“Sounds good.” That would give her a little time start at least one load of laundry.
Once home, Michaela went into cleaning mode and had just removed her clothes from the dryer when her friends arrived.
After filling their plates with the chicken fettucine alfredo and garlic bread, they sat around the dining room table eating for a few minutes.Three, two, one.
“Did you get a chance to see Hunter and is he still here?” Melanie asked.
Just like clockwork.“He came by Sunday morning.”
Lana and Melanie froze. “What?” they chorused.
Lana pointed her fork at Michaela. “That was almost a week ago and you’re just now telling us?”
“It was hard seeing him,” Michaela admitted. “Harder than I thought it would be.” She placed he fork on her plate. “You remember the new hospital wing Mr. Prescott donated?”
Both women nodded.
“Well, apparently, in his will, he left instructions that a mural be commissioned. He wants me to do it.”
“Ohmigod,” Melanie said with excitement. “Do you know how much that would propel your art career?”
“I don’t have an art career.”
“My point exactly. How much is he paying you?”
Michaela blinked. She hadn’t even asked or considered being paid. She figured she’d be donating her time. “I have no idea. I didn’t ask.” She forked up some pasta.
Lana snorted. “That would have been thefirstthing I asked. When do you start?”
“I haven’t agreed yet.”
“What do you mean you haven’t agreed to do it? You’ve been itching to get into the art field for years, and now that you have the opportunity, you’re getting cold feet.”
“I’m not getting cold feet, Mel. The commission comes with a big catch. I have to work with Hunter.”
“Ain’t that about a—” Lana cut herself off when Michaela frowned. “Yeah, I know, I know. I’m trying to do better. But I’ve been cussing more years than not, so it’s going to take a minute for me to get used to a cleaner mouth.”
She had to smile. Lana could curse a person out in a heartbeat, but she’d been making a concerted effort to cut it down because she didn’t want her two young nieces to pick up on her bad habit. But Michaela couldn’t be too hard on her friend in this instance, because she’d said more than a few curse words herself in the last week. “Him having to oversee the project means I’ll have to see him until it’s completed, and I still don’t want to talk to him.”
“I hope he gave you some reason why he bailed,” Melanie said. “I always thought you two were perfect for each other and, although I can’t blame you for being angry, I can tell that you still care about Hunter.”
“We didn’t talk about that. He said we’d talk about us another time. But I had to remind him there was no us.” There would never be anusagain. She couldn’t put herself through the same heartbreak twice, and definitely not with the same man, even if she did still had some lingering feelings deep down inside. They continued eating.
“This damn conversation is too much. I need wine instead of this lemonade.” Lana got up from the table and went to the kitchen.
“There’s a bottle already in the fridge. Bring me a glass, too,” she added.
Melanie laughed. “It’s a good thing I brought dessert, too—butter cookies.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“Bless you.” The butter cookies from the bakery came in at a close second to the blueberry muffins. Thinking about the muffins reminded Michaela that she needed to pick up a couple to take with her to LA.
Lana came back with the bottle and three wine glasses. She filled them and they finished the meal.
Later, they sat around eating cookies and laughing. “Oh, I forgot to mention that Mr. Prescott left me a letter,” Michaela said, sitting up straight.
“Oh, you forgot, my ass.” Lana rolled her eyes. “You’ve been the queen of secrets lately.”
“For somebody who’s supposed to be cleaning up her potty mouth, you’re doing a piss poor job.”
