One Foolish Night
Page 41
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“So is this your first time at the house?” Tara asked while she put the salad into the spinner and covered it with the lid.
“Um, yes.”
“I hadn’t had a chance yet to introduce Holly to my parents,” Paul added.
Tara chuckled and nudged Paul with her elbow, an action that made Holly’s blood pressure rise. “Not that that’s much of a loss.” She and Paul exchanged a conspiratorial look.
Holly placed the plates she’d grabbed from the cabinet on the kitchen island with a loud clank. “Why is that?” Did Tara think Holly wasn’t worth being introduced to somebody’s parents?
“Paul’s mother can be quite judgmental. Now, his father is a darling.”
Paul groaned. “Tara, why don’t you call it like it is? My father is pussy-whipped.”
Tara gave him a wide smile. “I hear your mother was a stunning beauty when he met her. Guess she totally wrapped him around her little finger.” She glanced at Holly before she continued, “Better not make the same mistake as your father.”
Holly wrapped her fist tighter around the forks in her hand, fighting against the urge to stab this conniving woman in the eye.
“Well, beauty can be quite distracting for a man,” Paul confessed. “We just can’t help ourselves.” He lifted his shoulders in a comical shrug.
“As if you would ever lose your head!” Tara teased him. “You’re a lot more levelheaded than that.”
“That’s yet to be seen,” Paul said.
Before Holly could kill either of the two with an acid look, the chiming of the doorbell interrupted her.
“That must be the pizza. I’ll get it,” Paul announced, and charged out of the kitchen.
She was alone with Tara, who now placed the salad bowl on the kitchen island.
“Oh, I forgot the napkins,” Holly said, glad to have something else to do.
She walked around the island, when Tara opened a drawer and pulled out a few napkins. “Got ’em,” she said cheerfully, then leaned over the island, making a dismissive gesture. “I’ve been here a few times.”
Tara’s words didn’t help to assuage Holly’s feeling of not belonging. While she placed the napkins next to the plates, she said, “So you’re a friend of the family. Paul never mentioned you joining us here this week.”
“Oh, it was a last-minute thing,” Tara said lightly, and walked to the fridge to pull a bottle of salad dressing from it.
Of course it had been a last-minute thing: When Holly had made it clear to Paul that she wouldn’t sleep with him, he’d decided to invite Tara in hopes of getting some action from her. Clearly, he couldn’t keep his cock in his pants for long.
“Pizza!” Paul swept into the kitchen and with him the delicious smell of pizza fresh from the oven.
Holly suddenly realized how hungry she was.
“Let’s eat!” Paul placed the pizza in the middle of the kitchen island and opened the lid of the cardboard box. He was about to sit down on one of the barstools, when he stopped himself. “Oh, forgot the drinks. Who wants wine?”
“Red for me,” Tara said immediately.
Holly shook her head. “I’ll have water.”
Paul walked to the wine fridge and pulled out a bottle, then looked at her. “You sure? I have a really great vintage.” He pointed to the bottle.
“Not tonight,” Holly insisted. After all, she couldn’t drink alcohol during her pregnancy, at least not during the early months.
“If you say so.” Then he smiled at Tara. “More for you and me, then.”
While Paul opened the bottle and Tara pulled glasses from a kitchen cabinet, Holly sat on one of the bar stools. Inside, she seethed. Now Paul and Tara had another thing in common: both of them would be drinking wine, while she had to be different by drinking water. Everything she did seemed to widen the gap between her and Paul, while Tara snuck into that gap and made herself at home.
Paul poured two glasses of wine, while Tara poured a glass of water. A moment later, the two of them were seated at the kitchen island. Paul next to Holly, and Tara on his other side.
Paul lifted his glass. “Well, cheers, everybody. Thanks for helping me cook, Tara.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. It was just a salad.”
The girlish giggle that accompanied Tara’s words started to grate on Holly’s nerves. Was this what men really liked? A woman like Tara? Somebody who played down her own achievements and was subservient to a man? Because that was exactly the impression Holly got from Tara. She seemed smart and sophisticated, yet in all her interactions she appeared to take a backseat to Paul.
