Twelve
T he sound of a growly engine pierced the silence of the afternoon and Rheo flew to the study’s bay window. Fletch was back! Kneeling on the seat, she felt her heart sink as she watched an F-150 trundle past the Pink House and turn left at the T-junction.
Rheo sat on the window seat and stared at the hardwood floor, cursing her burning eyes. Where was Fletch? She’d thought he would be in and out of Portland, but this was day four and he was ignoring her messages. They’d never really defined their relationship, discussed what they were becoming to each other, but didn’t she deserve just one “not sure of my plans, will be back when it suits” message?
Damn it! She would not slide back into that mental morass of second-guessing and overanalyzing herself. She was better than this! She wasn’t someone who stressed about where her lover was, who spent hours thinking about what he was doing.
Or, God, who he was doing.
On those all too rare occasions when Callum told her he couldn’t see her because of work pressures, she’d relished the freedom of uninterrupted time. She’d enjoyed her first Fletch-free day but missed him that night. Then missing turned to longing, and doubts and insecurity steamrolled her.
What was he doing in Portland? Was he sleeping with someone else? They hadn’t made any promises to be exclusive.
But the truth was, part of her wanted to be exclusive.
She was in love with the man.
The realization hit her the second night she spent alone in her bed. She wanted to sleep with Fletch for the rest of her life.
He was the only person she would make sacrifices for. She didn’t have a clue how to reconcile their vastly different lives, didn’t have the faintest idea where to start or what a life spent together would look like, but she knew she wanted to try.
Her happiness simply lay with Fletch.
But judging by his lack of contact, his future didn’t include her. And, God, it hurt more than anything else she’d felt since losing everything.
A rattling, vaguely familiar sound drifted through the open window, and Rheo looked down. A battered van braked in front of the house, announcing its arrival with a high-pitched squeal. She hadn’t seen the van for over ten years, but it looked exactly the same, a faded powder blue as familiar as her signature. They hadn’t fixed the ding above the tire, nor the long scratch on the driver’s door.
Jesus Christ, her parents were here.
What the crap were they doing here?
Rheo ran into the hall and skidded on the smooth floor. She yanked open the front door and flew down the steps, cursing when one of Paddy’s iceberg rosebushes snagged her shirt. She wrenched it free and passed through the gate leading to the sidewalk, reaching the van as her dad stepped out. She braked, not sure how to greet him. They’d never been touchy-feely types. Her dad took that decision out of her hands, pulling her into a brief, hard hug. Gulping, Rheo turned to kiss her mom’s cheek, inhaling her wild sage perfume. Rheo lowered her head and noticed the familiar rings on her mom’s big and baby toes, the intricate tattoo covering the top of her right foot.
Her parents were here...
Yes, they infuriated her, she didn’t understand them, but it was still good to see them.
“And me? Don’t I get a hug?”
Rheo’s eyes widened as her cousin stepped onto the pavement, a vision of tanned skin, blond hair, and bright green eyes in a happy face.
The gang was all here...
Right. Well...
Okay then.
Carrying her cousin’s backpack, Rheo followed Carrie to the room she always used, the smaller one at the back of the house. Rheo threw her pack onto the bed, still covered by a quilt that Grandma Jean, her mom’s mom, made for Carrie’s tenth birthday. Rheo had been gifted one too, but hers was in storage back in Brooklyn. Because she’d put the quilt into a plastic bag and kept it away from sunlight, it was brighter than Carrie’s. But her cousin’s seemed warmer, lovelier somehow, despite its faded squares. More interesting.
It was an apt metaphor for their lives. Hers was shiny and bright, but Carrie’s was way more interesting.
Carrie flopped backward onto her bed, and Rheo perched on the edge of a wingback chair, confused. “Okay, explain again...why are you all here?” she demanded.
Carrie leaned back on her elbows and shook her head to move her hair off her face. “Your parents drove here from Houston—”
“Texas?”
“Houston, British Columbia,” Carrie corrected her. “They came because they sensed a thaw in your attitude, and they wanted to capitalize on it. It’s also a good time for them to return to Gilmartin, because Paddy is halfway across the world.”
Rheo ran her fingers across her forehead, trying to take it all in.
“I’m here because I told Fletch I would be. Your parents said they’d pick me up if I flew into Seattle, so I did. I hope we can spend some quality time together...if you can yank the stick out of your ass.”
