Chapter Five Girl Talk
RYLEE
Walking into my apartment, I release a breath of relief.
It’s later than I was thinking I’d be home, but between meeting with the magazine’s travel manager, arranging for other photographers to take over my current jobs, and typing up instructions on photo editing jobs I’ve been working on, I wasn’t able to leave the office until over an hour after typical quittin’ time.
Now I’m in a rush, because I’m supposed to head to Mom’s for the weekend, and that’s a twenty-five minute drive.
I’d called her earlier this afternoon to ask if she wanted to have dinner because I wanted to tell her the good news about my new assignment, and we decided just to make a weekend of it.
I need to hurry and pack and grab Gizmo…
A fuzzy blur suddenly darts from the shadows of my apartment and jumps onto my leg, wrapping its paws around me and clinging on tight.
“Ah, there you are,” I say, gazing down into the blue eyes of a wanna-be killer in a fluffy, Ragdoll cat body. “How are you, baby? Did you miss Mama today?”
Gizmo rubs his head back and forth against my leg before chomping down on my calf.
“Ouch!” I hiss, reaching down to pull him off me. “I told you not to do that!”
As I cuddle him in my arms, he bats at my chin, but allows me to hold him.
I adopted Gizmo when I first moved back to Nashville, after graduating and getting my job at ICON.
I was leaving college and my roomies behind and didn’t want to be lonely, and when I saw him at the shelter, I immediately knew he had to be mine.
This cat has the definition of resting bitch face, with a squarish head and ears that stick out to the side.
His fur is a mixture of gray, white, and tan, and the reason for his name is because he looks exactly like Gizmo from the Gremlins movie.
He also is a Gremlin, as demonstrated by his immediate attack when I walked through the door.
“Come on, buddy,” I say, moving further into the loft-style apartment with its exposed-brick walls, slanted ceiling, and open floor plan kitchen and living room.
I make my way toward the bedroom area of the loft, which is separated from the rest of the space by a folding room divider screen.
Setting Gizmo on the bed, I grab my suitcase and start packing for the weekend.
“We’re going to see Grandma,” I tell Gizmo as I stuff clothes into the bag. “And then, we have to figure out everything we’re taking to Denver. You want to go to Denver, baby?”
In response, Gizmo turns, presents me with his butthole, and then curls up into a ball in the middle of the bed.
“It’ll be fun,” I tell him with a grin. “I promise. You’ll get to see Grace, Skyler, and Stacey, and all the hotties they hang out with. Exciting, right?”
He ignores me, which I take to mean that yes, he is excited. Why wouldn’t he be? This is an incredible opportunity, and if I can do a good job, he’ll be swimming in toys and catnip, living like an emperor, since he already lives like a king.
So long as we survive the trip there, that is. But that’s what kitty Xanax is for.
Driving up to my childhood home, I feel a wistful nostalgia wash over me.
It’s a ranch-style, modest little thing with a perfectly manicured lawn and rose bushes lined under the front windows.
I remember when Mom planted those bushes.
I was about ten and she’d spent hours out there in the sun and heat, cultivating her flowers with tender care until they bloomed.
They’re still lush and beautiful, though past their prime blooming time.
As I park in front of the two car garage, the front door flies open and Mom pops out onto the cement steps leading up to it.
“There’s my girl!” Mom exclaims as I get out of the car with my bag and Gizmo’s carrier. She wraps me up into a tight hug.
“Hey, Mom,” I gasp, barely able to breathe with how hard she’s squeezing me. “Sorry we’re late.”
“Oh, don’t be sorry,” she says, letting me go before I suffocate. I look her up and down and brush my fingers through the ends of her blonde hair. “You got it cut short. I like it.”
Her golden brown eyes crinkle at the corner as she grins and fluffs her hair. “Thank you, sweetheart. I wanted to try something new.”
“Well, I love it.”
She bends down to look into Gizmo’s carrier. “How’s my grand-kitty? Still a little hell spawn?”
“You know it,” I chuckle.
When Mom straightens, she flutters her hands like a startled bird. “Come in, come in! Dinner’s on the stove.”
She leads me inside my childhood home and shuts the door behind me.
The house hasn’t changed much since I was a kid, though she did get the kitchen redone a few years ago.
We step into the living room, which flows directly into the dining room, the two spaces bordered by carpet and linoleum tiles.
There’s a newish sectional couch and a cushioned armchair arranged to face a mounted flat screen TV in the living room.
