Of course she is. Devin, while a practical physiotherapist by day, is a mystical, sage-waving yoga teacher by night. Her apartment smells permanently of palo santo. While usually I don’t buy that the universe has some sort of plan for me, this time she might have a point.
“Three, huh?” I twist my lips and think on it. “It seems more like a cruel joke than anything else. We don’t get along.”
“Yet.”
I roll my eyes hard. “That’ll never change. I’m shocked that he hasn’t requested the publisher pair him with someone else. Maybe he’s keeping me on in order to torment me.”
“When do you see him next?”
“Saturday.” I tap my long nails on the bench, a nervous habit from high school. “It’s our first official day of work.”
“How about I come with you?”
“To the meeting?” I can’t hide my skepticism. “Thanks, but that would be really obvious, you know? Me bringing my friend? Like I need backup?”
“He doesn’t need to know I’m there. I can sit at a table and eat bread the whole time.” She holds up a hand in mock solemnity. “It’ll be hard, yes, but I’m willing to sacrifice myself for the greater cause.”
I burst into laughter, and her giggles join in. The image of Devin stationed at a nearby table, working through loaves while keeping watch, actually makes me feel better.
“As long as I’m not inconveniencing you,” I say.
“You’re not. It’s been a while since any of us have had a medical emergency, so I need to show support some other way.”
“Ugh. Knock on wood.” I settle for rapping my knuckles against the iron bench.
Knowing Devin will be close by during the meeting already makes me feel better. Maybe Noah and I will actually get along. Find neutral ground.
Even if we don’t, at least we’ll be making something awesome together. A book that will move both our careers forward. Then, when it’s done, I’ll never have to see him again.
“Thank you, Devin. A lot.”
“No problem.” She holds up her martini. “Cheers.”
“To what?”
Her eyes sparkle. “To this project. To what comes next, whatever it may be.”
Whatever it may be.
The words feel like a promise or a spell that will define my future. This project is full of opportunity—my ticket out of restaurant reviewing, which gets harder with my IC. The long dinners, not being able to use the bathroom when needed, having to eat trigger foods.
So it doesn’t matter how much Noah and I dislike each other. I’ll do what it takes to make this collaboration work.
Finished with our drinks, we stand up from the bench.
I hug Devin, breathing in her perpetual scent of lavender. “Thanks for hanging out. And for offering to come with me tomorrow.”
“Of course. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I walk back to my car, feeling more optimistic about tomorrow. The street is empty, silent except for my footsteps and distant waves. When I’m almost there—parked under the big oak—I hear it.
A crack. Sharp. Decisive.
A branch snapping behind me.
I jump and spin around, searching the shadows between buildings, the dark spaces under trees. Nothing moves. No one’s there. But I get the strange feeling that I’m being watched. The same feeling I’ve been having for weeks. Pine Island is always quiet after dark. I’m probably just being paranoid.
Just in case, I quicken my pace. My keys are already in my hand. I breathe a sigh of relief as soon as I get in and lock the doors.
