Chapter 29
“HANNAH HAWKS!!!” Leslie screams.
Holy shit! My old bff! Two besties in one place! Let’s gooooo!
The dogs all start barking, and Hannah, who has just pushed open the door, looks like she is about one second from turning
on her heels and running in the opposite direction, green screen in hand.
“Hannah!” I say and dash over to pull her into the office. I’m about to introduce her to Tasha, when Leslie somehow manages
to slip between us, enveloping Hannah in a huge hug.
Okay, but I kinda wanted that hug. From, like, both of them.
“Hi,” Hannah says, glaring over Leslie’s head at me like I maybe did this on purpose. I shake my head, but it’s hard to convey
complex topics like “I had no idea this was going to happen but trust me she’s so nice and also do you want to meet the girl
I maybe possibly have a thing with?” from a head shake.
“You changed my life!” Leslie cries, clasping Hannah way too tightly.
“You’re . . . welcome?” she manages.
I’ve known Hannah was internet famous, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen the evidence in front of me. It’s pretty impressive how emotional Leslie is right now, and I try to push down my feelings of inadequacy.
And also, I can’t help but notice Hannah’s being a little bit rude again? Like how she was when my parents were gushing about
her success earlier today? I would kill to have someone gush about how much I changed their life.
The only thing my great ideas and dedication got me was a low-wage crossing guard gig, a depressingly single life after a failed decade-long
relationship, and a murder investigation that I’ve just realized I have no handle on whatsoever.
Then my eyes drift over to Tasha and I reconsider the “depressingly single” bit.
“Hannah, this is Leslie, Alderman Carey, and Tasha,” I say, trying to put a little emphasis on “Tasha.”
Leslie finally pulls away, and she is absolutely beaming.
“Leslie Carey, chief of staff,” Leslie says to Hannah. “But my real job is Dog Mom Extraordinaire.” She winks at Hannah, exactly
like she did with me. It’s silly, but that stings. “So great to meet you IRL.” She turns to Merle. “That means ‘in real life.’ ”
For his part, Merle is starting to look like a man who’s accidentally walked into a gynecologist’s exam room. He glances back
toward his office distractedly, and says, “I’m sure I’ve got some . . . paperwork back there. Stay safe, everyone. And don’t
forget to vote.”
Then, crutches scraping against the floor, he makes the longest, most awkward exit I have ever seen.
While I watch Merle go, Leslie is regaling Hannah with all the ways Hannah’s UPGRADE training has changed her life and helped her be her best, most assertive self, and when the alderman disappears into his office, I turn my full attention back to them, only to discover that Hannah’s shooting me some pretty serious rescue-me looks.
Which, I don’t know, isn’t having nice old lady fans gush over your work the whole point of being internet famous?
But Hannah did come all the way here for me, so I do my part. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we have some important business to attend to,” I say to Tasha and Leslie, which I really hate because
Hannah hasn’t even gotten to talk to Tasha or, like, appreciate how hot she is.
“Do you have to?” Leslie asks, clearly crushed.
“Unfortunately,” I say, collecting the dogs. “You know what they say—the internet never sleeps!”
Leslie nods solemnly. “They do say that, don’t they?”
“Yep,” Hannah and I reply at the same time.
Then she gives Hannah one last appreciative hug while I turn to Tasha.
“I’ll text you,” I say.
“Please do,” Tasha says in a tone of voice I can’t quite figure out. “Would love to . . . finish what we started.”
I’m really hoping she means in a sexy way and not a “you’re a paranoid weirdo, I’m done” way. Just because I was wrong about her boss
doesn’t mean I’m wrong about everything. I turn to wave as I walk out of the door, but she’s already notarizing, absently
pushing back the one strand of hair falling across her face. Dreamiest Notary Public in all the land. Sigh.
Out on the sidewalk, Hannah’s walking quickly, and I have to jog to catch up. The three dogs trot along with me.
“You’re so popular! So famous!” I say as Hannah speed walks ahead of me. “And isn’t that lady nice? She told me I was doing
a great job with the dogs—”
“What is the deal with these dogs, Mo?” she says curtly over her shoulder.
“I told you,” I say. “They’re just temporary.”
She stops abruptly and turns to face me. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, fine. That’s what we’re doing,” I say, and it comes out harshly because I’m annoyed, but I can’t explain why except
in a way that makes me sound like a jealous asshole. “What’s up?”
“There,” she says, waving toward Dickie’s Tavern a few storefronts away.
“Maybe we should go to a park or something?” I say. “As you so astutely observed, I am the guardian of three dogs right now.”
“Dogs are allowed,” she says, pointing to a sign on the exterior that says Doggos Welcome. “And I need a drink.”
We slide into a booth and the three dogs curl up under the table, surprisingly without any fuss. It’s the same booth I sat
in with Tasha, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and proprietary and excited to tell Hannah all about it. Finally I have
something to report that will make her proud, and, more specifically, that isn’t about murder.
We have beers in front of us—not the beers we ordered, of course, but Hannah doesn’t seem to care because she’s already housing
her pint.
