Lane sighs. “Where’s Beck anyway?” she asks as she types.
Lane:
I wouldn’t want to miss it
“He’s doing some landscaping for the resort,” Noah answers.
Griff:
WHAT THE HELL
“Really?” I ask. I thought we hated the resort.
Lane:
@Griff at least you weren’t asked to convince Cruella she should come and claim what’s “rightfully” hers.
“It’s a tactic,” Noah answers me, his gaze on his phone, talking about Beck and the resort.
Noah:
Get your ass here. Time to stop hiding.
Griff:
WTF?
Beck:
You kinda walked into that one
Lane liked a message
Noah lifts his gaze from his phone. “Well, I think it worked. Let’s order from Chloe.”
“On it,” I say as I text my friend.
“Ugh,” Lane says, slapping her phone onto the table. “Gail wants me to go have achatwith her.” Frowning, she squints at the phone. “She said ‘Cocktails at the resort on them’ with a bunch of spiders and glass emojis. Uuuuugggggh.”
“Cocktails for lunch?” Noah grunts. “She must be in a state.”
I succeed only moderately in stifling my laughter. “That sucks, given you can’t even have a cocktail.”
She rolls her eyes. “My point exactly.” Then she looks down to her belly. “Come on, little pea, let’s go take down the evil stepmother.”
“That’s the spirit,” Noah says, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “You can do this.”
“I know,” she answers, tears in her eyes. “I take after you.”
Noah pauses for a beat, nods quickly, and says, “Take my car.”
My throat a little tight from the subtle family bonding that just happened through our texting, I answer the call coming in from Chloe.
“Do you want family style service?” she asks. “We could do a stuffed turkey breast with a side of morels and fingerling potatoes.”
“I just had lunch, but you’re making me hungry. Make that two. Or three. The boys will be here.”
“Even Griff?” she asks on an inhale.