Rheo frowned at her. “What stick?”
“The I’m-so-better-than-you-I’ve-got-life-sorted stick,” Carrie told her.
Rheo wanted to retaliate, but her hot words died in her throat. She bit her lip, forcing herself to admit that she could sound prissy and pretentious. She echoed Paddy, and took her cues from her grandmother, never stopping to consider her family’s feelings. That ended, today. Right now.
“I’m not better than you, and I don’t have my life sorted,” Rheo murmured.
Carrie flashed her megawatt smile. “Good girl. Where is Fletch?” she demanded, sitting up to tackle the buckle on her sandals.
“Currently, he’s in Portland,” Rheo told her, blinking at the change of subject.
“When is he back?”
“I have no idea,” she answered, unable to keep the frost out of her voice. Had he forgotten how to use the damn phone? Were his fingers broken?
“Ooh, you look pissed off.” Carrie tossed a sandal in the general direction of the cupboard. “What has he done?”
Rheo might as well share—she wouldn’t be able to keep their affair secret now that the Pink House was full of her family. Nor did she want to. She wanted Carrie to know she and Fletch were together...that Fletch was attracted to her.
Ego again, Whitlock? When are you going to stop feeling second best?
“We’re sleeping together.”
Carrie’s green eyes narrowed in concern. For her or for Fletch? Probably for Fletch. They were far closer than Rheo and Carrie were.
“He went to Portland, and I have no idea when he’s coming back. He hasn’t called or texted,” Rheo added, shoving her hands into her hair. “I thought there was...” Her words trailed away, and she lifted her shoulders to her ears. Was she reading too much into this? Creating something out of nothing? They’d never agreed on a relationship...
“Oh, God, Rhee, I hope you’re not falling for him,” Carrie said, sounding appalled. “He’s an awesome guy, one of my best friends, but he’s the definition of unavailable. He’s emotionally distant and solitary. And his work—work that takes him away from civilization for the best part of the year—is his life.”
She wasn’t telling Rheo anything new. And still the words felt like a punch to her head and a kick to her kidneys.
Carrie scooted forward and laid her hand on Rheo’s clenched fist. Carrie waited for Rheo’s eyes to meet hers. “He’s not your type, Rhee, you are not his . And, no, I’m not jealous, nor do I want him myself. I’m saying it because he’s a good friend and you’re my cousin, and I know you both. You are oil and water, ice and heat...you don’t work together.”
Rheo pulled her top lip between her teeth and furiously blinked, trying to dispel the tears threatening to fall.
“I’m not trying to be a bitch,” Carrie quietly assured her. “I’m really not, Rhee. I just don’t want you to get hurt. We might not be close, and this might be the first time we’ve spoken in ages, but you are part of the fabric of my life.”
Rheo managed a small smile at Carrie’s earnest face. Her cousin still called a situation exactly how it was and, of the two of them, she knew Fletch best.
He wasn’t into Rheo emotionally...
Shit.
Needing to be alone, Rheo stood and handed Carrie a watery smile. “It’s good to see you, Carrie.”
And it was. As she’d said, Carrie was part of the fabric of her life, a brightly colored patchwork square.
“Be honest, you’d far prefer me to stay away so you wouldn’t have to face the truth.”
Rheo shook her head. “No, my days of shoving my head in the sand are over.” She folded her arms and rocked on her heels. “I need to think about my return to work, and I have to tackle Paddy.”
Carrie grimaced. “Better you than me.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Rheo gestured to the door. “I should go see if the parents have settled in.”
“Don’t bother,” Carrie told her, lifting her suitcase onto the bed. “They told me they want to sleep in the van, and they’ll use the downstairs bathroom.”
“How long are they staying?” Rheo asked. While she and her parents had declared a truce, she knew the three of them got along far better when many, many miles separated them. International borders were good, and continents between them better.
Carrie grinned. “Dunno! But it could always be worse...”
Rheo lifted her eyebrows. “How?”
“Paddy could fly in from Oz.”
“?Estoy de un humor que mejor ni te cuento!”
“Translation?” Carrie asked.
Rheo shrugged. “I’m in a mood, not happy...something like that.”
“Ah, so...situation normal then?”
On the way out the door, Rheo picked up her cousin’s sandal and lobbed it in the general direction of Carrie’s head. When Carrie’s laughter followed her onto the landing, she cursed her inability to hit anything more than three feet away.