“Um, yes.”
“I hadn’t had a chance yet to introduce Holly to my parents,” Paul added.
Tara chuckled and nudged Paul with her elbow, an action that made Holly’s blood pressure rise. “Not that that’s much of a loss.” She and Paul exchanged a conspiratorial look.
Holly placed the plates she’d grabbed from the cabinet on the kitchen island with a loud clank. “Why is that?” Did Tara think Holly wasn’t worth being introduced to somebody’s parents?
“Paul’s mother can be quite judgmental. Now, his father is a darling.”
Paul groaned. “Tara, why don’t you call it like it is? My father is pussy-whipped.”
Tara gave him a wide smile. “I hear your mother was a stunning beauty when he met her. Guess she totally wrapped him around her little finger.” She glanced at Holly before she continued, “Better not make the same mistake as your father.”
Holly wrapped her fist tighter around the forks in her hand, fighting against the urge to stab this conniving woman in the eye.
“Well, beauty can be quite distracting for a man,” Paul confessed. “We just can’t help ourselves.” He lifted his shoulders in a comical shrug.
“As if you would ever lose your head!” Tara teased him. “You’re a lot more levelheaded than that.”
“That’s yet to be seen,” Paul said.
Before Holly could kill either of the two with an acid look, the chiming of the doorbell interrupted her.
“That must be the pizza. I’ll get it,” Paul announced, and charged out of the kitchen.
She was alone with Tara, who now placed the salad bowl on the kitchen island.
“Oh, I forgot the napkins,” Holly said, glad to have something else to do.
She walked around the island, when Tara opened a drawer and pulled out a few napkins. “Got ’em,” she said cheerfully, then leaned over the island, making a dismissive gesture. “I’ve been here a few times.”
Tara’s words didn’t help to assuage Holly’s feeling of not belonging. While she placed the napkins next to the plates, she said, “So you’re a friend of the family. Paul never mentioned you joining us here this week.”
“Oh, it was a last-minute thing,” Tara said lightly, and walked to the fridge to pull a bottle of salad dressing from it.
Of course it had been a last-minute thing: When Holly had made it clear to Paul that she wouldn’t sleep with him, he’d decided to invite Tara in hopes of getting some action from her. Clearly, he couldn’t keep his cock in his pants for long.
“Pizza!” Paul swept into the kitchen and with him the delicious smell of pizza fresh from the oven.
Holly suddenly realized how hungry she was.
“Let’s eat!” Paul placed the pizza in the middle of the kitchen island and opened the lid of the cardboard box. He was about to sit down on one of the barstools, when he stopped himself. “Oh, forgot the drinks. Who wants wine?”
“Red for me,” Tara said immediately.
Holly shook her head. “I’ll have water.”
Paul walked to the wine fridge and pulled out a bottle, then looked at her. “You sure? I have a really great vintage.” He pointed to the bottle.
“Not tonight,” Holly insisted. After all, she couldn’t drink alcohol during her pregnancy, at least not during the early months.
“If you say so.” Then he smiled at Tara. “More for you and me, then.”
While Paul opened the bottle and Tara pulled glasses from a kitchen cabinet, Holly sat on one of the bar stools. Inside, she seethed. Now Paul and Tara had another thing in common: both of them would be drinking wine, while she had to be different by drinking water. Everything she did seemed to widen the gap between her and Paul, while Tara snuck into that gap and made herself at home.
Paul poured two glasses of wine, while Tara poured a glass of water. A moment later, the two of them were seated at the kitchen island. Paul next to Holly, and Tara on his other side.
Paul lifted his glass. “Well, cheers, everybody. Thanks for helping me cook, Tara.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. It was just a salad.”
The girlish giggle that accompanied Tara’s words started to grate on Holly’s nerves. Was this what men really liked? A woman like Tara? Somebody who played down her own achievements and was subservient to a man? Because that was exactly the impression Holly got from Tara. She seemed smart and sophisticated, yet in all her interactions she appeared to take a backseat to Paul.
