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Whitney grinned. “Of course, I am. Like you could get out of it.”
I had the sinking suspicion this was going to take a lot longer than I wanted. Well, it had already taken longer than I wanted, so yeah. But honestly, Whitney seemed like she was looking forward to the whole thing.
Ridiculous.
Was it wrong to pray she found something fast so we could go have lunch together and then do something that wasn’t related to buying overpriced, single-wear dresses?
The saleslady brought me over a chair and I passed time between Whitney showing off dresses by browsing some of the bestseller lists on various online e-book retailers. There were so many independent authors out there, I’d love to have more of them in the store. I hadn’t run into any, so far, who weren’t excited about the prospect of having even one copy of their book on a physical bookstore shelf.
Finally, after what felt like the whole day but was really only a little over an hour, Whitney landed on a navy-blue gown covered in so many sequins and little faux diamonds that she’d probably be visible a half-mile before she actually entered the room. But it looked great on her and she clearly loved it, so it worked.
We stowed our garment bags in the trunk of Whitney’s car and agreed on hitting up Mia’s for lunch, since we were close.
When we were settled and the server had delivered our drinks, Whitney leaned forward. “So? Tell me how things are with you and Cody.”
I reached for my water and busied myself squeezing the lemon and stirring in the juice. “Good.”
“Really? That’s all I get? Things were weird for a couple of weeks—everyone noticed. Now you’re saying it’s good. Is it not working out?”
I glanced up, startled. “No. It’s good. We fixed things. He was freaking about the situation with his parents.”
Whitney nodded. “I can see that. It’s a big change, no matter how old you are.”
“Yeah. So, it shook him. Badly. But I think he’s coping. Ish. He’s at least not pushing me away to protect me from some hypothetical future where he divorces me anymore.”
Whitney snickered. “That’s…such a guy thing.”
Was it? I shrugged. “So things are good with us.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I still don’t know where to move. Austin and Kayla haven’t brought it up, thankfully, but I know they have a deadline to get out of their apartment by the end of the month and none of the options I can find—that I can afford—are places I want to live.”
“This area is such a strange mix of ridiculously high rent for nice places and equally ridiculous, but at least semi-affordable, rent in places where women shouldn’t live alone.”
“Exactly.” I paused to take a drink. “I was actually thinking I might see if Jenna wanted a roommate.”
“Isn’t she going to be basically camping in Noah’s remodel?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Is she? I missed that.”
“I think that’s what I remember her saying. Come January, she’s going to bunk there so she can work in her off hours.”
So much for that idea. Jenna—and Noah—would probably be fine with me joining her. But living in a construction zone sounded terrible.
“Why don’t you tell Austin you need more time?”
“I guess I’m going to have to. I just hate to make him sign another year on their lease when he probably won’t need the full year.” I pushed my fingers between my eyebrows. “Maybe I should just explain that they can move in and I’ll try to stay out of the way until I can find a place that makes sense.”
“Why can’t he pay for your lease someplace?”
“I’m sure he can, but I don’t want that. I can support myself. I don’t need a handout from my brother.”
“Sorry.” Whitney winced.
Maybe I should apologize for the harsh edge to my words, but I was tired of the implication that I needed bailing out. It seemed to come from all sides.
Rather than belabor the topic, I changed it. “We’re all going to Wes’s shop on Friday afternoon, right?”
