Read Online Like Sweet Potato Pie by Jennifer Rogers Spinola - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Rogers Spinola
Ads: Link
Nationalistic Argentinean snob.”
“Tell me about it.” Kyoko laughed into her tea. “Carlos is one lame-o if I’ve ever seen one. Sorry, Ro, but it’s true. You deserve better than him.”
She switched topics with lightning speed. Her specialty. “So what’s your middle name? You promised to tell me.”
“I never promised that!”
“Peabody?”
“Keep trying. And guess female names.”
“Hey, you never know.”
I stared down at the yellow-green liquid in my teacup, reflecting the glass light fixture overhead. Carlos’s name still stung a little. “Have you … seen him since then?”
“Who, Peabody?”
“Carlos.”
She glared into her teacup and then at me. “I was afraid you’d ask.”
“Well, have you?” The question leaped into my throat, and I trembled, looking away. Carlos had done me wrong and not thought twice, but the thought of his cologne made my pulse speed up a notch. His gorgeous face and dark eyes. Sharp Italian suits.
Beyond his good looks, I’d … well, loved him. Or thought I did. I turned my teacup around on the dish, trying to blot out the bitter ache that rose with his memory.
She snorted. “In person, no. Thankfully. But apparently he’s modeling shirts or something now.”
“What?” I jerked my head up.
“I know. I was taking the subway to Nakameguro when,
bam!
There’s Carlos’s ugly mug right over the subway door. Sheesh.” She rolled her eyes. “Japanese companies’ll slap just about any foreigner on ads these days.”
“Yeah.” I tried to chuckle as if it didn’t bother me. “Is he still with … Mia?”
Kyoko gave an exasperated sigh. “As if I would know! Honestly, you’re better off without him. Let him go!” She gave me a fierce look over her teacup. “Little liar! I wish he’d go model subway tracks for a while.”
She sipped in angry silence. Either he still loved Mia and Kyoko refused to tell me, or she really didn’t know. I decided to drop it.
“I have let him go, Kyoko. It’s over. It’s just hard to put the past to rest sometimes.”
“Well, do it! Find a farmer or something.” She jabbed at her teacup with a spoon. “Carlos didn’t love you, Ro. I don’t know how else to put it, but there it is.”
“I know.” I avoided her eyes.
“You do? I thought you bought all his drivel about … Never mind.” Kyoko waved it away. “Well, at least you’ve come to your senses.”
“I’m not sure I even know what love is, Kyoko.” I poured some more tea from my black Japanese teapot. “I’m confused.”
“Well, earth to Ro. It wasn’t Carlos.” Her voice softened just a touch, probably to keep me from bursting into tears again. Kyoko eschewed tears as ardently as affection.
“Yeah.” My tea shimmered, wisps of steam floating heavenward. “It’ll take me some time to figure out what love really is, you know? I’m thinking differently these days.”
“Here we go. Your new Bible-thumping spirituality.” She stared at the ceiling. “You gonna give me a gospel tract now?”
I tried to laugh like she did, pretending to go along with the joke. Then quickly picked up my teacup and turned Kyoko’s own split-second subject change on her. “So what’s the techie scene in Akiba? Anything interesting?”
I knew it would occupy her mind. And it did. For the next hour and a half.
I couldn’t sleep with the long day clogging my head. Shane, Ashley, Kyoko, Carlos. All roiling in my exhausted brain like a Japanese typhoon.
I tossed on the pillow, eyes staring up at the shadowy wallpaper. Christie curled up next to me in a warm, fuzzy ball against the blankets. I know, I know. Dog hair. Pets. Real-estate rules. Blah, blah, blah.
I put newspapers down, okay?
But I needed her to stop crying that pitiful little whine from her box as much as I needed her warmth. Her quivering back pressed tightly against the crook of my elbow. Her quiet, steady breath to fill the tremors of worry in my stomach.
I had a feeling. A
“Tell me about it.” Kyoko laughed into her tea. “Carlos is one lame-o if I’ve ever seen one. Sorry, Ro, but it’s true. You deserve better than him.”
She switched topics with lightning speed. Her specialty. “So what’s your middle name? You promised to tell me.”
“I never promised that!”
“Peabody?”
“Keep trying. And guess female names.”
“Hey, you never know.”
I stared down at the yellow-green liquid in my teacup, reflecting the glass light fixture overhead. Carlos’s name still stung a little. “Have you … seen him since then?”
“Who, Peabody?”
“Carlos.”
She glared into her teacup and then at me. “I was afraid you’d ask.”
“Well, have you?” The question leaped into my throat, and I trembled, looking away. Carlos had done me wrong and not thought twice, but the thought of his cologne made my pulse speed up a notch. His gorgeous face and dark eyes. Sharp Italian suits.
Beyond his good looks, I’d … well, loved him. Or thought I did. I turned my teacup around on the dish, trying to blot out the bitter ache that rose with his memory.
She snorted. “In person, no. Thankfully. But apparently he’s modeling shirts or something now.”
“What?” I jerked my head up.
“I know. I was taking the subway to Nakameguro when,
bam!
There’s Carlos’s ugly mug right over the subway door. Sheesh.” She rolled her eyes. “Japanese companies’ll slap just about any foreigner on ads these days.”
“Yeah.” I tried to chuckle as if it didn’t bother me. “Is he still with … Mia?”
Kyoko gave an exasperated sigh. “As if I would know! Honestly, you’re better off without him. Let him go!” She gave me a fierce look over her teacup. “Little liar! I wish he’d go model subway tracks for a while.”
She sipped in angry silence. Either he still loved Mia and Kyoko refused to tell me, or she really didn’t know. I decided to drop it.
“I have let him go, Kyoko. It’s over. It’s just hard to put the past to rest sometimes.”
“Well, do it! Find a farmer or something.” She jabbed at her teacup with a spoon. “Carlos didn’t love you, Ro. I don’t know how else to put it, but there it is.”
“I know.” I avoided her eyes.
“You do? I thought you bought all his drivel about … Never mind.” Kyoko waved it away. “Well, at least you’ve come to your senses.”
“I’m not sure I even know what love is, Kyoko.” I poured some more tea from my black Japanese teapot. “I’m confused.”
“Well, earth to Ro. It wasn’t Carlos.” Her voice softened just a touch, probably to keep me from bursting into tears again. Kyoko eschewed tears as ardently as affection.
“Yeah.” My tea shimmered, wisps of steam floating heavenward. “It’ll take me some time to figure out what love really is, you know? I’m thinking differently these days.”
“Here we go. Your new Bible-thumping spirituality.” She stared at the ceiling. “You gonna give me a gospel tract now?”
I tried to laugh like she did, pretending to go along with the joke. Then quickly picked up my teacup and turned Kyoko’s own split-second subject change on her. “So what’s the techie scene in Akiba? Anything interesting?”
I knew it would occupy her mind. And it did. For the next hour and a half.
I couldn’t sleep with the long day clogging my head. Shane, Ashley, Kyoko, Carlos. All roiling in my exhausted brain like a Japanese typhoon.
I tossed on the pillow, eyes staring up at the shadowy wallpaper. Christie curled up next to me in a warm, fuzzy ball against the blankets. I know, I know. Dog hair. Pets. Real-estate rules. Blah, blah, blah.
I put newspapers down, okay?
But I needed her to stop crying that pitiful little whine from her box as much as I needed her warmth. Her quivering back pressed tightly against the crook of my elbow. Her quiet, steady breath to fill the tremors of worry in my stomach.
I had a feeling. A
Similar Books
