The New Husband(57)
“What? No!” Nina sounded indignant. “We’ve had it planned for ages.”
“Well, that’s before you took a new job that’s taking up all your time, and before I made things even worse with Maggie. And now this lab report disaster? I hate to say that I could use a buffer around here, Nina, but you’re putting a lot on me.”
“Connor can look after Maggie when I’m away; you don’t have to do anything.”
Nina’s voice carried a gasp of desperation; she’d been looking forward to this weekend for ages, but her earlier misgivings, the same ones Simon expressed, had returned with a vengeance.
“That’s really not my point, is it?” Simon rebutted. “Things are falling apart here. You’re working all the time and then you’re going off with your girlfriends. That leaves me to deal with everything and it doesn’t exactly seem fair. That’s what I’m talking about.”
Nina swallowed hard, because a part of her understood his logic and agreed. She also wanted to avoid a fight at any cost, because right now her focus was on matters more pressing.
“I get it, I really do,” she said. “I’ll talk to Ginny and Susanna, maybe we can reschedule.”
Maybe they can get even more upset with me, Nina lamented.
“Thanks for being so understanding, honey. I’ll have dinner waiting for you when you get home.”
“Sounds good,” Nina said. “Thanks, babe. Love you. Bye.”
On the drive to Carson, Nina vacillated between two thoughts: what she would say to Teresa, and how on earth to break the news to Ginny and Susanna that her participation in the long-planned girls’ weekend was now in doubt.
Both those concerns vanished the moment she set foot inside the Muddy Moose. The smell alone, sawdust, cooking oil, and beer, took her back to the first time she had gone there searching for the waitress.
A cluster of men sat at the dark bar, just as before, hunched over their respective beers, backs aglow in neon, with the mounted heads of dead animals keeping close watch. Additional patrons sat at the scattered pedestal tables, and, given the hour, Nina assumed they were part of a regular after-work crowd.
From the jukebox, the Eagles serenaded the crowd with a story about a lonely desperado. At the back of the bar, two double doors swung open, presumably leading to the kitchen, and out came Teresa, wearing a black top over a short skirt, high boots, and enough jangling jewelry to turn her into a walking wind chime. Even from a distance Nina could see the hardscrabble living fused to Teresa’s face. Still, she was extremely pretty with that strawberry-colored hair, sexy in the way she carried herself with confidence, and once again it was easy to see why Glen had sutured his lips to her cheek and then to her lips in those kisses.
For a moment, the anger remained visceral—to think her husband had junked her for this woman. Nina was the old model traded in for a flashy (or trashy) newer one. She’d been put to pasture. She’d been made a damn cliché. But then Nina remembered that she was here to get information, and simmering anger would turn Teresa off. With a few deep breaths and long exhales, Nina managed to let go of any lingering animosity.
Teresa weaved between the tables, expertly balancing a tray of steaming hot food, most of it fished from the depths of boiling oil moments ago. She delivered the goods to a table of salivating young people with a smile that made it clear she understood what it meant to work for tips.
Approaching from behind, Nina tapped Teresa on the shoulder after she had jettisoned the heavy food. The marginally perturbed look on Teresa’s face when she spun around suggested she was anticipating some complaint: a missing beer, wings without sauce.
“Can I help you?” Teresa sounded genuinely relaxed, not a hint of recognition in her eyes. Nina waited for her to make a connection that didn’t come. Certainly, she’d have known from the news that her missing paramour had a family.
“I’m Nina, Glen’s wife,” she finally said, wishing she could subdue the shake in her voice.
Teresa returned a blank stare as she switched her tray from one hand to the other. “Have we met?” she asked.
Nina had her phone and the pictures at the ready. Teresa studied the images for a quiet moment, before her expression changed to one of utter surprise.
“What the hell is this?” she said. “Where did you get these? Who are you?”
“I’m Glen’s wife, Nina.”
Teresa gave a deep-throated laugh. “Holy shit. Is this a revenge thing? Are you armed? Honey, I swear to you I barely remember that night.”
“Night? You were in love.”
“What?” Teresa’s painted eyebrows went up. “No, no, darlin’, you got that all wrong. We were in lust, one drunken night only. One.” A single finger raised in the air emphasized her claim.
“But the message?”
“What message?”
Nina showed Teresa the text she’d received along with the pictures, and could see the shift happen like a tide of sympathy rolling in. Whatever hardness lingered in Teresa’s gaze emptied on the spot.
“Okay, okay, I think I know what’s going on here,” Teresa said, talking sweetly. “Well, not about your husband, but at least about these pictures. Let’s you and I sit and talk.”
CHAPTER 32