Two of a Kind (Fool's Gold #11)(34)

“Speaking as the recently divorced,” Isabel said, raising her margarita, “I’m intensely bitter.”

Noelle raised her glass of wine. “Me, too. But in a ‘I’m so happy for you’ kind of way.”

Conversation shifted to potential wedding dates. Patience admitted to wanting a fall ceremony but was concerned about the potential for early snow.

Felicia glanced at the clock and realized it was time to leave. She dropped ten dollars on the table and slid out of the booth. “I have to go,” she told her friends.

“We’ll want a report,” Isabel told her. “With details.”

* * *

“I SHOULD GO, too,” Patience said, when Felicia had left.

“Handsome man waiting at home,” Noelle said with a smile. “I’m envious but understanding.” She paused, frowning slightly. “This has been a happy hour with a full range of emotions. I’m exhausted.”

Isabel laughed. Consuelo waited for the other two women to say they had to leave, too. Or wait for her to go. She’d only just met them, and that was only because Felicia had invited her.

Consuelo knew she had nothing in common with the other women at the table. They’d grown up in quiet towns and cities, on the right side of the tracks. It wasn’t that she would guess no one else at the table had scars from bullets or knives, it was that if they knew what she’d done—at first out of necessity and then because she was good at it—they would never want to have anything to do with her again.

“Have a good time with Justice,” Isabel said, then glanced at Consuelo. “Noelle and I were going to stay for dinner. Will you join us?”

“Say yes,” Noelle urged. “We can be very fun.”

“That would be nice,” Consuelo said, before she could think of a reason to leave. In truth, she wanted to fit in, too. She shared Felicia’s desire to be normal but for different reasons. Like her friend, she probably wouldn’t get there, but she could fake it.

Isabel waved toward the woman behind the bar, who nodded, indicating she’d be over soon. “One of the advantages of living in Fool’s Gold. We can walk everywhere, so there’s no drinking and driving issue.” She crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. “Okay, I know you’re friends with Felicia and that you’ve been in the military. Were you in logistics, too?”

“Not exactly.”

They both stared at her expectantly.

“I was an operative. Some undercover work.”

Noelle’s blue eyes widened. “You were a spy? Like James Bond? Only, you know, a girl?”

“That’s me,” Consuelo said lightly, then smiled. “Actually it’s not that interesting. I would move to an area, get to know the locals, find out what was going on.” Seduce an enemy agent and, if necessary, kill him. But she wasn’t going to share that part.

“So you’re trained in self-defense and stuff?” Isabel asked.

Consuelo nodded. “I’ll be in charge of a lot of the training at CDS.”

Noelle looked confused for a second. “You mean the bodyguard school. That’s what we town folk call it.”

“Town folk?” Consuelo asked.

Noelle grinned. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m with her.” Isabel wrinkled her nose. “Town folk? What is this, the 1940s?” She looked at Consuelo. “You have the best abs. You probably work out, huh?”

Consuelo thought about the punching bag she’d spent an hour on that morning. “Most days.”

Isabel sighed. “I should work out. I think about it. I don’t suppose that counts.”

“Sincerity totally counts,” Noelle told her. “It’s all about attitude.”

“Sit-ups help, too,” Consuelo said drily.

Isabel smiled. “I seriously don’t see that happening, but you will be my inspiration.”

The woman from behind the bar walked over. She turned to Consuelo. “I’m Jo. We haven’t met.”

“Consuelo.”

“You’re with CDS,” Jo said, and chuckled. “For what it’s worth, both Angel and Ford are scared of you.”

“Good. That’s how I want things.”

“I can respect that.” She glanced at the nearly empty glasses. “Another round?” she asked.

“Yes,” Isabel said. “And chips and guacamole, and then we’ll talk about dinner.”

Jo wrote down their order and left.

Noelle picked up her margarita, then put it down. “Are you going to lecture us on not eating right?”

“No,” Consuelo said. “I’m going to order an extra bowl of chips.”

“We’re going to be such good friends.” Noelle sat up straighter. “I know. What if you taught an exercise class? Something like ‘exercise for the woefully out of shape’? I could do that. You’d make it fun.”

Isabel nodded. “I agree, although I’m painfully aware you’d also kick our butts. But I’m going to be thirty in a couple of years.”

Consuelo smiled, liking Isabel’s breezy personality. “You just said you weren’t interested in exercise.”

“I’m not, but I can be motivated by fear. Gravity is going to start making things move. At least that’s what my mother has always told me.”