Fletch’s lips curved into a smile when he saw Carrie’s incoming video call. “Hey, you! Where are you—”
Instead of smiling at him, Carrie’s arched eyebrows pulled together in a fierce frown. “I’m in Gilmartin, jerk head, and you aren’t here!”
Sitting in a busy coffee shop with Seb, Fletch winced. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve made sure I was back by the time you arrived.”
Fletch half turned his phone to show Seb Carrie’s face, and Seb rolled his eyes. His best friend wasn’t one of Carrie’s fans. He had no idea why.
“Why haven’t you told Rheo where you are and when you will be back?” Carrie demanded, with her usual in-your-face verve.
That was his business, and he didn’t answer to Carrie, as he informed her. He took her off the video call and put the phone to his ear to ensure their conversation stayed private.
“Oh, bullshit, Fletch! She’s my cousin. She’s not a woman you can pick up and discard at the drop of a hat. You’ve spent the last six weeks with her. She’s entitled to a little courtesy from you.”
Her words held enough truth that shame, close to the surface whenever he thought about Rheo, swamped him. Carrie was right. Not contacting Rheo and ignoring her was a dick move. But Carrie didn’t understand that Rheo was very different from anyone he’d met before. He couldn’t just take little bites out of her, he wanted to gulp and devour. He wanted everything .
But everything was impossible.
“Well?” Carrie demanded.
“I’m not discussing my relationship with Rheo with you, Carrie,” Fletch told her, lowering his voice. If he couldn’t talk to Rheo, then he had no right discussing her with Carrie.
“Fair enough,” Carrie conceded. “But can I tell you something about my cousin, Fletch?”
He didn’t need any insights from Carrie. He’d messed up; he didn’t need her sticking her nose in. Carrie, being bold and pushy, didn’t wait for an answer to her question.
“She’s got this huge brain, Fletch, but she’s sensitive, far more than you’d believe. She thinks she’s a hard-ass like Paddy, but she’s not. She’s so much nicer than our grandmother. When Rheo gives someone her time and attention, she becomes emotionally invested.”
“We never—” Fletch said, stopping abruptly.
“Yeah, maybe she thought she could handle a fuck buddy situation. But she can’t. Her feelings get involved. She would never have slept with you unless she felt something!”
And how was he supposed to know that? And why was this his fault?
Carrie answered his questions. “She’s lonely, Fletch. She might not accept that, might not even know she is, but she’s always been lonely, from the time she was little. She thinks she doesn’t need people, but she does . Unfortunately, she’s always chosen romantic relationships she can easily walk away from, men who don’t touch her emotionally.”
Fletch frowned, caught in an emotional squall. “What do you want me to do, Carrie? What can I do?”
She might not recognize it, but his was a genuine appeal for help. He couldn’t have a relationship with Rheo, but he didn’t want to let her go. He definitely didn’t want to hurt her. Not sure which way to jump, he’d left Gilmartin, hoping the problem would resolve itself.
Another dick move.
“If you don’t see this going anywhere, tell her. If you think it can, tell her. Do not ignore her texts, dick biscuit.”
He winced. Carrie disconnected and Fletch lowered his phone, staring at the blank screen. He now had two Whitlock women pissed off with him. Excellent.
He met Seb’s eyes and grimaced.
“Maybe I shouldn’t come to Gilmartin with you,” Seb said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Seb was as allergic to emotional scenes as Fletch was, but he wasn’t going to let his friend back out now. “You are coming to Gilmartin with me, and we are going to hike and climb and spend time on the lake. Or does being around Carrie scare you that much?”
Seb shocked him by nodding. “She does,” he replied.
And Fletch, knowing how tough Seb was, wondered what the hell Carrie had done to him.
Abi placed the steaming casserole on the kitchen table and dropped a kiss on Rheo’s head. “I’m going to leave you now. You guys need to catch up.”
Rheo spun around in her seat and sent her a don’t leave me look. Abi had saved her life today when Rheo sent her a frantic text, informing her that her parents had arrived and that her fridge and pantry were empty. Abi arrived with dinner, bags of produce, and enough wine to float a battleship. Or, at the very least, a small canoe.
