Home.
Thiswas the place I was most comfortable.Thiswas the place where I instantly relaxed. Turning on my phone, I ignored the notifications lighting up the screen and pressed a couple of buttons as I moved out of everyone’s way and posted up by the outside wall.
“Hey baby sister,” my brother answered. “You good?”
“Why wouldn’t I be good?” I asked suspiciously, perching on one of the suitcases.
“Because you’re callin’ me in the middle of a workday?”
“That’s fair,” I conceded, watching the travelers around me meet up with friends and family.
“Always glad to hear from you, Harp,” he said with a smile in his voice. “What’s up?”
“Well, I just got into town, but I don’t want to pay for a cab or a rideshare because I lost my fucking job,” I replied in one breath.
There was silence on the end of the phone for a long moment.
“All right. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“I have bags. Two bags. Big ones.”
“I’ll borrow someone’s rig. See you soon.”
As soon as he’d hung up, I made sure my phone was on silent and stashed it in the bottom of my purse again. I didn’t want to deal with anything on there until I’d had a minute to get my feet under me.
If you couldn’t rush home and cut off all contact with the outside world, what was the point of home anyway?
It was closer to thirty minutes later when a large SUV pulled up to the curb and a familiar head of long dark hair popped out of the passenger window.
“Harp! Gray says you got canned!” my brother’s girlfriend yelled, grinning at me.
I flipped her off as I rose from my perch. “Glad to see you, too!”
“Are you kidding?” she screeched, leaning further out the window as Gray rounded the SUV and headed my way. “I’m fucking stoked you got fired! Now you can stay here where you belong.”
“Say it a little louder,” I complained as Gray pulled me into his arms, his biceps wrapped tightly around my head.
“How you doin’?” he asked, kissing the top of my head.
“Mostly pissed,” I replied as he let go. “Sad. Annoyed. Worried.”
“You fuck up at work?” He led the way over to the car, pulling both of my suitcases.
“No, I did therightthing.”
“No good deed…”
“Yeah, no shit,” I complained, throwing open the back door as he loaded the luggage.
“So, what happened?” Frankie asked, turning to see me from the passenger seat.
“You want the long version or the short version?”
“Short version—you can tell me the long version later when we’ve got booze.”
“Well,” I said, closing myself in the car. I waited until Gray was in his seat to continue. “Basically, I wouldn’t cook the books for the company who’d hired us, and I couldn’t get ahold of my boss to tell her. I quit the job this morning, and my boss finally decided to call me back when I was at the airport and told me to go back and fucking grovel.”
“No shit?” Gray asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror as he pulled into traffic.
