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“No. You need to focus on what you’re doing with your life right now. And so do I.”
He covered his face. “You’re so hard. Why didn’t you fucking come with me in the first place?”
I finished my wine and sat the glass down. “Enough of this. I’ve been through a lot.” I climbed on top of him and cupped his face. “I’m sad you’re leaving too.”
Then I kissed him. By the time he left in the morning, Iwas a little sore and beginning to wonder if maybe I should follow him—not right away but perhaps later…
Friday wasmy day to visit Ms. Margie. She was dressed up, with makeup on, and looking as cute as a button.
“What do you think, dear, about springing me out of here for an hour?” she said.
“Yes, ma’am. Do we need to sneak out a back door?”
“No. I better sign their damn book and promise to be a good girl. Come on, I’m ready.”
Well, it turns out I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into. Ms. Margie could barely walk using a cane and teetered dangerously when anything like a curb or step got in the way. She waved away my worries and told me I was doing fine. Luckily for us both, she was light enough that I could leverage her in and out of my car.
All in all, though, it was a successful first outing. We went to the library, and a little alternative grocery store where we both bought a whole lot of different snacks.
When I got her back into her apartment she collapsed in her chair, her eyes fluttering closed. I put her things away, as best I could. Then I crouched in front of her and took her hand.
“All right, Ms. Margie?”
She patted my cheek. “I’m fine. That was very nice.”
“Well, I’m looking for things to do next week. See you on Monday?”
“Sounds good, dear. Don’t be too naughty this weekend.”
“I’ll be just naughty enough.”
She chuckled. I made sure she had her cane, phone, water, snacks, and the television remote nearby before I left.
I met Amber for lunch at a little French bistro café I’dbeen wanting to try. She bustled in and over to our table, a big smile on her face.
“Guess who has a date,” she said.
“Lady Gaga?”
“Marcus wants to go out tonight.” She grinned at me toothily.
“Well, eat some food before you float away. Tell me everything, after we order.”
Our seafood was delicious. Amber’s plans for her date seemed nice. There wasn’t an entirely rational reason for it, but I didn’t think Marcus was going to be in the picture long and I didn’t trust him. He was too much of a smooth-talking ladies’ man.
She had to get back to her office for a meeting, so we hugged and said goodbye. I stayed at the table, sipping coffee and staring out of the window at the river.
My little burner phone pinged with a text. I picked it up and flipped it open.
Hank: That photo of you and Clint is a big fucking screw up. Are you trying to get yourself killed?
Hank: You’re not wasting a damn second are you?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ishot to my feet, grabbed my purse, and stalked out of the café. Luckily, I’d already paid for lunch. Nostrils flaring and my teeth probably bared, I stomped over to the path by the river.
Most of the time, I’m a pretty even tempered and tolerant person. But Hank Bridger was pushing me over the edge. I plopped myself down on an empty park bench and pulled out my phone.