“Join us, Abs,” Rheo implored. With Abi there, she wouldn’t feel left out when their conversation turned to whether Yosemite was better than Yellowstone, or Huntington Beach was a better surf spot than Cocoa Beach.
Her parents and Carrie chimed in, asking her to stay. Abi wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “I’ll join you another time.”
Rheo walked Abi to her car and, in the driveway, hugged her again. “Thank you so much, Abs. I’m so grateful to have you in my life.”
Abi squeezed her hand. “You look shattered, Rhee.”
Rheo pushed her hand into her hair and dragged it away from her face. “I am. It’s been a day. I expected Carrie to arrive at some point, but I never expected my parents to visit.”
Abi swung her car key around her index finger. “Still nothing from Fletch?” she gently asked.
Rheo pursed her lips. “No.”
Abi grimaced. “Ouch.” She frowned and snapped her fist around her keys. “He hasn’t taken his stuff, has he?”
No, she’d checked.
“Well, maybe there’s a good explanation for why he hasn’t contacted you.”
“And maybe it’s his way of reminding me I have no claim on his time, nor do I have a right to know where he is or what his movements are,” Rheo snapped.
“Or that,” Abi agreed.
Damn, not the response she’d hoped for.
She wanted Abi to tell her he’d lost her number or he was busy or give her a stupid-ass excuse for him not calling. But because Abi was brutally honest, she gave it to Rheo straight. Fletch, the asshole, was avoiding her.
Returning to the house, Rheo slipped into her chair opposite her dad and, despite not being hungry, spooned food onto her plate. She hadn’t eaten today. Food, even Abi’s, held no interest for her.
Rheo pushed her food around, half listening to Carrie recounting her hike up an active Balinese volcano and her parents discussing the death of a rock climber in Yosemite.
“Well, if you climb without ropes, what the hell can you expect?” Rheo snapped, after listening to their mournful comments about how sad it was and how only the good die young.
Her mom broke the uncomfortable silence. “He didn’t die soloing. He died from double pneumonia after a bout of flu.”
“Oh.”
Right, she’d grabbed the wrong end of that stick. Rheo placed her elbow on the table and rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. She was emotionally and physically wiped out. She wanted to go to bed, but knew she would spend another night watching the shadows on the ceiling. She couldn’t concentrate enough to read, and her mind tumbled from Fletch to work and back to Fletch.
Neither subject was easy to think through. Was she ready to go back to the UN? And if she wasn’t, what else could she do? Would she ever sleep with Fletch again? Even see him again? No, that was silly—she’d speak to him soon, but it was doubtful they’d go back to what they were before. Whatever that had been.
She hated this, hated not knowing where she stood. This was why she should’ve kept her emotional distance and stayed uninvolved. The sex they shared was great, amazing, but was it worth all these What’s happening? and I’m so confused thoughts?
Gail’s hand on her arm pulled Rheo’s attention back to the table and her uneaten food. “So, tell us everything that happened, Rhee. I suspect you left lots out when we last spoke.”
Yeah, she did. Because she didn’t want them to know about her fall from grace. But should it matter? These people gave her life. She could keep her pride, or she could take some steps toward having a closer, more truthful relationship with them. Her pride and ego wanted to keep her mistakes under wraps—she didn’t want to admit to failing. But wasn’t failing how one learned? And she was so tired of trying to get it all right. Frankly, chasing perfection was exhausting.
Rheo pushed her plate away, skimming over her and Callum’s breakup—it didn’t hurt, they were still friends—and the events before and after the viral video. All three looked horrified when she told them severe stress led to her losing her words.
“I’ve lost my confidence, and I need it to do my job,” Rheo admitted. “I’ve done a lot of training videos, but I will only know whether I can handle it when I’m in a high-pressure situation.”
“But you’re better than you were?” Carrie asked, topping off their wine.
Rheo considered her question. “Much. Something clicked when I translated for the Brazilian kayakers—long story—and from then, it hasn’t been so hard. But I don’t know, can’t decide, whether I’m at the same standard I was before.”
Ed rested his forearms on the table, his sandy, bushy eyebrows pulling together. “Is going back to that high-pressure environment something you want to do?”
“Are you telling me I should do something less stressful?” Rheo demanded, on the defensive. “Is it too corporate for you, Dad? Should I buy a van and hit the road?”
“No, I don’t want you to do what we do, you’d hate it.”
