Fix Her Up (Hot & Hammered #1)(80)

“Dinner is at seven, right? I’ll be ready to go at six.” Her smile felt stiff. “See you then?”

“My truck is at your place, Georgie. We’re running back together.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

After what felt like an endless staring contest, they jogged back in silence.





Chapter Twenty-Three


Georgie gaped as she stepped out of her car.

Chaos reigned inside Bethany’s house. Women spilled out the front door onto the porch, shielding their heads from the rain with umbrellas and newspapers. A deliveryman with a stack of pizzas pushed through the throng, holding up the bill like a white flag of surrender. Among the women, Georgie recognized her ninth-grade physics teacher, Boutique Tracy, and several other familiar Port Jefferson faces. Including her mother.

“Mom?”

“Georgie.” Vivian paused mid-conversation to wave her closer. “Will you pay for these pizzas? I don’t have any cash.”

Right. It was well known that Vivian carried everything she owned in her pocketbook, but couldn’t manage to slide out cash or credit cards, thanks to her acrylic nails. “Who ordered them?” Georgie called, leafing through her wallet as she reached the front yard. “Where is Bethany?”

“Inside, talking about stuff.” Her mother shooed some women aside so Georgie could tunnel through. “Come on, move. Make way for the founder.”

“I’m not the . . .” Georgie shook her head. “I just came up with the name.”

“Founder! Founder!” Vivian chanted. No one joined. “What took you so long to get here? You weren’t home on a weekday morning?”

Suddenly, everyone on the porch seemed interested in their conversation. “I was out for a run with Travis,” she said, cheeks burning. “I had to shower and change.”

“Must have been some shower,” Vivian remarked, juggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah.” Georgie cleared her throat. “Um. So everyone is here to join the Just Us League?”

A cheer went up around her, followed by a single shout of “Fuck them all!”

Once the clapping and whistling stopped, Georgie said, drily, “We’ll see what we can do about that,” handing some twenties to the pizza man and pausing on the threshold of the house to take in the scene.

It was standing room only in the living room and everyone was talking at once. Bethany was perched on the fireplace and seemed hell-bent on bringing order to a conversation, and thus she didn’t notice Georgie’s arrival. In the kitchen, Rosie shot like a gorgeous Ping-Pong ball between the oven and the marble island, dishing what looked like empanadas onto serving trays. Bottles of champagne and orange juice were everywhere. It was brunch meets insane asylum.

“Where should I put these pizzas?”

Wordlessly, Georgie took the stack of pies from the pizza man and ambled toward the kitchen. “Rosie, you need some help?” Georgie called over the noise. “Where’s Kristin?”

“I’m here!” singsonged her sister-in-law on her way down the stairs, a bright smile on her face. “Isn’t this fabulous?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“I’m good in here,” Rosie finally answered, sliding the tray of empanadas in her direction. “Just . . . will you try one?”

When Georgie’s stomach roared, she realized she was starving. Although she found it pretty difficult to regret skipping cereal in favor of orgasmic stand-up sex with Travis. Yeah. That was definitely her preferred method of sustenance, even though her reservations crowded in afterward. What did it say about Georgie that she was beginning to need Travis’s touch, whether it was emotionally healthy for her or not?

Unable to dwell on her current predicament, Georgie shooed the rain cloud above her head away. “Sure.” She snagged a meat-filled pastry off the tray and took a small bite, blowing at the steam before taking another. Flavor exploded in her mouth. It was the single best thing she’d ever tasted. In her life. There was richness and spice and texture, all surrounded by perfectly crisped dough. “Oh my God, Rosie. You made these? From scratch?”

“Yeah.” The other woman smiled into her wrist. “Bethany said there was a crowd and she didn’t have any food in the house, so I made a quick pit stop at the store.”

“I could live off these. I want to live off these.” Maybe it was the clarity that came from the best sleep of her life, followed by the best sex of anyone’s life, but Georgie was gripped by a sudden idea to push her friend’s dream a little closer to reality. “Rosie, can you whip up some more?”

She moved around some plastic bags on the counter. “I have enough ingredients to make three more batches.”

“Do it.” Georgie turned to her sister-in-law. “Kristin. You’re responsible for this mess. You can redeem yourself by making sure everyone in this room puts one of these empanadas in their mouth.”

Kristin sputtered a little, then relented with a chin lift. “Fine.”

Rosie caught her eye across the island. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking once everyone tastes what you can do . . . and wants more?” Georgie shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe we can crowdsource enough funds to open the restaurant.”