“What’s a coat tree, anyway?” Audrey asks. “Or is that a euphemism I’m not aware of?”
I chuckle. “It’s a tall wooden pole, kind of, with hooks on it. People put them in foyers and hang their coats and hats on them.”
Audrey nods, adjusting the ribbon in her hair. “Oh, yeah. I know what you’re talking about. My parents have one. I’ve only ever heard them called a hall tree, though.”
“Are you getting into coats all of a sudden?” Astrid asks, scooping rice up with her fork. “Or is this another project?”
“Project, of course.”
My friends exchange a glance that can easily be read ashere she goes—theshemeaningme—and that’s fair. I’m always getting myself into one project or four hundred. Luckily, my friends understand my artistic quirks and indulge my big ideas… even though they probably think I’ve lost my mind most of the time.
“But my vision may or may not come to fruition because the woman who has the perfect coat tree has decided it’s worth a small fortune.” I huff. “It’s in a backyard barn. She’s not even using it, yet she won’t sell it to me at a reasonable price. Hell, if I pay her what she wants, I won’t have a house to put it in. It’ll be me and the perfect coat tree living in my car. So sad.”
“It may hold sentimental value,” Audrey says as if getting attached to a piece of pine is normal behavior. “Maybe it was her grandmother’s, or her late husband hung his cap there every night after work.”
“Yeah, or she might be trying to get rich off me, Auddie.”
Astrid snorts. “There’s only one type of pole that you can get rich on, and I don’t think it’s an antique hall tree.”
“I’ll have to take a turn on that pole to afford this one if she doesn’t cut me a deal,” I say, groaning.
Audrey takes a drink of her Arnold Palmer. “You could always keep searching until you find a more affordable option. I’m sure there are others out there that will work just as well.”
“Audrey,” I say, giving her a pointed look that makes her smile. “I love you. Endlessly, really. But this isn’t a moment when I need you to be sweet and reasonable. I need you to ask me whose car we’re taking to go steal that coat tree tonight.”
“Let’s change the subject.” She shakes her head as if she doesn’t know whether to laugh or be scared. “How is the podcast going? Today’s episode was fantastic.”
I beam. “Thank you.” A bubble of excitement gathers in my stomach, making it hard to sit still. “So two fabulous things happened today. The first is that Mercy Marlow, drummer for Wildfire, accepted our request for an interview.”
“No way!” Astrid says, covering her mouth.
“Gianna, this is incredible. I can’t wait to listen,” Audrey says.
Astrid laughs. “Can you ask anything you want? Because I have a few questions I’d like to throw in the mix.”
“They said anything goes, so, yeah. I have open access to her.” I giggle, still stunned. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”
“Believe it.” Audrey places her hand over mine, her eyes shining with pride. “You deserve this, my friend.”
Gosh, I love how supportive my friends are. They are truly the best thing that has ever happened to me.
My eyes begin to grow foggy, but I’m not about to cry. I’m no sap.
“And the other very cool thing is that my producer told me that I’m in the running for the Thursday slot,” I say, dancing in my seat. I’m too pumped not to move, and I don’t care who is watching. The movement also helps segue the sappy feelings to more celebratory ones. “That’s like prime time for podcasts, guys. The big leagues.”
Astrid smiles. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Really?” I ask, laughing. “Because I am.”
“No. You’ve found your niche, and anyone with eyeballs can see that you’re perfect for this,” Astrid says. “Who are you running against?”
I take a breath and lick my lips. “It’s apparently between me andSports Takewith Drake Bennett.”
An amused grin slips across my cheeks. Even the man’s name is a vibe, leaving a taste on my tongue after it passes my lips. It’s too bad that he isn’t my type.
Astrid leans forward, her eyes crinkling in the corners. “Drake Bennett, huh? Gray listens to his podcast all the time. He says that Drake’s the only sports guy worth listening to because he really knows his stuff.”
“I will never tell Drake that,” I say, laughing.
