My sister’s hand slid to her butter knife. I reached to cover her fingers with my palm.
“Gene, if you don’t mind, we’re enjoying lunch. Or were,” I said. “And Vera’s bookstore’s specialty is romance novels, not pornography. Maybe if men read more romance, they’d understand women better.”
“I don’t need any help in that department.”
My sister snorted. “That’s not what your wife says.”
“Vera.” I shot her a warning look.
He stood and glared down at us. “You girls better watch yourselves and not steal any more jobs from me. It’s not like you need the money, with what your father left you. I’m doing a reality TV show about my trapping business, and I won’t have you interfering. And that’s why I really came over to talk to you.”
“Who would want to watch your ugly face on TV?” Vera retorted.
He smirked, which made me want to throat-punch him. “Plenty of people. And I’m hearing that the producers of the show have asked you two to participate. Probably because they want some eye candy on the show.”
I pressed my back into the chair and looked at my sister with wide eyes. Show? What show? This was the first I’d heard of it.
Vera swallowed hard and evaded my gaze. She turned to Gene and calmly said, “Maggie doesn’t know if she’ll be participating. The producers only contacted me yesterday, and we haven’t had a chance to talk about it. It’s not our top priority. We’re busy women.”
Yesterday?I wanted to scream. Why hadn’t she said something about it then? Trapping was my business! And she had the nerve to call me a control freak. Sheesh.
My suspicions that Vera was keeping secrets from me were well founded, apparently.
I kept my mouth shut and glared at Gene.
“I don’t care what they asked you girls. I’m warning you. Stay away from my gators and my TV show. This is my town now, and I’m the star of the show.”
“Is that a threat?” I asked. Anything that Gene wanted us to do, I was against, so perhaps I’d think about going on the TV program in a bikini with sparklers shooting off my tits. All to spite that shitgibbon sitting next to me.
“Yes, it most certainly is,” Gene barked. The café turned quiet, and I sensed several pairs of eyes on our table. I rubbed the back of my neck and noticed that Tyler Carr was taking a particular interest in us.
“Well, I guess we’ll give up because a man asked us to,” Vera scoffed, then followed up with a whispered, “slimeball.”
I widened my eyes, imploring my sister not to escalate the situation. I snickered nervously. I couldn’t help it—I sometimes laughed when I was stressed, a defense mechanism whenever I felt particularly uncomfortable. This trait hadn’t done me any favors, like how I’d chuckled heartily when I gave my notice at my job in Boston. Or when I’d broken up with my on-again, off-again boyfriend.
“Trapping ain’t a woman’s business,” he yelled.
OK, now he’d gone too far, and I hooted aloud, throwing back my head for effect. My sister and I had been working with gators since we were kids, and learned from not only our dad, but our grandparents as well. Hell, our granny had been all of five feet tall and she could wrestle an alligator in no time. I smacked my hand against the table.
“Gene, this conversation’s over. If you don’t leave, we’re going to have to get the cops involved. I won’t hesitate to get a restraining order against you. Now let us eat in peace.”
“Who’s threatening who now?” He shot me a menacing look for three long seconds, then he stood, turned on his heel, and stalked out of the restaurant, elbowing a woman out of the way.
Vera and I exhaled in tandem. She pushed her plate away. “So much for my appetite. Jeez, I despise that man.”
I studied her without blinking. “When were you going to tell me about the TV show? Why did you get the call, and not me?”
She waved me away. “The producer stopped by the store yesterday. He was filming downtown and had heard about Dad, and our family. Someone told him about the bookstore. I knew you wouldn’t be interested, so I didn’t bother telling you.”
“How do you know I wouldn’t be interested?”
“Because you hate reality TV.”
“That’s because you watch the gross shows likeZit Zappers. I don’t hate all reality TV. You know I like that one show about the naked people in the jungle.”
And that was only because that one dude’s butt was nice to look at. At night, I sometimes fantasized about the two of us taking a steamy trip to Pleasureville under the moonlight on a deserted beach.
“What was the proposal?”