Not just a waitress, then. Bria hopped off her stool, and the two women shared a long, tight hug. Callie drew back, holding Bria at arm’s length, and I got my first good look at my sister’s best friend.
Callie Reyes was a petite woman with a curvy body that looked strong and sexy at the same time. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek French braid and was such a dark brown that it almost looked black underneath the lights. Her skin had a lovely golden tint to it, while her gray-green eyes glittered with warmth, confidence, and intelligence. All put together, she was a beautiful woman, despite the simple white T-shirt and khaki cargo pants that she wore underneath a long blue work apron. I eyed the well-worn cotton. It could have been a twin to the aprons that I always wore at the Pork Pit, right down to the grease stains that covered the front of it.
Bria gave her friend a critical once-over, then sighed and shook her head. “You’re just as gorgeous as ever.”
Callie smiled and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re one to talk, blondie. I remember how crazy you used to make the boys back in high school and then in college too.”
The two friends started talking, their words mixing and overlapping as they gossiped about all the boys they had dated and all the other people they knew in Blue Marsh and beyond. It only took a second for me to see just how much the two of them cared about each other, just how close they were. Hell, they even finished each other’s sentences.
“Do you remember that time that the Loudon twins—” Callie started.
“Asked us to go to the senior prom with them?” Bria chimed in. “Of course! Best double date of my life, despite the fact that they wore those awful powder blue tuxedos.”
They looked at each other, smiled, and laughed.
I sat on my stool feeling awkward and out of place. Three really was a crowd in this case.
“Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I almost forgot. Let me see that rock on your ring finger,” Bria said, grabbing Callie’s hand and holding it up to the light. “It’s massive!”
Callie laughed and fluttered her fingers, making the not-so-small square-cut diamond on her left hand sparkle. “I told you that I’ve been busy since you left town. You were the first person I called after I got engaged last week.”
“You know that I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Bria squeezed her friend’s hand. “I’m so thrilled for you.”
“Thanks. I’ve never been happier.”
Callie finally noticed me watching them, and her eyes flicked from me to Bria and back again. “Hey, who’s your friend?”
Friend? Bria and Callie talked all the time, from what my sister said. Surely, Bria had told her about me—right?
Bria hesitated. She sat back down on her stool to buy herself a few more seconds to answer, and I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind as she decided exactly what to say about me. “This is Gin, my . . . sister.”
Callie frowned. “But I thought that all your family was dead. Your foster parents and your birth family.”
Bria gave her a tight smile. “I did too, until a few months ago. Things have . . . changed since then.”
Well, I supposed that was one way of putting it. I stared at Bria, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes.
The seconds ticked by, with only the conversation of the other diners and the clatter of their dishes to fill in the silence. When it became obvious that Bria wasn’t going to offer any more explanation about who I was and where I’d come from, Callie cleared her throat and held out her hand to me.
“Please forgive me for being rude and not introducing myself. Callie Reyes.”
“Gin Blanco.” I shook her hand. She had a strong grip, and her fingers were warm from the heat of the kitchen.
“Gin?” she asked.
I held up my gin and tonic and shook the glass, rattling the ice cubes and slice of lime inside. “Gin. Like the liquor.”
“I see. So what do you do, Gin? Are you a cop like Bria is?”
Bria gasped and choked on the hush puppy that she’d just popped into her mouth. She made a few strangled sounds before she was able to swallow. Looked like my nighttime activities were something else Bria hadn’t told her best friend about.
Callie frowned. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”
“No, I’m fine,” Bria wheezed, taking a sip of her mojito. “Just fine.”
Her lips tightened, and she sat up straight on her stool, tension gathering in her shoulders. She didn’t look at me, even though I was right next to her.
For the first time, I realized that my sister was actually embarrassed by me—ashamed, even. Well, not by me exactly, but by the fact that I was the Spider. That I was an assassin. That I’d killed as many people as she’d arrested as a cop. Sure, I still killed people, but usually only to protect my friends, family, or myself. I didn’t slice and dice for money anymore. No, these days, the only jobs I occasionally took on were for good, decent folks who had problems that no one else could solve. With Mab’s death, I thought that Bria and I had finally moved beyond my bloody past.
Apparently not.
“Actually, I run a restaurant just like you do,” I said, finally answering Callie’s question. “The Pork Pit, serving up the best barbecue in Ashland.”
The other woman grinned at me. “Well, it’s not barbecue, but I hope that you’ll find the food here to your liking.”
My smile was as cold and brittle as hers was warm and friendly. “Oh, I always like to see what the competition’s up to.”
Callie knew a half-assed insult when she heard one, and the grin slowly faded from her face. I had to stop myself from wincing. I didn’t often let my emotions get the best of me, but I sounded like a petty, jealous bitch, and I was acting like one too.
“Well, I hope you enjoy your meal,” Callie said in a fainter voice. “I’ve got to get back to the kitchen. You know how it is. Bria, I’ll be back just as soon as I get a break. Don’t even think about leaving until we catch up on everything that you’ve been up to in Ashland—and I do mean everything.”
Callie stared at me once more before turning, pushing through the swinging doors, and disappearing into the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight, Bria glared at me.
“What is wrong with you?” she hissed. “That was my friend, my very best friend, and you were rude to her, Gin. Extremely rude. You know how much Callie means to me, how she’s like a sister to me.”
Yeah, the sweet, perfect sister that I’m not, I thought. The sister that you wish I was. But I didn’t say the words or tell Bria how much it hurt to see them together, how much it hurt to hear her defend Callie in a way that she had never defended me.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
Bria glared at me another second before picking up her fork. Her hands tightened around the silverware as if she wanted to use it to stab me instead of her shrimp scampi. It took her a moment to unclench her fingers enough to start eating.
I just sighed, wondering if everyone had as much fun on vacation as we were having.
All around us, the other diners laughed and talked and joked over their meals, but Bria and I ate in silence, with only the scrape of our forks and knives on the plates to break the ugly, icy quiet between us.
At least the food was excellent, just like my sister had claimed it would be. The perfectly grilled Jamaican chicken had a wonderful jerk seasoning that was just the right blend of spicy and savory and was topped with a kiwi-mango salsa sweetened with honey. The poppyseed bun was homemade and still warm from the oven, while the sweet potato fries were crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. It was one of the best meals I’d ever had that I hadn’t cooked myself.