Instead, all I came up with was: “You too!”
And Iwavedat him after he’d already turned his back and walked away from us.
“Uber’s here,” Bucket Hat said, frowning a little. “I’m going to help you get settled.”
“It’s really not necessary,” Meredith said. “I’m fine.”
But of course, he didn’t listen and wound up hoisting her into what I realized was an UberX. He shut the car door and turned to where I was waiting on the crowded sidewalk.
“Can you let me know what they say about her ankle? I like to stay on top of what goes on here, injury-wise.”
A car waiting behind the Uber honked, and he flashed a friendly “one second” finger at it.
“Uh, sure,” I answered. “I’ll call the main number—”
“No, let me give you my cell.”
I pulled out my phone, and he recited it to me. My finger hovered over the screen since I couldn’t enter it under “Bucket Hat” with him staring me down. “What’s your name?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, that’s right; we didn’t even have a chance to introduce ourselves.” He held out his hand to me. “I’m Owen Miller.”
“Brooke Murphy,” I said as I slid my palm against his. “And that’s Meredith Waxman on injured reserve.”
“Hey, go easy on her the next time you play.” He smiled at me, and it reached all the way up to his dark eyes. “Sounds like you’re already lethal out there.”
I laughed at the thought of it. “Not even close. Lucky shot, that’s all. And now my instructor’s injured. I’m actually hopeless.”
The car honked again, and Owen started backing away toward the building, still smiling at me. “I could help you change that. It’s sort of what I do.”
“Maybe,” I replied quickly, because there was no way it was going to happen. “Anyway, thanks for everything.”
Owen raised an eyebrow as he pointed at me. “Text me about her diagnosis, okay? Good luck.”
“I will. Thanks again for your help,” I said. “We’ll figure out how to pay you back for the ride.”
“Stop, there’s no need.”
He stood on the sidewalk and watched the car like a worried dad as I got in.
Meredith had her head back with her eyes pinched shut when I slid next to her. She opened one to peek at me.
“I ruined everything. I’m so sorry.”
I reached out to put my hand on top of hers. “Oh, stop. It was an accident. And hey, we managed to make contact with Kai again. That’s worth a couple of hundred words at least.” I tapped my temple. “I recommitted his face to memory so now I can write Austin’s character description.”
She closed her eyes again. “I donotneed this injury. I’m so mad at myself.”
“You’ll be back on your feet in no time. I’m sure it’s just a sprain.”
I gave her hand a squeeze and looked out the window at theworld passing by. Spending a couple of hours at Urgent Care wasn’t on my bingo card either, but I had my notebook tucked in my bag, so I could jot down my thoughts while we waited. Because yay, I actuallyhadthoughts. The tiniest little embers of ideas were glowing within me.
Just a few minutes of Kai exposure was all it took.
A text buzzed in from my brother in our usual no-context-photo shorthand. It was a picture of an entire cooked fish, eyes and all, on a plate in front of many glasses of wine, with his hand giving a thumbs-up beside it. I texted back a close-up of Meredith’s purpling ankle. Whoever broke first and asked for an explanation lost.
Damn. Are you okay?
It’s Mere. We were playing pickleball and she tripped.
