Chapter Thirty
Juliette was the last one in the office, trying to work magic with the dismal marketing budget for the upcoming season, when the text came in.
She was out the door three minutes later, requesting a rideshare and growling at the surcharge fee.
Juliette imagined all manner of things as the rideshare traversed the city toward her destination.
A new clue in the investigation? Even more dire circumstances for Simon Says?
A hostage situation? For all she knew, she was driving straight into a trap.
But when she arrived, Kate swung the door open in a frilly apron decorated with cherries, a smear of what Juliette sincerely hoped was chocolate frosting across her cheek, and an almost manic smile. “Juliette! You made it.”
“Of course I made it,” Juliette said, holding up her phone. “You texted, in all caps, ‘EMERGENCY, COME OVER ASAP.’ I thought you found something on Troy Pham after my dinner with Clayton two nights ago. Or, at the very least, that you’d been kidnapped.”
“Did I say ‘emergency’?” Kate mused, frowning. “That doesn’t sound like me. We might have different definitions of emergency.”
“Everyone has the same definition of emergency. That’s why dictionaries exist,” Juliette said flatly. “What the hell, Kate? I paid surcharge prices for this! I was expecting to punch someone in the face, and the night is still very young.”
Kate put her hands up in conciliation—or possibly in defense. “Why don’t you come in?”
Juliette looked past her shoulder into Kate’s apartment, which looked suspiciously clean. Especially for Kate. “Did you finally hire a maid?”
“Jake made a twenty-four-hour policy,” Kate said. “All take-out containers get thrown away after twenty-four hours. He also makes me put my laundry up the same day I wash it. It’s really tested our relationship, I don’t mind telling you. You want to see the bedroom? Come in!”
“Why are you trying to get me inside your apartment?” Juliette asked. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Is this a hostage situation? I’ve got some pepper spray that’s about to expire, I can put it to good use.”
“What?” Kate asked, far too loud. “No, of course not. Everything is fine! You should just come in, it’s rude to keep people waiting on the doorstep.”
But Juliette wasn’t convinced. Kate was acting weird … er than usual. “Is Jake here? I need proof of life.”
“He’s in the kitchen,” Kate said, glancing at her phone tucked in one frilly apron pocket. She raised her voice. “Jake, tell Juliette you’re in the kitchen!”
“I’m in the kitchen!” came a voice from inside. It did sound Australian, but maybe too much? Like somebody was trying too hard. Then again, Jake always sounded like he should have a koala on his shoulder.
“See? Everything’s fine. Come in!” Kate said it almost like a command, a desperate gleam in her eye. “Right now, before the neighbors start asking questions.”
“Kate, you’re being so weird, even for you. Which is really saying something.”
The elevator dinged and Kate went into full panic mode. She grabbed Juliette’s arm, tugging her forward. “You want a drink? We’ve got chips and dip! We can—”
“Juliette?”
Juliette spun in surprise, dragging Kate halfway out the door with her.
Charlie stood just outside the elevator, hovering at the opposite end of the hall indecisively.
He wore that shapeless, boxy white coat, which somehow managed to look both frumpy and adorable on his tall frame.
Was he going to make her actually start appreciating the sexual appeal of a lab coat?
That might be the greatest insult of all.
After the fact that he hadn’t called or texted or even asked about her since the night they kissed.
“Hey, Charlie,” she said, like she couldn’t care less that he was there. If he wasn’t going to text, she wasn’t going to care. Even if she did suddenly wish she’d brushed her hair and worn different heels and didn’t reek of a twelve-hour day. “What are you doing here?”
“Kate texted,” Charlie said, coming down the hall. He even made walking look good; how was that possible? “She said it was—”
“Let me guess,” Juliette said, giving Kate a dead stare. “‘EMERGENCY, COME OVER ASAP’? All caps?”
“That’s literally what it says,” Charlie said, holding up his phone. “But Kate, you look—”
“Charlie!” Kate said brightly, like she’d just spotted him. “What luck that you’re here. Juliette just got here, and wouldn’t you know, Jake and I made dinner and we made way too much food. Why don’t you guys eat with us?”
“Kate, I was in the middle of planning the next season’s budget,” Juliette groaned.
“I’ve got three follow-up calls to make with patients before I can clock out,” Charlie said.
“It’s all work and no play with you guys. I bet neither one of you bothered to eat lunch today, so you must be starving.”
