“Clara, I can’t. I’m at work.” I laugh, breathless.
“See, that’s much more natural. Perfect. That’ll have Nat guessing.” Clara’s pride is audible.
I clear my throat. “Can I see you later?” I ask.
“For real or?”
“Yes. I’ll stop by the gallery?” Step one of the operation—a casual drop by at Clara’s work.
“Okay,” Clara answers definitively. “I’ll pretend to forget my dinner at home, can you come by with some take out to the gallery? I’ll introduce you to a few people.”
“Sushi?”
“Definitely that but what was Natalie’s favourite place?”
“Thai? From Sahla?”
“Mmm. Absolutely not.” Clara laughs. “But do you think she heard?”
I look down at the buckle on my knee-high leather boots and reach down, pretending to adjust it as I peek over my shoulder. Lisa is getting creamer out of the fridge as Natalie just stands rigidly in front of the kitchenette’s counter.
“I think so.”
“Okay. Big finish… ready?”
“Yeah.” I take a sip from my emotional support water bottle.
“I’ll see you later, honey. Love you.”
“I’ll see you later, honey.” I respond flatly.
“Wow, rude!” Clara exclaims.
I can’t help but laugh.
“C’mon say it.”
“You too. Bye.”
Clara’s mid-complaint when I hang up and tuck my phone into my bag. I sit straight in my chair, keeping my eyes focused on the wall in front of me until Natalie finally leaves, Lisa trailing after her.
Chapter Seven
Clara
I make my way to the apartment’s kitchen and find Jen yelling at the blender.
“God dammit!” She hits the top of it four times in a row, groaning out profanities. “This fucking thing never fucking works!” she yells over her shoulder at me.
I politely step around her, grab the cord, and plug it in. It starts instantly.
“Oh.” Her entire demeanour changes, suddenly a beaming ray of sunshine.
“Morning.”
“More like mid-day.” She pats my head like a puppy. “Work late?”
“Yeah, the printer sent the gallery’s invites uncut and it was too late to return them. So it was me and a paper trimmer up until almost three in the morning. I’m lucky I kept all my fingers intact.”