She bought those when I was in college, finally parting ways with the old floral foldout couch and squeaky rocker.
A wooden oval table with matching chairs my grandpa made are in the dining room.
There are tons of pictures hanging on the walls of me and my brother when we were kids…
though not many of us together after I turned ten.
None of my dad, though.
The kitchen is just behind the table with its shiny appliances and white cabinets.
“Something smells delicious, Mom,” I say, setting my suitcase and Gizmo’s carrier down on the floor in the living room.
“Thanks, sweetie. You can let Gizmo out and I’ll get dinner on the table.
” She hurries into the kitchen while I go about getting Gizmo settled.
He’s been here plenty of times before, so he doesn’t take much time to acclimate.
Opening the carrier, he immediately bolts to the armchair - his favorite place in the house - and curls up, going right to sleep.
“Little screwball,” I chuckle.
Mom comes out of the kitchen to set a pot of chili on the table. My mouth starts to water.
“Sit down, sweetheart,” she tells me, waving at a chair with a place setting in front of it. “You need to tell me this good news of yours.”
I plop down into the chair and Mom serves me up a bowl of chili.
“I’ve got this awesome new assignment,” I tell her. “ICON is sending me to Denver to do two features on the Night Hawks - you know the hockey team? Jensen, Grace's husband is the captain, and Skyler and my new friend Stacey are in relationships with some of their players?”
“Oh, yes!” Mom exclaims with a nod. “You’re going to take the photos for the features?”
“Not just that. I’m writing the features!”
Mom’s eyes go wide and she stares at me a moment before letting out a squeal of delight.
“Sweetheart, that’s amazing!” she exclaims. “That’s my girl!”
I beam at her. “I’m so excited. If I nail this, I’ll start photographing not just for the Athletics Edition, but the Lifestyle one as well.”
“I’m so proud of you. You’ve been working so hard to get here, and I know you’re going to do an amazing job.” She chuckles and waggles her eyebrows. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll even meet someone like your friends all have. Hopefully someone better than that good-for-nothing Miles.”
I feel some of my elation dim at the mention of Miles. Damn it, I don’t want to think about him. I can’t believe I wasted so much time on him, only to be cheated on and used because of my position in ICON.
The memory of showing up to Vegas to surprise him only to walk in on him fucking some chick with fake tits and lip injections burns through my mind. It was humiliating and heartbreaking, and I still feel like a total idiot for giving that asshat my heart.
“But whoever you do meet, dump them the moment you don’t think they’re good enough,” Mom says, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. “Don’t ever settle for anything but the best.”
I give her a wry smile. What a very Jade Benson thing to say.
My strong, independent, don’t need no man mother has always drilled it into me to stick to my standards and never settle for anything less than perfection when it comes to a guy.
Understandable, given all the bullshit she’s put up with in her life, including my Dad leaving her.
Another man I’d rather not think about.
Rolling my eyes, I reply, “I know, Mom. Don’t worry.”
“I’m your mom, I’ll always worry. You’re a smart girl, though. You’ll find your perfect guy. I just know it, and when you do, he’ll treat you right and always put you first.”
I feel an ache in my chest and try not to think of Dad living his cozy life in Ireland with his new family.
I’ll never get caught up by a guy like him… I’ll only end up heartbroken and alone.
I can’t help but think of the Cloak app… Mom definitely wouldn’t approve of meeting a guy that way. She’s a bit old fashioned in her idea of meet-cutes and romance and doesn’t like “shortcuts.” Still, I’m a woman of the modern age… maybe I should join it and just see what it’s like.
If nothing else, it might help me get over my dating slump since dumping Miles.
“Okay, so tomorrow we should go shopping,” Mom declares.
I arch a brow. “Shopping? Why?”
“We need to make sure you have everything you need before you go to Denver,” she explains, giving me a “duh” expression. “It’s the end of September. It’s going to get cold there! Do you know where you’ll be staying?”
Oh, shit! I forgot I was going to call Grace about that.
“Not yet,” I admit. “I’m hoping Grace will have an idea of somewhere I can stay that will allow me to bring Gizmo, since I’ll be gone for so long.”
“Can’t leave Gizmo behind,” Mom agrees, looking toward the living room, where the fuzzball is sleeping soundly. “Little guy would be beside himself with missing you.”
“I’d miss him too. I’ll miss you enough as it is, Mom. At least we can talk on the phone.”