Now that I have a second to notice, it looks like she hasn’t slept. Her eyes are puffy and her usually glossy brown hair is
pulled back in a rough pony. Her vintage sundress looks stylish at first glance, but up close it’s wrinkled like she’s been
sleeping in it, and her bra straps are sticking out awkwardly. They don’t match the dress at all.
I realize with a start: My bff is rattled by something. And even though my first reaction is, Guess she’s not so perfect after all, I obviously mean it in a good way. What’s the point in keeping the bar so high that you can’t even be a real person?
“You look terrible,” I say approvingly.
“Um—”
“And I know you barely got to meet her, but that was Tasha! The hot chick with the glasses.”
Hannah looks lost. “What?”
“Remember? The girl I maybe might have a thing with? My steamy government conquest? My spicy civil hookup? My risqué municipal
bang?”
She just blinks and I’m not sure why she isn’t giving me credit for this incredibly mature step I’ve taken of not just pining
away for Chris nonstop. I thought this was what she wanted.
“I told you about her,” I say. “She’s super cool and smart and a ton of fun—”
“Your rebound.” Hannah nods, glancing at her phone. “Right.”
I feel like I’ve been slapped across the face. That’s it? That’s all she’s got to say? What happened to the Hannah who demands
every little detail? Who actually cares about my stuff and not just her own empire?
“What, got a new collab in your DMs? Too big-time to be happy for me?” I snap, regretting it almost instantly, but not willing
to take it back either. Sometimes the truth sucks.
“Are you kidding?” she asks incredulously and then throws her hands in the air. “I wouldn’t know what to be happy for. Do you realize we only ever talk when you need something from me? You’ve turned into a completely different person! A person
with three dogs! Who does that?”
“I’m still the same person under all the dogs!” I say defensively. “And I told you, they’re tempora—”
“Seriously, let’s just look at the last twenty-four hours.
” She starts counting on her fingers. “Yesterday, you didn’t call me when you said you would.
This morning, when I came to your corner with your favorite coffee, you blew me off and made me run errands for you, made me lie to Eva about the green screen because you’re too scared of
her to just ask her yourself and then conveniently forget that I specifically asked you to make some time for me—”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?”
Hannah shakes her head. “I’ve spent so much time trying to be a good friend to you, and you know what? I’m starting to think
it’s not worth it.”
“Ouch, Han.”
“I have followers who are better friends to me!” she says, her voice rising.
“Well, sucks to be them since clearly you don’t give a shit about your fans,” I say, my voice rising too. “You’re just using
them to enhance your brand.”
She gasps. “I am not using anyone.”
“Oh for sure,” I say. “It’s not selfish at all. Like Leslie just now, who’s so sweet and clearly adores you, and you can’t give her a
second of your time? Even though she’s clearly bought in to the whole stupid UPGRADE thing.”
“Oh, my ‘stupid UPGRADE thing’ that got you a new life when you were fired and dumped on the same day?”
“I hate this new life!” I explode, letting go of all my frustration at trying to make my life, to make ME, more perfect, more
like Hannah. “I did everything you said, and all it’s done is ruin everything!”
We glare at each other for a second.
“Seriously, Mo? You don’t need my help to ruin everything. It’s kind of your whole vibe. Here,” she says, tossing the folded-up
green screen at me. “I selfishly spent like seventy-five bucks on rideshares today and selfishly stole this green screen and selfishly waited for you to finish flirting with your rebound girlie after I told you I needed to talk.” Tears are running down her face, and she wipes her nose roughly. “I did all of that when I should’ve
been taking care of myself and contacting the police about my stupid stalker.” She slides across the booth, and I put my hand
out to stop her.
“Wait, Hannah,” I say. “You have a stalker? Like a real stalker? Are you okay?”
She blinks away tears. “I’ve tried to talk to you about this. You just didn’t listen.”
I rack my brain. Did she try to talk to me about this? I cannot remember. Am I the selfish one?
She shakes her arm free and scoots out of the booth, leaving me there to clutch the green screen and feel like maybe she was
right. Maybe I am the worst possible friend.
No. I’m not letting her walk out like this, not for anything. I peel my thighs off the vinyl seats with a weak little cry
and stand up.
“Hannah, stop,” I say. And she does stop. She stops and turns to look at me, hand on hip.
I’m about to apologize for being a shitty, clueless friend. I’m about to beg her to please come back and sit with me, tell
her I’ll buy her another round, and we’ll figure out what to do about her stalker, I really am. I’m just trying to figure
out how to say it.
And that’s precisely when the door to Dickie’s opens, and Benny walks in.
Benny.
Relief hits me like a tidal wave. I can’t manage to say anything, not a word, but I do break into a huge smile, despite the fact that Benny is glaring daggers at me, which I definitely deserve.
Only when Hannah groans do I remember that I was about to be a good friend.
“Grow up, Mo,” she says, looking between me and Benny. She blows past him with no idea who he is, because maybe she’s right and I am a completely different person under all the dogs.
And then she’s gone.
Benny claps a hand on my shoulder, and not in a friendly way.
“Hello there,” he says. “Drinks on you.”