Chapter 8 #2
Kay squeezed my hand. “I know, but—”
I stood, pacing the room. “I’m a wreck. Between Darrell and my financial situation, I can’t add Wes to the picture.
Especially since I …” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to think about our last conversation at the fundraiser.
The way he looked when he apologized to me, how I felt just being near him.
“What happened?” Bri asked, concern in her brown eyes. “You’re worrying me.”
“I don’t hate him,” I confessed. “I thought I did, but don’t.
” The truth was I’d never hated him. Even through the pain, I’d always sensed there was more to the story, more to his abrupt departure back then.
I still didn’t know the answers, but I believed him.
That was the problem, because it made me vulnerable to him, open to him.
Bri’s expression softened, signaling she understood me more than she cared to admit out loud. Because she felt the same way about Hendrix, wanting to hate him, but realizing she never could. “You don’t have to explain to me,” she whispered. “I get it.”
“I need to concentrate on me,” I explained. “I know myself. I’ll take this on and get wrapped up in his life, his family drama … him.” I shook my head. “I can’t do it.”
“I still don’t understand,” Kay mused.
And she wouldn’t. She was pragmatic and approached life’s trials as a challenge. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve done the same thing, but it was okay to say no. As hard as it was to turn down the money, I had to do what was best for me.
“It’s an assignment, sis,” Kay continued. “Work. And that’s what you do. You get the job done. You can do this.”
In theory, yes. But the precarious state of my reality made this goal seem unachievable. And detrimental. “I don’t want to. This isn’t up for discussion anymore. I’ll go see Granny Joyce today, apologize for my email.” I grabbed a clean towel and headed toward the bathroom. “But I’m out.”
When I emerged from my bedroom later, Bri and Kay were sitting at the kitchen table, bowls of Frosted Mini-Wheats in front of them.
Cereal was my comfort food. When I was a little girl, my mother made me compete in every pageant she could think of.
As a result, she’d restricted my diet to vegetables, lean meat, fish, and eggs.
My mother also hated waking up before ten o’clock in the morning, so I became an early riser.
It was the only time I had to myself, and I retreated to my hiding spot with a bowl of cereal.
Somehow, milk and sugar made everything better.
Bri noticed me first. Smiling, she said, “You look refreshed.”
Twisting in her chair, Kay nodded. “Perfect. We poured you some. Grab a spoon.”
A smile tugged at my mouth, and I shuffled over to them, taking a seat next to the window. We ate in silence for several minutes. This was what I needed. Cereal and sisterhood.
“I fired Amir’s sister,” Kay blurted out.
Frowning, I asked, “From the dental office?”
She nodded. “And from the wedding.”
“I told you not to hire her in the first place,” Bri chided. “Samira always has been messy as fuck. She stays inserting herself into everyone’s business.”
I poured more cereal into my bowl. “Still?”
“Girl, she tried to break us up last year,” Kay explained. “Now, she’s begging Amir to let her be our wedding content creator.”
My ears perked up. “What?” It wasn’t like I cared about Samira.
We never got along, partly because she’d exhibited several sociopathic tendencies.
Including her obsession with Wes. While the group joked about it back then, it was downright scary sometimes, so bad that Amir had to get his parents involved.
“I hope you told her no,” Bri said.
Nodding, Kay confirmed that she’d turned her future sister-in-law’s offer down. “But Amir is feeling sorry for her. He wants her to be included, but I’m just not sure. During the bridesmaid meetup, she insisted on knowing the phone numbers of all the groomsmen.”
While I was a member of the wedding party, I’d been unable to attend the group event. Which was a good thing because I was actively avoiding Wes. “I wonder if she still stalks Wes,” I mused aloud. When I glanced up from my bowl, I noticed Bri and Kay looking at me with interest. “What?”
“Nothing.” Kay tapped her finger against the table. “I’m just wondering why you asked.”
What the hell am I doing? I quit. In the most inappropriate way, but still … Ms. Tea doesn’t concern me anymore. Right? “No reason,” I said.
Kay nibbled her bottom lip. “It’s funny you ask, though. She asked about him last week.”
“They don’t even talk,” Bri offered. “Hendrix told me she’d been trying to get a job with Batchelor Corp, but Wes nixed that idea.”
