Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
Friday morning, Leavenworth: Tabitha
“Still?” Tabitha’s carefully erected optimism for the coming excursion crumbled as Lark opened the RV door looking nearly as ill as the day before.
While she wanted her friend to feel better, she also needed a buffer between her and Zac.
She’d barely escaped a horrible mistake—she’d forgotten her panties in his van, for chrissake—and she wasn’t so sure her resolve would hold up to another outing with just the two of them.
Lark waved her in. “Sorry, babe. I can’t keep anything down besides water and peeled cucumber slices. I tried a saltine earlier and yarffed it all up."
Tabitha stepped inside and wrinkled her nose.
Her sickly friend caught the involuntary flinch and appeared sheepish for the first time since Tabitha had known her. “Sorry. I must be nose-blind. Didn’t realize how smelly my decomposing body was making Gertie.”
Tabitha held her breath until they opened some windows to allow airflow. She gulped in a lungful and then turned back to her friend.
“Is it safe to assume you aren’t up to going on the multi-pitch?”
“Not unless you plan on carting me on your back like a baby koala.”
“Shit.” Claudia had already sounded miffed that Tabitha missed out on getting pictures of the Millers during the interview and that was only sitting in a coffee shop. There’s no way she’d be cool with not having a photographer for the main event.
“I really am sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Tabitha couldn’t be mad at her friend. She couldn’t help getting food poisoning. Though perhaps she’d start to rethink her dubious food choices in the future. “But can you lay off the specials from here on out? At least when we’re on assignment?”
“I say yes now, but who knows what future Lark will do. That bitch is unpredictable,” she said, crawling onto her bed and wrapping the tangled sheets around herself to form a nest.
“You should spend the day in my room. Air conditioning, shower. You’d probably be more comfortable.”
“Think I’d rather keep this contained to my RV.”
“Is there anything you want before I meet up with Zac?”
“Only a rundown of how things went yesterday.” A glimpse of her cheeky friend peeked through the dark circles and pallid skin.
“There’s not enough time for that.” Tabitha refilled Lark’s water bottle and dropped in a hydration tab. “Drink this plus one more today.”
Lark accepted the water bottle. “Yes, doctor. But I expect the full scoop on the drive home tomorrow. No pensive silence. No short-changing. The. Full. Shit. Got it?”
Tabitha chuckled despite herself and the ominous vibe she got for the coming day. But taking in her friend’s pathetic state of misery softened her edges. “Got it.”
“She’s still sick?” Frankie leaned against the counter at OtB, sipping on a coffee calorie bomb.
Tabitha watched as a few rogue sprinkles slipped down the side of her own plastic cup in a trail of melted whip.
She appreciated the gesture of her new friend surprising her with a coffee before the excursion.
Still, she wished the triple caramel mocha frapp-a-whatever was a simple iced Americano.
“Yep. I’ve never seen her so drained,” Tabitha confirmed. Lark was always so vibrant and colorful. Her current state was a lot to take in. “No issues with you even though you had the same poke bowl?”
“Nope. But I’ve got the gut of a hyena. I don’t think I’ve ever had food poisoning.”
“Probably because you’ve trained it to tolerate some over-the-top shit,” Zac cut in to the conversation as he strode into the lobby from the back room. He laid eyes on Tabitha and gave a congenial grin. “Good morning, Tabitha.”
Oof. Tabitha?
The omission of his usual, playful nicknames stung but she didn’t have the energy for awkwardness, so she opted to ignore it altogether.
“Woah,” Frankie said. “Someone looks spiffy today. What’s the occasion?”
She wasn’t wrong. While Zac’s original long beard and chaotic waves had given him a devil-may-care vibe, his current aesthetic was equally striking.
“I saw a barber last night.” He raised a hand to sun-kissed brown hair, careful not to disrupt the neatly tied knot at the back of his head. “He trimmed the beard too. Said he gave me the tidy Viking.”
“You look nice.” And that was underselling it. To be honest, the man looked downright lickable. Tabitha pictured him between her legs, tickling her inner thighs with his newly groomed facial hair.
Stop that.
She had to focus on the excursion and the article.
Daydreaming could get one of them hurt or worse.
And she was desperate to escape the day in one piece.
The lead class on Monday had helped to boost her confidence and shake away the nerves, the impending multi pitch would be a completely different event.
A lot could go wrong on any one of the pitches.
Her heartbeat picked up speed. She wiped her clammy hands on her hips and inhaled a deep—yet covert—breath.
She had this.
Zac had her.
“Thanks,” Zac said, scanning her face like he could read her thought. “I’ve got the truck loaded. Triple-checked all the gear and snacks. And I pulled this out of my closet.” He patted the camera bag he wore across his chest.
“Couldn’t find a photographer on short notice, huh?” Tabitha asked woefully.
“You mean with twenty-five minutes to spare? No.”
Some of her forced calm wavered. Without a professional photographer to take pictures of the multi-pitch, she desperately hoped Lark had some stellar shots from the earlier outings to make up for the miss.
R ‘n’ R readers would want to see the multi pitch.
And Claudia wasn’t easily satisfied, so she really hoped that whatever shots they could pull together would be enough.
“Well. I suppose there’s nothing we can do about it now. ”
“That’s the spirit,” Zac chuckled with forced cheer. “Ready to roll out?”
Tabitha nodded and followed her guide out the back door to the waiting truck. One last excursion to get through—eight measly hours—and then she could get out of her ex’s hair and meticulously groomed beard.
Why did that thought fill her with such disappointment?