She’d forgotten how literal her father was. He didn’t do sarcasm.
“You always hated it. But you don’t have to return to a job you don’t want to do either,” Ed continued, his eyes holding more patience than she deserved.
Rheo’s temper subsided as quickly as it rose. “Sorry, Dad, it’s a hot button.”
“I know,” Ed replied. “Our hot button is you criticizing our lifestyle. It’s not fun knowing your only child thinks you are moronic for doing what you do, for the life you live.”
Oh... Bullseye , Dad... straight to the heart. Rheo faced a choice. She could change the subject, or they could pull their issues into the light and deal with them.
“It’s no secret that I hate that you can’t support yourselves without taking the occasional handout,” she said, choosing her words carefully.
Rheo heard Carrie’s gasp, but she kept her eyes on her father’s face. “I hate it when you take money from people—” she swallowed “—from me , and promise to repay it and then don’t. That you sweep it under the carpet and hope I forget about it. I don’t forget, and every time you break your word, another piece of me cracks.”
When had she last been this honest? Rheo couldn’t remember. But it was time to open the wound and inspect it, as ugly as it was. Maybe if they could flush it out, they could find a better way to deal with each other in the future.
“We’ve had bad luck,” Gail protested. “Not everything was our fault!”
No, she wasn’t going to let her mom play the victim. “You made choices, Mom! In every way and every day, you made choices. Both of you got good job offers! I was there, I heard you talking about them. But something always went wrong. You got bored, or a boss was mean to you! Or someone was going somewhere, and you wanted to tag along!”
Hearing her voice rising, Carrie touched her arm. “Easy, Rhee.”
Rheo nodded. Her eyes connected with Gail’s, and she lifted one shoulder. “You can’t keep blaming circumstances, Mom. You chose this life, you chose it over me . Every decision you made had consequences attached to it.”
Gail ran her thumbnail along the edge of her plate. “Do you think we should’ve settled down when you came along?”
Should they have put her happiness above theirs? Should two people be miserable instead of one? She didn’t know. How much were parents supposed to sacrifice for their children? Everything? Nothing? Something in between?
“I don’t know. I can’t answer that. I’m just glad I came off the road when I did.”
“We lost you to your grandmother,” Ed stated bitterly, after throwing back his wine. “Once she got her claws into you, we didn’t have a chance in hell.”
Paddy had never made any bones about how much she despised her son’s lack of ambition, Ed’s complete inability to conform, and Rheo’s parents’ quest for freedom.
“Paddy’s love of structure and organization appealed to me,” Rheo carefully replied. And, yes, because she adored her grandmother, because she’d given Rheo a sense of stability when she’d most needed it, she had modeled her life after Paddy’s and taken on her opinions. Paddy’s life made sense to Rheo... But, along with her ambition and drive, she’d also absorbed Paddy’s judgmental streak.
Paddy liked things the way she liked them and so did Rheo. But their way didn’t suit everybody. Being confined to an office life would’ve killed her father. Or worse, it would’ve killed his delight in the world and his adventurous spirit. He and Fletch were alike in that way. Was that why Fletch was ignoring her? Because he’d stayed in the same place for too long and was feeling jailed?
She couldn’t think about Fletch now; she needed to concentrate on her parents.
“What happens when you get too old to be on the road? You don’t have a house, medical insurance, or a consistent source of income. What happens then?”
Ed cleared his throat and his normally quick-to-smile mouth tightened. “I admit I’ve—” he placed a hand on Gail’s shoulder “— we’ve made mistakes, pretty big ones. I know you worry about us. But we never asked you to do that. Maybe we should’ve talked to you more.”
He sighed. “When your grandfather died fifteen years ago, he left both your dad—” he nodded at Carrie “—and me, money. His will stipulated we had to use the money to buy property. We bought a house here in Gilmartin, which we’ve rented out since then. That money has been placed into a fund, earmarked for our retirement.”
Holy shit. What? Why couldn’t he have told her this sooner?
Rheo massaged her temples. “And the money you borrowed from me?”
Ed looked embarrassed. “We knew we couldn’t have access to the retirement fund because we’d spend it, so we put it in an inaccessible account. Asking you to help us when we ran short was our only option.” He shrugged. “You’ll inherit the house one day, so you’ll get your money back.”
Aaargggghhhhh! So much angst and annoyance could’ve been avoided if they’d communicated better. “Have you told Paddy this?” she demanded.
