Page 44 of Joey

I scroll, scroll, scroll and finally find some.

In Japan a place like this is called a machiya. A traditional home with tatami mats and sliding shoji doors with rice paper windows. And there are lots of little rooms. It’s an historic place, so it took us a long time to get permits for renovation and a long time to finish it too.

I find the original pic before renovations, then scroll forward and find one after it was finished.

I send them both to Huck.

His phone dings and he says, “Yeah. This’ll be perfect,” when he looks at them. “Remember how happy Brooke was when that reno nightmare was finally over last year?”

I laugh. “Let’s not forget to remind her when they get back.”

“Speaking of which. They’ve been gone a while now. Should we text?”

“Huck,” I say. “This is Wald. He’s the most trustworthy, practical asshole we know.”

“True. But I saw the way he was looking at her. He likes her.”

“We all like her,” I say. “And I’m truly not her boyfriend. So… whatever.”

“I just can’t believe our luck, ya know? Finding her in the middle of this whole Maisy thing.” Then he sighs and looks down at the social posts he’s working on. “I’m really glad we’re doing this.”

“Lying to the Kane family?” I chuckle.

“No,” Huck says. Then his eyes meet mine. “Getting your daughter back.”

CHAPTER TWLEVE - BROOKE

Wald puts on classical music when we get in his car. Joey drives a brand-new Porsche. Which, for some reason, totally fits him. But Wald’s car is… not a car at all. It’s a big Ford truck.

“Interesting choice of wheels,” I say, buckling my seat belt.

“Yeah, so you know, if you want to bring any furniture along”—he shoots me with his finger—“I got you, Brooke.”

“I’m a pass on that. I bought my place furnished.”

“You did?” he says, pulling out of the parking garage. “So you really don’t need money?”

“Well, everyone can always use more money. But generally speaking, I’m good for now. I’m not doing this for the money.”

“For the friendship,” he says.

“I need people right now,” I say. And maybe it comes off a little sad. Possibly even desperate. But you know what? Why should I be ashamed that I’m lonely and want friends? All those self-help books are constantly telling me to be myself and, well, this is me. “Even though I just met you this morning we just have something that clicks, you know?”

“I do,” he says.

“Go left at the light,” I say. “I’m really not that far from here.”

“So what happened to your… other friends?”

“It was just over,” I say.

“Falling out?”

“No. But… yes. And…” And I think that’s all I should say. So I finish with, “But I got money out of it.”

I didn’t really have friends in my old life. I had a small team. But most of them had moved on before this current situation happened. And that was it. In my line of work once the job is over and the team dissolves, it’s done.

It was never about friendship, anyway. Or family. Not really. Not the kind of family these three guys have built.