Page 16 of A Charming Touch of Tarot (The Gin & Tarot Club #2)

16

Five of Pentacles

We’ve just arrived in Florida and our first order of business is to buy groceries, since we’ll be here for a week.

We’ve split up, each with our own list of items to grab.

I’ve just finished my list when I spot Nina in the produce section, eyes fixed on a cucumber. Her shoulders are slumped, and I don’t miss the way her hands shake.

Even from a distance, it’s clear she’s upset.

“Dammit,” I say under my breath.

I’ve only been away from her for fifteen minutes. What the hell could’ve happened in that short amount of time?

I lean over my shopping cart, swerving around people like a seasoned race car driver. Random shoppers call out greetings as if they know me. I offer a half-hearted wave to a few, but my focus is on getting to Nina.

As soon as she spots me, her demeanor shifts instantly, relief flooding her features. I’m overcome with the urge to pull her close, to offer comfort in the midst of whatever turmoil she’s facing. But I know drawing attention to her would only exacerbate the situation.

I tamp down the emotion swelling within me and put on my cheeriest face.

“Hey, Nins. What’s up with the cucumber?”

She looks down at the misshapen vegetable with contempt. “Nothing. I…” She stops mid-sentence, placing the cucumber in her small, black basket, glancing at the shelves once more. She grabs a package of celery before turning back to me.

“Since when do you cook with celery?” I ask, one corner of my lip tipped up.

She despises celery. Claims it lacks flavor and finds the crunchiness pointless. Nina gazes down at her hands, grimacing slightly before returning the package to the shelf. There’s a noticeable swallow, and I catch the subtle quiver of her bottom lip.

Lowering my voice even further, I edge a little closer. “Look at me. Take a deep breath.” She blinks repeatedly, then inhales and exhales, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. She appears calmer than she did just moments ago.

“What’s wrong?”

“Richard is contesting the divorce. My attorney just called.”

I see red, the need to throttle his smarmy ass so intense I’m practically choking on it.

“Can he do that?” I say a little too loud, drawing attention to us.

I’m sorry , I mouth to the elderly gentleman next to us. He offers a tight-lipped smile, going about his business.

“He can definitely draw it out and make the whole process miserable.” She shakes her head. “I’m not sure why I’m surprised.”

“While that’s not great news, it’s not the end of the world. We’ll fight this. I’ll be right by your side.”

She clears her throat, standing up straight and appearing more like Nina. “You’re right. We’re not going to talk about that man and his bullshit. We’re here to find Ian.”

“Let’s go,” I say, wrapping my arm under hers and steering my cart with one hand.

“What are we cooking tonight?” I ask, to get her mind off Richard’s antics.

“I don’t even know,” she says. “I haven’t gotten half of the things on my list.”

“Not a big deal,” I say. “Let’s make some lasagna and garlic bread.” I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. “Comfort night like we used to have in college.”

She snorts. “That happened like one time.”

I shrug. “Still happened. You helped me get over a devastating breakup by way of food. Let me comfort you in the same way.”

She smiles. “I’m not devastated about my divorce.”

“Obviously,” I say, making a face. “Good riddance.”

Nina chuckles, shaking her head. “Dinner sounds perfect.” She slows her pace a little bit, and I follow her lead. “I think tonight is a wine night. What do you think?”

“Of course it’s a wine night.”

She squeezes my arm. “Thank you, Ally. You don’t know how much I appreciate you.”

I smile, her words warming my heart. “I’m going to grab the ingredients we need and a couple bottles of wine.”

“I’ll get dessert,” she offers.

I clap my hands together, drawing the attention of an elderly woman currently inspecting the back of a jar of peanut butter.

“Perfect. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Nina turns around to head in the opposite direction, bumping right into someone. She screeches and jumps back as though the lady electrocuted her.

“Nina?”

My eyes narrow in on the petite woman, decked out in a neon tennis skirt and white tank.

Recognition dawns, and I realize it’s Jill Kincaid, a woman Nina and I went to college with.

Nina’s eyes are wide, and she rubs at her chest. “I…I’m fine.” Her head drops, shaking back and forth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you. What are you doing here?”

“It’s absolutely fine,” Jill says, placing a hand on Nina’s shoulder. “It sounded like you were hurt, if anything.”

Nina does a good job at trying to hide the wince, but I see it.

She saw something when they touched.

“No. No…it was just static,” she says, taking a step back and disconnecting herself from Jill. “I hope I didn’t zap you too.”

Jill waves a hand in the air. “I’m fine. It was my fault we collided. I’m hardly paying attention. I’m just coming from pickleball and I’m rushing around.”