Shit. So I couldn’t simply turn it off. After all, I’d already spent hours on the case. Even if I wasn’t going to work for Granny anymore, I owed this information to her—and maybe Wes. I glanced at my phone. “Damn it. The Lions traded McMahon.”
“Amir told me about the job thing,” Kay said. “She’s pretty unstable. I bet she’s still nursing that crush.”
Albany, don’t say anything. “I still think we have a chance at the Super Bowl this year.” My attempt to appear engrossed in the Detroit Lions—and not Wes—was a front. In reality, I was scrolling Samira’s social media pages, noting mutual friends in my private app, and mapping out her movements.
“Pookie,” Kay called. “Did you hear me?”
I blinked, peering up at Kay, then at Bri. Both of them were staring at me like I’d missed an entire conversation. “Huh?”
Kay took her empty bowl to the sink. “I asked if you wanted to go to the mall today.”
“We’re looking for shoes,” Bri added.
“Um …” Unfortunately, my thoughts had shifted to the case. I grabbed my laptop and booted it up. “I think I’ll pass.”
“What are you doing?” A knock on the door stopped Kay from sitting back down. She hurried to the door, shouting, “Who is it?”
Bri peered toward the door. “I’m not expecting anyone.”
“Uh-oh.”
I turned just in time for Kay to open the door, revealing Wes on the other side.
Slamming my laptop closed, I tried to pull an errant strand back into the haphazard bun I’d hastily tried to create earlier.
Hair was not my thing, and my decision to take my braids out and wear my natural hair for the fundraiser was as crazy as my decision to drink four lemon drops in one sitting.
I’d spent the better part of my life going to the salon, so I didn’t excel at hair styling.
Hell, I didn’t own a hairdryer or a flat iron.
Bri must’ve sensed my dilemma because she hurried over to me and fixed my bun. “You’re good,” she whispered once she finished.
“Thanks,” I grumbled.
Seconds later, Kay entered the kitchen. “Guess who’s here.” She glanced at Wes, then back at me. “I tried to kick him out, but he wouldn’t go.”
Wes smirked, shaking his head in amusement. “She didn’t try that hard,” he teased, shoving Kay playfully. “Amir still in Milwaukee?”
Nodding, Kay gave us the rundown of everything she had to do before the shower. “I’ll be glad when this is over”—she sighed—“because I’m tired.”
“It’ll be over soon.” Glancing at me, Wes asked, “Can we talk?”
I tried to ignore the six pairs of eyes staring at me, waiting for me to respond. Standing, I tugged at my oversized T-shirt. “Outside?”
He gestured for me to lead the way. “After you.”
The soft breeze against my face instantly settled my nerves. The small patio was perfect, and one of my favorite places nowadays. Michigan weather tended to be a little erratic, but now that the temps were steady, I’d taken to spending most mornings outside working.
I settled into one of the wicker chairs. “What’s up?”
Wes took the empty seat next to mine. “How are you?”
Confused, I asked, “Why?”
He rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head. “I had a meeting with Granny this morning.” He peered up at me. “She told me you quit.”
As heat crept up my neck to my cheeks, I wondered how much Granny Joyce had said to Wes. And since I didn’t know, I figured it made no sense to lie to him. “I did.”
“Can I ask why?”
“You can, but I’m not going to tell you.”
He chuckled. “Got it. Well, I guess your email seemed a little off to her, so she wanted me to verify that you had indeed sent it.”
“Oh, in that case, you can tell her I did.” I stood, satisfied that the conversation was over. “If that’s it, thanks for the message. And tell Granny that I’ll be by to see her and explain everything.”
He stretched his legs in front of him and leaned into the chair. “She is expecting you, but before you go, she wanted me to let you know that your letter of resignation has been considered but declined. Her exact words were Albany is the woman for the job.”
I plopped back down, bumping the corner of the small table with a knee. “Ouch.” I massaged my knee. “What?”
Shrugging, he added, “She also wanted me to give you this.” He handed me an envelope. “I also have strict instructions to assist in any way I can.”
“I don’t need your help with anything.”
“Open it.”
I peeked inside the envelope, then flipped it over. A key fell into my lap. Holding it up, I asked, “What is this for?”
“Temporary housing, in one of the many Batchelor properties,” he explained, glancing at his watch. “She’s sending movers over around three o’clock.”
