. You would not believe the shit some people say I’ll do for fifty bucks, or a line of coke.”
“But that’s such bullshit! What idiot would have believed that?”
Cora tried to laugh, but the effort was hollow. “Brad believed it.”
“So that was why he started pounding me that summer,” Simon said. “He thought that we—”
“Yup.” Cora took a gulp of her margarita. “Let’s let it go, though. If I think about it, I’m liable to drink too much.”
“OK,” he agreed readily. “If it’s so bad, why are you still here?”
“I did leave for a while. I lived up in Seattle for a few years, but big cities aren’t my thing. I felt rootless. Then Grandma died and left me her double-wide. So I held my nose, came back, and opened up the Wash-n-Shop. It’s a good business. Not what I dreamed of, and I work like a bastard, but it’s mine. Nobody can yell at me or order me around.”
“Amen,” Simon said. “I try to run my life like that, too. Except when I pull an idiot stunt like coming back to LaRue. It’s like begging to get bashed in the head. Ellen and Brad? Jesus. The ultimate insult.”
Cora nodded. “Ellen’s a sweet girl. That’s why it’s a bad match. He’s going to shove her around, and she’ll try to please him and accommodate his flaming bitch of a mother, and end up getting squished like a bug. It’s gonna be ugly.”
Simon covered his face with his hands. “Gee, thanks, Cor, for making that picture so vivid in my mind—”
“Brad should marry a woman who can kick his arrogant ass on an hourly basis,” Cora said grimly. “But I’m not good enough friends with Ellen to tell her that. Maybe you could.”
“I already tried,” he said. “She doesn’t want to hear it from me.”
Cora’s hand jerked, sloshing her margarita over the tablecloth. “Oh, crap. Speak of the devil. Too late to run for the ladies’ room.”
Simon turned his head. Sure enough. Brad peered through the restaurant window. His gaze locked with Simon’s, glittering with rage.
“Oh, crap, crap, crap,” Cora moaned, as the restaurant door swung open. “This is going to seriously screw with my digestion.”
He was big. Simon ticked off details with a detached professional eye. Bigger than he’d been in high school, but it was pumped-up gym bulk, not streamlined fighting muscle. Big, clenched fists, muscles twitching in his jaw, neck muscles contracted.
An inconvenience, but not a problem, the well-honed data processor in Simon’s head concluded. Unless he pulled out a gun, which was unlikely. “Hi, Brad,” Simon said. “Been a while.”
Brad’s eyes slid to Cora. “Well, well. Look at this. Didn’t waste any time, did you, Cor?”
She gave him a dazzling smile. “Oh, I never, ever do, Brad. You know me. Seize the moment, that’s my motto.”
His eyes flicked back to Simon. “I heard about you slinking around town today.”
“What constitutes slinking?” Simon asked.
“You should have stayed away,” Brad said. “Nobody wants you here, Riley. Burning property makes enemies.”
Simon sawed off a hunk of steak, put it in his mouth, chewed it.
Brad’s face tightened. “Listen to me. Get out of Ellen’s house. Then get out of town. I don’t want you near her. I will go to any lengths necessary to make you leave. Do we understand each other?”
Simon chomped a wedge of garlic bread. The restaurant was silent but for the sound of his bread crunching.
“Answer me when I speak to you!” Brad snarled.
Simon took a leisurely swallow of beer.
Brad’s mouth tightened. “OK, fine.” His voice was menacing. “You brought this on yourself, just like you did back in high school.”
Simon slid out of his chair as Brad grabbed his arm. He seized the flesh between Brad’s thumb and forefinger and flipped his wrist over, torquing it in one sinuous move. He applied pressure to the twisted tendons until Brad doubled over, gasping. “Let’s take this outside.”
“Let go of me, you worthless piece of shit,” Brad hissed.
Simon applied more pressure. Brad sucked air as Simon herded him around the tables of diners. Cora ran ahead, and yanked the door open. Her eyes were big and worried. Simon let Brad pitch forward.
Brad sprawled over the hood of his Porsche and scrambled to his feet. He cradled his wrist. “If you’ve broken my wrist, I’m suing!”
“I didn’t break anything,” Simon assured him. “Put ice on it.”
“Besides, you started it,” Cora said. “I saw you. Big bully.”
Brad’s eyes swept over the skin-tight jeans, the cleavage, the dangling earrings. “Who’s going to believe the town tramp?”
Simon feinted towards him, and Brad stumbled back. “Don’t speak to her that way, or I really will give you something to sue me for.”
“Keep away from Ellen, or I will ruin your life,” Brad snarled.
“I’m shaking,” Simon remarked. “Absolutely terrified.”
Brad shot Cora a final, contemptuous glance and climbed into his car. The tires squealed as he took off.
Simon