“Pickleball,” Nina says, nose wrinkling.

“Well…yes. It’s the thing to do in The Communes.”

“Hi, Jill,” I say, approaching the pair.

Jill’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, Alyssa. How are you?”

“Fine. What a shock to see you here,” I admit. “It’s been ages.”

She bobs her head. “It has. I’ve lived here for the last ten years. My husband retired and wanted to move south.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “This place is a wet dream.”

Nina snorts, mumbling, “That’s one way to put it.”

“What was that?” Jill asks, leaning forward.

My eyes are trained in on Nina, wondering what her comment was about. Thankfully, Jill doesn’t seem to have heard her words.

“Sorry, nothing. I just…I’ve gotta get going. Just saw the time and realized we have places to be.”

Jill nods her head, glancing down at her fitness watch. “Me too, actually. Are you two in town for a few days?”

“Yes,” I say, and Nina shoots me a look, suggesting I should’ve kept that to myself.

“Fabulous. You two must join me tomorrow on the pickleball courts.”

I always liked Jill, and some exercise would be good for me.

“I’m in,” I say, glancing to Nina.

She shrugs, offering a close-lipped smile. “Sure. Why not.”

“Wonderful. Meet me at Rockwood Center at eleven.”

“We’ll be there,” Nina says, and Jill leaps forward and pulls her into a hug. “We have a lot of catching up to do, missy.”

Nina’s entire body stiffens, but I can’t see her face.

“I want to hear all about your life. I’m sure it’s been fab,” Jill says, glancing toward me, and my hand flies to my throat. There’s a tightness there.

It’s clear she doesn’t know a thing about Richard.

“Oh…it’s been fab,” Nina says, pulling out of Jill’s grip. “See you tomorrow.” Nina turns toward me. “I’ll finish up here and meet you at the front in five.”

And with that, she’s rushing off, leaving me standing in the middle of aisle five with Jill staring at me like someone stole her candy.

“How are you? Truly?” Jill asks. “I can’t imagine how hard things have been for you.”

Clearly Jill knows about Garrett, and she seems to care.

“It’s been tough, but I’m slowly transitioning to my new normal. Not easily, but one day at a time it’s improving.”

“I’m just so sorry.”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. It’s never easy encountering someone for the first time since Garrett’s passing.

“I appreciate it, Jill.”

“You ladies need to experience The Communes in all its glory. Let your hair down and party until everything closes down at nine.”

Laughter bubbles from her chest. “The after-hour parties are the best.” She winks, and I have to wonder what goes on at these after-hour parties.

“You look great, by the way,” she compliments, her smile widening as she glances down at my legs.

I fidget in place, feeling awkward.

What she’s seeing is a very well-designed pair of yoga pants that make me look like I lost five pounds instantly, as they suck everything in.

Ava bought them for me for Christmas, and I will be getting at least two additional pairs.

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” I reply, resisting the urge to divulge the secret behind my seemingly trim figure. I’m eager to steer the conversation away from this increasingly strange topic.

“We’ll make plans tomorrow. You girls have a good night,” she says, waving a hand in the air. “See you at eleven.”

She saunters away, her hips swaying in a manner that seems deliberately attention seeking. It’s classic Jill Kincaid—she’s always been a glory hound and total hell-raiser. Looks like not much has changed.

I shake off the discomfort caused by Jill’s overt appraisal of my body and head straight for the wine aisle. I grab three bottles, but then decide to grab another one.

We’re definitely going to need it.

“That was delicious,” I say, slumping back into the cream wingback chair, stuffed to an uncomfortable degree.

“It’s been a long while since I’ve had lasagna,” Nina comments, likely remembering all the times that her dipshit ex scolded her about her food choices. “The perfect comfort food.” She sighs contentedly.

We’ve enjoyed ourselves through dinner, keeping the conversation light, with me doing the bulk of the heavy lifting. I’ve caught her up on my time spent with Ava before she returned to school and the party that she claims nobody has stopped talking about.

“When is her spring showcase?” Nina asks, tapping her mouth with a red napkin.

“April, but I can’t remember the exact date off the top of my head.”

“That’s exciting. I bet hers will be the best.”

I smile, thinking about all the work she’s put into her project already. She hasn’t allowed me to see it, but she’s told me about every single hour spent piecing it together.

“It’s going to be quite the ordeal,” I say, wiping my mouth with my napkin. I set it on the table, prepared to shift the conversation to her.

“What happened back at the store with Jill? You clearly saw something you didn’t like.”

Nina takes a dainty sip of her merlot, licking her lips once she’s swallowed. “Caught that, did you?”