Panic welled up inside me. “Wait, no. I’m not … No.”
He lifted his hands up. “You tell her then.”
Nibbling on my thumbnail, I paced the small area. “This can’t be happening,” I mumbled. “How do I handle this?” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Albany, think. Think.” When I opened my eyes, he was watching me with interest. “What?”
“Oh”—he pulled out another envelope—“she also wanted you to have this.”
I snatched it away from him and opened it. “Oh my God.” My eyes flashed to his. “This is money.”
“Really?”
“A lot of money.” I counted the stack of hundred-dollar bills. “I can’t accept this.”
“You already know how Granny is.”
My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I tried to come up with a plan of action. Except … nothing. I couldn’t think of anything but the bills I could pay with all this money. I slumped against the patio door. “What am I going to do?”
“Are you asking me?”
Once again, I peered at him. “No.”
“If you were”—he stood and approached me—“I’d tell you to take it.”
“It’s not a gift, is it?”
“Think of it like an advance,” he suggested. “For services rendered.”
I stared at the money. “Temporary,” I muttered under my breath. “It’s only for a short time. I’ll work my ass off to earn the money, then find my own place.”
“Good plan.”
Frowning, I pushed past him and leaned against the railing, staring out at the park. I felt him next to me, the heat of his body against my skin. “I really needed this money,” I confessed softly.
“Before we go any further”—he tilted his head to meet my eyes—“are you good?”
The sincerity in his eyes lulled me into a sense of security I hadn’t felt with anyone but him.
He always had this gift of making me feel seen, even when I was purposely hiding from the world.
Another of his superpowers was that he was a good listener.
Honestly, our friendship was next-level.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss that. But …
I couldn’t share my financial woes with Wes. Right?
No, I didn’t hate him. but I also didn’t like him either. I definitely didn’t trust him. Yet, there was a part of me that missed the effortless way we once were with each other.
Swallowing a lump in my throat, I averted my gaze. “None of your business.”
“Okay,” he relented. “I know the past is long and wide between us, but I never wanted to hurt you. And I don’t want anyone else to hurt you.”
“Wes, we can’t talk like what happened between us didn’t happen either. But like I said … I really need the money.” Closing my eyes, I sent up a silent prayer of thanks. “Thanks for delivering the message.”
“No problem.”
I shot him a sidelong glance. “We’re still not friends.”
He chuckled. “I got it. Welcome back.” He held out his hand. “Let’s get to work.”
Staring at his outstretched hand, I retreated a step. And only one step because the space was so small. “Wait a minute …” The half smile, half smirk on his lips made my stomach do an odd but familiar flip. “I’m back but not for you.”
“You kinda are.” He hunched a shoulder. “I mean, you’re trying to find out who Ms. Tea is, and that directly impacts me.”
“Even so, I work for Granny,” I argued.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, ignoring me. “Did you eat cereal this morning?”
“No.” I groaned. “I mean, yes. I had cereal. And I’m not hungry.”
He walked to the patio door and slid it open. “Sure?”
“Did you hear me?” I followed him into the house. Bri and Kay were still at the kitchen table. “I just told you I’m not here for you.”
“I’ll meet you at the condo at three. I’m sure you already know where Batchelor Place is, but the address and the details of the lease are in the envelope I gave you.” He glanced over my shoulder and waved at my friends. “I’ll see you both at the wedding shower.”
“Bye!” Bri and Kay sang in unison.
Traitors. “Wes, I mean it,” I said. “I’m not working with you.”
“Have you thought about an interview?”
“What interview?”
“The one you should’ve done with me a long time ago,” he replied.
“I don’t need to talk to you.”
Ignoring me yet again, he said, “We should catch up. Not just in bite-sized interactions. We need to talk.”
“Yeah”—I shook my head—“no. We don’t need to do that.”
“See you at three, Bug.”
“But—”
The door slammed before I could finish my sentence, and I stood there for a moment.
I clenched my fists, let out a heavy sigh, then turned around.
When Bri opened her mouth, I held up a hand.
“Don’t say anything.” I shook my head. “Granny didn’t accept my resignation.
I’m moving out today.” I stomped toward my bedroom. “No questions.”
As much as I needed to talk about everything, I wasn’t sure I could because … What the hell just happened?