Ford: I’m taking a rain check on that. Mark my words. But the favor is this—I ordered a special plant for tomorrow night’s opening. It arrived earlier today. I’d rather not leave it unattended on my porch all night.
Skylar: There has been a rash of plant thieves in the neighborhood. You really can’t be safe enough.
Ford: It needs water, Skylar. I won’t be home till after midnight.
Skylar: So it needs water to activate the poison? How much? Be precise. Be very precise.
Ford: Unfortunately, going to prison for poisoning would make it hard to win the Cup in my final season. However, I am not above being an asshole, so I found a plant that smells like cat pee.
Skylar: I could kiss you for that. Nope. Let me revise that—I could get on my knees for that.
Ford: That image will be indelibly etched in my head even when I hit the ice in an hour. But for now, can you water it?
Skylar: Of course. The pee plant must be cared for like it’s a precious thing till tomorrow night. I will water it with a dropper all night long if I have to.
Ford: Just a quarter cup should do. Also, you can leave it in the metal bin on the front porch. The one for Styrofoam recycling. That way, critters won’t be able to nibble on it. Just don’t bring it inside.
Skylar: Yes, Ford. That was clear.
I’ve already poured the water from the sink, and I’m racing up the steps to his home when an idea lands. One nearly as nefarious as Ford’s. Or maybe more nefarious. But it’s good to be sure things work. I water the plant,double back to my house, and take care of one last pre-revenge detail.
On Saturday night, I’m feeling almosttoo hot. This outfit is a little…how shall we say, in your face? The shorts are short, the corset is tight, and there’s so much skin on display. I really should see if this is what my friends meant.
But right when I’m about to convene an impromptu meeting on my phone, I stop. I can hear Mabel’s voice, loud and bright in my head. “You’d better look edible.”
Then Trevyn calling Ford ahot-ass man.
Maybe theirs aren’t the opinion I want. Maybe they’re not the ones I’m dressing for. The hot-ass manis.
I text Ford.
Skylar: Can you tell me if these shorts are too short for tonight? I can take a pic.
Ford: The answer is there’s no such thing as too short. But how about that hot tub peep-show rain check? Go to your kitchen window right now, and I’ll check from the hot tub level.
A stupid smile spreads across my face. This is the kind of game I want to play. With a breathlessness I didn’t expect, I head downstairs and rush over to the window. I pace back and forth, like I’m playing Pin the Tail on theDonkey, trying to find the spot where he can see me best when a text lands.
Ford: I was right. Also, wear heels.
I was right too. He’s not too sweet at all.
The pee plant doesn’t smell terrible as we walk to Games People Play, but we are outside.
“Are you sure this works?” I ask, peering at the small plant in the terra-cotta pot. It’s a shockingly pretty plant. But that’s typical, I suppose. Pretty things can be deadly.
“I’m not a botanist, but if you’d like, I can stop by Landon’s store in a week and check.”
“You really would do that?”
He stops at the corner, studies my face, and nods. “I would, Skylar. I would.”
Goosebumps erupt across my skin. “You’re hot when you’re evil.”
His lips curve, and he never takes his eyes off me as he says, “Same for you, Skylar. Same for you.”
As we walk, I can feel his eyes on me the whole time. Yes, I’m glad I dressed for him, because I like how I feel right now. Pretty and deadly.
23