I tilt my head and smirk. “Spill the details,” I press, but she only chuckles, keeping her secrets.

My impatience shows as I make a face, hoping she gets the message. Eventually, she gives in, sighing and placing her hands in her lap.

“When I touched her…I saw a montage of her sleeping with half The Communes.” She clicks her tongue, squinting one eye. “Both men and women.”

I snort. “Awkward. Now you’re being subjected to X-rated peep shows? What kind of gift did you get cursed with?” I chuckle, but her lips are smashed into a thin line, signaling she doesn’t find any humor in it.

“Yeah…you’re right. It’s not funny. Sorry.”

She shrugs. “It’s her business. Not mine.” She clears her throat, leaning in as though to share a secret. “She’s into some pretty kinky things.”

I attempt, unsuccessfully, to stifle my laughter at Nina’s appalled expression.

“Kink shaming, Nina? I didn’t think you of all people would be so scandalized. You lived with Richard Dunbar, king of orgies back in the day.”

She grimaces. “That was before my time. And I’m not kink shaming. To each their own. I’m just saying that hers are a shade darker than what I’m accustomed to.”

My eyebrow lifts in question. “Just what are you used to?” I tease, watching her cheeks flush with color.

She shakes her head. “Not me personally. From movies.”

“Riiight,” I drawl, earning myself a severe scowl.

I raise my wineglass to my lips, observing her nose scrunching as she chews on her cheek. “I don’t think I could even bend my legs like that.”

I choke on the wine, spluttering as she looks on in confusion.

“Are you all right?” she asks.

I bob my head. “Yes, of course. I was just thinking how it doesn’t seem right that some women can bend themselves like pretzels while the rest of us are hardly able to bend at the hips.” I smirk and she smacks her lips together in pure irritation.

I suck on my teeth, thinking about Nina’s situation. What we need to determine is how this ability of hers works.

“How often is this happening? Is there anything that seems to trigger it?” I ask, watching her neck roll.

“It’s happening far more often than I’d like,” she admits. “When I touch someone, I typically see some thing.”

“Is everything you see bad?”

She’s quiet for several moments, seeming to contemplate my question. Likely by running through what she’s seen.

“Yes,” she finally says. “Even when I touched the professor and saw Ian’s mother, it was a vision of her being very sick.”

“We need to consult Natalia about this. She should have some insight. At least I hope so, for your sake.”

“In the meantime, I guess being a town outsider will have its perks after all. When people avoid you, it’s hard to touch them.”

I purse my lips, not liking the way Nina’s downplaying something that is clearly painful. It’s not like her, which I’m adding to my growing list of things to address.

“I know way too much about Knox Harbor and the people who live there. They’re all hiding things. Some darker than others.” She visibly shivers. “I do not want to know any of it.”

“Sounds to me like there are a lot of people throwing stones while living in glass houses around Knox Harbor,” I grumble. “Maybe the next time someone looks at you weird, you should go ahead and touch them. Let them know that they’re not as perfect as they like to pretend.”

She laughs. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should give them a taste of their own medicine.”

We both laugh, thinking about that scenario. It would certainly make things interesting around there, but it would also put more of a spotlight on Nina. They’d simply find a way to turn it around on her.

“But you won’t, because that’s not you,” I say, and she nods.

“I wish I had the nerve. I wish I wasn’t so scared of what people think of me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a good person. Don’t change who you are, Nina. Richard could make anyone bitter, but I don’t want to see you turn into that.”

“That’s the problem, Ally. I don’t even know who I am,” she says, slumped over the table. “I spent so many years putting on a front.” She huffs, shaking her head. “I’ve been wearing so many masks that when I look at myself in the mirror, it’s like I’m looking at a stranger. All the hopes and dreams I had growing up, I threw aside.”

I lean over my plate, getting as close to her as I can. “You keep telling me about how this is my second chance. Well, you have one too. You’re not stuck in this life, Nina. You can change your fate.”

“How?” She practically whispers the word, but I hear the way her voice breaks.

“One day at a time,” I say. “Make a list of non-negotiables. What is it you want out of life? What will you absolutely not put up with? Write it down, and every day commit to it.”

“That…sounds like a good idea.”

“Now…about tomorrow,” I say, remembering our plans to meet Jill. “Do you know anything about pickleball?”

She makes a disgruntled noise. “Not much. And for the record, this was all your doing. If this goes sideways, I’m blaming you.”

I smirk. “Deal. But what could go wrong with a game seemingly made for senior citizens?”

She shoots me a look that suggests a whole host of things could go sideways.

“Either way, you’d better be prepared, because I am not about to lose to Jill Kincaid.”

Their rivalry apparently lives on.