Charming. Seriously, do people in their twenties use that word in conversation? I mean, I had a large vocabulary and used words no one else did, but charming just seemed pretentious. I cocked my head and studied her, trying to see what he saw in her.

She kept talking in her dulcet tones. “By the way, it’s Tiffani-with-an-i,” she said, giving us a smile that showcased her dimples. Gag.

As she chatted about her own years in high school, I did the calculations in my head and figured she was only three or four years older than me. I glared at Leo. This was the kind of girl he went for: fake with big tits?

He finally glanced at me, his eyes scanning over my skimpy dress and when he raked both hands through his blond hair furiously, I knew he was fuming about something. I shrugged and took a page from the stupid girl book and flicked my hair over my shoulder.

“Leo,” Tiffani-with-an-i purred, running her hand possessively across his shoulder and down to his bicep, “you’ve got to tell me what machines you use to get this defined. You feel so hard,” she told him teasingly and glanced over at me with a smug look. I looked back in confusion, not understanding her sudden animosity.

She pouted at Leo. “But I only want you to show me how to use them, not one of those mean trainers I’ve seen,” she said, shuddering theatrically.

“Tiffani here is a big fan of astrology,” Sebastian stated suddenly, his mouth twitching. “She’s getting an online license to be an accredited astrological consultant.”

“What like a psychic?” Mila scoffed. “Is that a real thing?”

Tiffani-with-an-i sniffed. “For your information, tarot cards are a science, and I can tell the future.”

“All for nineteen ninety-nine per minute,” Sebastian muttered under his breath, and I covered my laugh with a cough. Mila patted me on the back.

“Hey, aren’t you Ellen Blakely’s daughter, from Good Morning, Dallas?” she asked, her eyes squinting at me.

I stiffened. “Yes.”

“I knew it! I worked with your mother once when she did a cooking segment, and I got to make my spinach quiches on her show! She’s classy, absolutely divine.” She smirked, her eyes flashing over my dress. “Funny that you look nothing like her.”

“Yes.” Thank God.

“You were there that day,” she said as she shook her finger at me, “but I almost didn’t recognize you with the red hair. And, wow, you were a bit of a chunk then, no offense. How much weight did you lose?”

“I just got taller,” I said politely.

“Sorry if that came out all wrong,” she said in a sugary voice. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings?”

I laughed. Fat chance. She’d hurt me enough just by being with Leo. “No, I did have a big butt. I had buck teeth and braces, too,” I said as Sebastian started singing Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back.” I reached over and popped him in the arm while he laughed and tried to get away.

When Mila grinned at Tiffani-with-an-i with a sly gleam in her eye, I knew her fur had been rubbed the wrong way by Tiffani’s comments. She was going to bite back. “Speaking of being classy, Nora would never tell you herself, but she won the Miss Texas Rose pageant last fall. I saw the whole thing. Big honking diamante crown on her head, and a big-ass sash over her shoulder. It was sweeeet.”

Sebastian’s mouth gaped. “No way. Nora’s no pageant princess.”

I shrugged, not sure what to say.

Sebastian grinned. “Are you going to be in the Miss America pageant because that would be kinda cool. You’d be famous. Which reminds me: do you really glue the bottoms of your swim suit to your ass cheeks? You know, so it doesn’t move?”

They all turned to stare at me, and Leo had the strangest expression on his face, and it frightened me because I couldn’t interpret it. I hated the thought of him thinking I liked pageants. I didn’t want him thinking I needed people constantly telling me I was pretty. I knew I wasn’t.

My pageant experience didn’t start when I was a child, like those freaky kids you see on Toddlers and Tiaras, who tap dance in cowboy gear to “I’m Bringing Sexy Back.” No, I was fat then and a total embarrassment to Mother. Instead, I’d have been a shoo-in for the dreaded title of Best Personality.

But, when I was sixteen and finally slim, she’d suggested pageants. I’d done them to please her, reasoning that if other people thought I was pretty and loved me, then maybe she would, too.

I cleared my throat and looked at Leo and Sebastian. “Before you judge—little pun there—let me explain that in Texas, big hair and pageants are part of our heritage. And, I only won because of my piano talent. Those girls I competed against were beautiful and way out of my league.”

Tiffani-with-an-i shook her head as her eyes ran over me. “I just can’t see it.”

“I can see it,” Leo said softly.

Tiffani-with-an-i’s face tightened, but she kept talking. “Your mom talked non-stop about her son in Houston. Does he still live there? She liked me so well she wanted to set us up on a date, but of course, we don’t live in the same town,” she said with a little giggle.

“No . . . no, he lives in Houston, but he’s moving back at Christmas.”

“Oh. Tell your mother hello for me, will you? I’d love to meet up with her for lunch. Maybe I could get another spot on her show?” she said, her little piggy fingers rubbing Leo’s arm.

He smiled down at her. “Would you guys like some soda or water before you go?” he asked, looking back at us, and while Mila and Sebastian said no, I flicked my eyes at Tiffani-with-an-i’s wine glass.

Alcohol was just a party away.

He followed my eyes. “No alcohol tonight, Nora.”

Anger seared through me. He was not my father.

Sebastian chuckled, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “No problem, bro. These two hot babes are my dates, and I have a rep for taking care of my ladies.”

Hurt by Leo’s comment, I excused myself and went to the bathroom, mentally reciting words that helped me the most, repeating the definition and etymology. When that didn’t seem to work like it usually did, I opened my purse and stared at the coke I still had there. What would it be like to take it again? Would it make me feel good inside?

Maybe later tonight.

Leo was waiting for me when I came out of the bathroom. He grabbed my elbow firmly, steered me back inside, and locked the door.