Me: You’re a genius, Hollis.
Hollis: Wow. Okay. Thanks.
I laugh as I race back through the house. My head spins so fast that I don’t know what to do first.
So, I do the first thing that comes to mind.
Me: Meadow, you’re fired.
Then I do the next thing that comes to mind. I call Holt.
“Hello?” he says.
“Hey, I need a favor …”
Twenty-Seven
Bellamy
“Well, this isn’t my best look.”
Brownie batter stains the front of my shirt. I wipe my finger between my boobs and scoop it off. Then, after considering that the shirt is freshly laundered, I shove my finger in my mouth.
There’s no sense in wasting good brownie batter.
The door squeaks open in the living room. I bend my neck to the side to see who it is.
“Hey,” Larissa says. “What are you—ooh, Bells. Let’s not.”
I pull my finger from my mouth. It makes a popping sound just as Boone comes around the corner.
“What?” I ask.
“That’s … a look,” Larissa says, making a face. She takes the bowl away from me, tugging at it when I try to resist. “Gimme.”
I pull it towards me pretty hard. When I release it, it sends Larissa stepping back a few paces.
I grin. “Serves you right.”
“Someone is hateful.” Boone sticks his finger in the bowl. “But this looks good.”
“You two are disgusting,” Larissa says.
Boone nods, licking the remnants off his hand. “Damn good.”
“Thank you,” I say, nodding back at him. “I didn’t use eggs, so that’s why it’s a little heavier than usual. Figured there’s no reason to torture myself with salmonella too.”
“I’ve seen the men you sleep with. Salmonella is the least of your concerns,” Larissa says, scraping the batter into the garbage disposal. “Now, go get yourself cleaned up.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I have to go to a couple of consultations today, and Hollis thinks I’m going to die,” Larissa says, looking at me over her shoulder. “I promised him I wouldn’t go alone.”
“Take Boone.”
“I’m going.” Boone looks unamused. “Not happy about it.”
“Then why do I have to go?”
Larissa sighs. “Because Boone can only go to the first one. So I need a rider for the second. And …”
“And she’s dropping me off at the office on the way back through,” he says.
“And that’s near the second stop.” Larissa dries her hands as she looks at me. “So, it makes no sense for me to drive across town to get you. Just come now.”
She looks pleased with herself.
“That just gave me a headache,” I tell her.
“But I need to be there in like twenty minutes,” she says. “So, hurry, please.”
I lean against the counter. “But what if I had plans today?”
“You don’t,” Larissa says.
“I did, but here I am,” Boone says with a sigh.
Larissa rolls her eyes. “Anyway, just hurry up so we can get this over with. Okay?”
“Fine.”
I pout as I walk to my room.
I intentionally avoid my bed just like I did last night when I slept on the couch. I might never sleep in it again.
Then I throw on some sweats and an oversized sweatshirt. Sneakers complete my cozy ensemble. I decide my messy bun looks messy, and that’s the actual definition of the updo, so I head back to my friends.
Boone laughs.
Larissa’s eyes go wide. “You could’ve … tried.”
“Excuse me? Are we going to a fashion show?” I hold my hands out to the side. “Either take me like this, or I’m turning on Bravo, and you can tell Hollis to buy you a GPS.”
“Why are you so difficult?” Larissa sighs. “Can you put on jeans?”
“I hope the Housewives are on,” I say, heading to the couch.
Boone chuckles and grabs the remote before I can. “You look fine. Let’s go, Riss, before we lose her to reality television.”
I pat him on the shoulder as I head for the door. “You’re a smart one, Boonie.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he mumbles.
We pile in Larissa’s car. I wave to the nurse that’s switching out shifts as we back out of the driveway.
The sun is bright for so late in the evening.
Larissa hits the highway, and we head out of town.
“What’s this design like?” I ask, using my hand as a visor.
“I’m not sure,” she says. “The first one is a … I have to modify my plan for a job I was hired for. It doesn’t fit the new requirements, and the owner wants something completely different. The second one is for class. I have to check out this old hotel and just sketch something for a grade. It’s not a big deal.”
“Sounds like the first one is a dick,” I say.
Boone laughs.
Larissa giggles too. “Not really. Just … specific. It needs to be perfect.”
“I was thinking today that I might see about being a realtor,” I tell them. “I enjoyed that the other day and I was pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.”
A song comes on the radio, and Boone turns it up. I could have a conversation with them if I almost shouted, but I don’t bother.
I rest my head against the window and think about Coy.
I should’ve texted him back today. It was wrong not to. But I just needed a little space before I reengage with him. Otherwise, Lord knows what I would do.
Probably get on a plane and head to Nashville.
The thought makes me smile, even though it’s impossible.
You told me that he’ll come back when you gave him your heart. You wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t deserve it.
He does deserve it. I deserve it too.
I toy with the phone in my hand and hover my thumb over his name. Every time I nearly go for it and text him, I wonder if he’s still in meetings. If Meadow got the images pulled. If they cleared up the rehab story. If the contract worked out. And then I pull my hand away and don’t text him at all.
He needs this time to get his life together. And I need to give him that.
Larissa flips on her turn signal, and I look up. Moss drapes off the branches of the trees on either side of the road.
I sit up.
“Hey,” I say, looking around. “This is that street we were on the other day.”
“Yeah,” Larissa says. “Bittersweet Court. Um, the first place we have to go—the one with the re-design, is the house you loved.”
“Didn’t they like your idea? Well,” I say, taking the blame, “I did spitball a bunch of stuff that day. I don’t have a clue about landscape design, but they seemed to like what I was suggesting, so I just went with it.”
Boone laughs. “Well, I guess you made some fucked-up suggestions, and now Riss has to go back out and get a better vision.”
“It was the kids thing,” she tells me, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “You brought up little kids, and now they want things to accommodate a whole gaggle of them.”