Had Juliette eaten lunch? Of course she had, she went down to the café on the corner and had a salad.
Or was that last week? The days were starting to blur together, honestly.
At least the ones without a murder in them.
The way her body wanted to physically knock Kate down to get to whatever delicious smell was coming from her kitchen made Juliette think she had not, in fact, eaten lunch that day.
Not that she was willing to admit as much to Kate.
Jake appeared, arms full of a tray piled high with glistening meat. “Ribs are ready. Oh good, Juliette and Charlie are here. Perfect timing.”
“Come in,” Kate said, and this time she did physically drag Juliette across the threshold, leaving the door open for Charlie to follow.
“So, it was a hostage situation,” Juliette hissed. “Only I am the hostage.”
“Drinks!” Kate announced, ignoring Juliette’s ire. “Jake, could you help me make some drinks in the kitchen?”
“What do you need me for?” Jake asked, setting the ribs down.
“You’re better at the shaker thing than I am,” Kate said, and now she was dragging him away instead. “You two make yourselves comfortable, we’ll be right back!”
Juliette looked around the table, which had four obvious place settings complete with silverware, wineglasses, and plate chargers. Juliette knew for a fact that Kate didn’t own nonplastic silverware, which meant she’d gone out and gotten all of this just for them.
“So,” Juliette started, looking at Charlie. “This is obviously a double date situation.”
“It does appear that way, yeah,” Charlie said.
“You can leave,” Juliette offered. “I’ll tell Kate the president had a heart attack or something and they needed their top surgeon immediately. I mean, she obviously doesn’t understand the word emergency. But in this context, I think it’s actually appropriate.”
Charlie chuckled. “I should have learned my lesson the last time she texted Jake that there was an emergency because she’d lost the remote and the TV was stuck on Real Housewives.
It has been a while since I’ve seen my brother, actually.
And I don’t know how Kate knew, but I haven’t eaten lunch today.
Unless two bags of crisps and a donut of indeterminate age counts. ”
“It does not, and it should not,” Juliette said, grabbing a sticky, glistening rib. “Do you think they’ll notice that I ate a rib if I hide the bone in the bottom of the pile?”
“I was going to stuff mine in the plant, only I forgot that Kate once killed a plastic plant by setting it too close to the stovetop and melting the leaves,” Charlie said, grinning. “She’s not allowed to keep plants, alive or otherwise, anymore.”
Juliette grimaced. “That doesn’t inspire confidence for these ribs. On the other hand, I’m too starved to care.”
“Jake is great on the barbie, and also great at keeping Kate far away from the kitchen while he’s working,” Charlie murmured, biting into a rib with relish. “It’s the only reason I’d ever agree to dinner with them in the first place.”
“So, you’re available for dinner with them,” Juliette said, trying and failing miserably to sound as if she couldn’t care less what he did with his time. “I mean, you’re so busy with all your surgeries. Hardly have time to check your phone, I imagine.”
Oh god, she sounded exactly like one of those women who sat around all day thinking about a guy, hoping he would text, building the excitement of their day around a single thumbs-up emoji.
She hated it. She hated herself. She should go for a ten-mile run and take an ice bath and get her fucking priorities straight.
She had way more important things to do than stress out over a man’s attention after one single kiss.
Even if it was possibly the hottest kiss she’d ever had.
Or, whatever. She’d had hotter. Probably.
“Juliette,” Charlie said, looking uncomfortable. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if working up to the right words to say. “I should have called you. I was thinking—”
“Drinks!” Kate announced, arriving with a tray of delicate pink cocktails in shallow-stemmed glasses with a perfect curl of lemon peel tucked on the edge of each one. “I made them myself.”
“Oh, great,” Charlie said weakly, reaching for a glass.
“No thanks,” Juliette said flatly. “The last time you made me a gin and tonic I almost ended up in the ER with alcohol poisoning.”
“I told you, I thought a jigger was a cup!” Kate protested.
“You wrote an entire series about a bartender! How could you not know what a jigger was?”
“Because Loretta solved murders, not nomenclature!” Kate sniffed. “But Jake mixed the drinks, if that makes you feel better.”
“Kate lined up the glasses,” Jake said with a grin, giving Kate an affectionate squeeze.
“My talents lie elsewhere,” Kate sniffed. Her gaze darted back and forth between Charlie and Juliette. “So … dinner?”