Pure Connections

Chapter 5

      Lisa plopped onto her all-white sofa and inspected her handiwork.

      The open kitchen, dining and living room area was immaculate from the organized shelves in the refrigerator to the plush beige rug beneath her feet. She leaned forward to adjust the pair of unlit scented candles set atop the wooden tray that accompanied the tufted coffee table, reminding herself for the third time in twenty minutes that she was not stress cleaning. Jennie would be there any minute, and her upbringing dictated that everything be spotless whenever guests were expected. Not that the loft hadn't been irreproachable three days ago when Lisa had checked in, but after sharing it with Maya all weekend, a light cleaning had been necessary. Her sister was a lot of things, brilliant for one, but tidy was not one of them. The last thing Lisa needed was for Jennie to slip on the pair of pajama shorts Maya had somehow missed in the bedroom's entryway when she'd left last night. Especially not in the pair of stilettos Jennie had been wearing when they'd met up earlier today.

      As Lisa mulled over it on the drive home, her subconscious had screamed that this was at least two-thirds a terrible idea, but rescinding her offer for Jennie to stay wasn't an option. At least not one she wanted to explore.

      Jennie had accepted staying with Lisa over her friends and family. She'd stared and bantered, and she'd accepted.

      And Lis had made herself too fucking available. Had she even given Jennie a proper out?

      She fell back against the chair, pressing her thumb and forefinger to her eyes. "Shit." The rhythm of "Side Effects" boomed from the loft speakers, only to be interrupted by an incoming message. Blake Sterling says: Did you neglect to mention that lunch was three hours long, or are you busy losing the dignity you promised you'd come back with? Because only one of those scenarios seems likely.
     
      Lisa's eyes rolled toward the exposed pipes fixed to the ceiling as one hand fumbled across the sofa for her phone. When the cool hard surface of her screen emerged beneath her fingertips, she brought the phone closer and tapped out a reply: Sorry, B. Change of plans. Will explain later. Did you finish your piece?

      She expected a swift, probing reply—after everything she'd told him earlier, Blake would not let things go with a simple change of plans. She even expected some swearing, and when her phone rang, maybe a part of her had anticipated that too. What she hadn't predicted was for the incoming call to be from her mom, who she hadn't spoken to since...

      She rubbed her forehead.

      Christmas, when Mom had spiked the eggnog because, "Eggnog's not eggnog without a little rum."

      Lisa's chest tightened at the memory—her trying to take the flask, Mom resisting until they'd both crashed into the dining table and knocked off half the meal, how Maya had narrowed her eyes and shaken her head at Lisa like she was the one to blame.

      The ringing stopped, then instantly started again, this time prompting her to hit the answer button with a huff. "Hi, Mom."

      "Priya, baby, it's been too long."

      Lisa drew in a deep breath and held it. Mom only ever used this shortened version of her middle name when she wanted something or had consumed enough bourbon to leave her somewhere between affectionate and saccharine. "You know I don't like it when you call me that."

      "Pranpriya is a beautiful name."

      "And Priya makes me sound like a headliner at a strip club."

      "Don't be crass, Pranpriya," Mom's tone turned scolding. "Anyway, there's nothing wrong with that line of work."

      "I didn't say there was." Lisa sneered, the rug beneath her feet absorbing her insistent tapping of one foot. Leave it to Mom to resurrect the habit she'd been trying to kick all year. "What's up, Mom? Is everything okay?"