Ed snorted. “I tried, but she wasn’t prepared to listen. And you know how she sometimes only hears what she wants. I think that happened when I asked her whether she had a will.”
“My dad says she likes thinking badly of him and you,” Carrie said. She looked at Ed. “Your brother John died while you and Dad lived, and she’s never quite forgiven either of you for that.”
Was that true? She’d known Paddy preferred John’s ambition, but did Paddy feel like that ? If she did, then maybe Rheo didn’t know her grandmother as well as she thought.
“She’s goddamn stubborn,” Rheo said, shaking her head. “And too set in her ways.”
Three sets of eyebrows rose as they all looked at her. Rheo lifted her hands. “What?” she demanded.
“That’s the first time we’ve heard you criticize Paddy,” Carrie replied. “Normally, you’re her biggest cheerleader.”
It was a fair comment, but lately, she’d gained a different perspective on her grandmother. “I love her, but I’m terrified to tell her I screwed up. I shouldn’t be this scared of her,” Rheo admitted. “If I felt more secure about her love, this wouldn’t be as big an issue.”
Carrie nodded. “You’ve always put her on a pedestal, Rheo. You’re learning she’s a flawed human. We’re all flawed, Rhee,” Carrie continued. “It makes us what we are and gives us space to change and grow.”
Rheo wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want another family feud, Carrie.”
“And Paddy can start a fight in an empty room,” Carrie added. For a full minute, nobody had a reply to her pithy comment.
“Anyway, we were talking about you returning to work, Rheo,” Gail said, breaking the silence. “What do you need to return?”
It was nice they were taking an interest. Also a little strange.
“Fletch thinks I need confidence. He thinks that if I succeed at something I hate and suck at, then I can only succeed at something I like and am good at.”
“He sounds like a smart guy,” Gail commented.
He was.
“So, what do you hate?” Carrie asked. “We could go rock climbing? What about a three-day hike? Kayaking?”
Rheo shuddered. “No, no, and no . But Fletch thinks I should enter Gilmartin’s Mud Race, the fun one, this weekend,” Rheo added, putting as much disdain into her voice as she could manage.
“Oh, you’d hate that!” Carrie cackled.
She would.
“And are you going to do it?” Ed asked.
That would be a hard no.
“I’ll do it with you!” Carrie cried, clapping her hands and wiggling her butt in the chair. Nobody should be this excited about doing a mud race. Ever. “Would Abi like to do it with us?”
Another hard no.
“I’m not doing it,” she told Carrie, but her cousin had the same I’m not listening to you expression she remembered from when they were girls.
“You have to live beyond your comfort zone,” Carrie insisted.
“Why does going beyond my comfort zone mean me having to get muddy, sweaty, and breathless?”
Carrie rolled her eyes. “Do I really need to explain that to you?”
Because a mud race was everything she hated? And that if she finished the race, if she didn’t quit, there would be some measure of pride at knowing she’d completed something she loathed.
“I don’t think we’ve done anything like this together,” Carrie said, sounding ridiculously happy. “Oh, this is going to be great!”
No, it wasn’t, but Rheo couldn’t take away her excitement by telling her there was an ice cube’s chance in a fucking volcano that she was going to climb over obstacles and run through mud.
Gail started to clear the plates and Carrie stood to help. Carrie’s phone buzzed. Rheo looked down and saw Fletch’s name light up her screen. So Fletch could text Carrie but not her? Nice.
Carrie read the message and looked at Rheo. “They’ll be here in a couple of hours,” she quietly told Rheo.
“They?”
“Fletch is bringing his friend, his expedition doctor, Seb Michaels, with him,” Carrie replied, sounding less than impressed.
God, Fletch texting Carrie instead of her hurt so goddamn much.
“Did he text you?” Carrie asked.
Rheo shook her head.
“I don’t know why he’s acting like this,” Carrie told her, looking genuinely confused. “He’s normally so upfront.”
Rheo didn’t understand either, but she wasn’t going to wait around for him. She was going to take a shower, go to bed, and in the morning, she’d deal with Fletch.
She looked at Carrie. “He’s got a key. You don’t have to wait up for him.”
“I know, but I will. Do you want me to pass on a message?” she asked.
Rheo shook her head. By saying nothing, he’d told her a lot.