I’m not worried. It’s a good neighborhood, and the chickens are good guard dogs.
Lucy
You treat your chickens like they have main character energy.
TJ
That’s because they do.
Hey! Maybe you should write a story about them
Lucy
You’re really not going to let that go, are you?
TJ
Not until you tell me the truth.
I spent an absurd amount of time on the internet last night trying to figure out if my hunch about Lucy is true. I have nothing to base my speculation on except for the way she looked at the retirement community when she was studying Titi and Arnold. It was like she was in another world and she’d already dreamt up entire backstories for them. That, and the guilty look that flashed in her eyes when I asked her about it. For a second, I really thought she was going to admit to being a secret author or something. But then she clammed up, and now I’m wondering if I imagined it all.
Still, it fits. If she came to the gala looking for inspiration, it could have been inspiration for a new book idea. I know I’m reaching, but I can’t help it.
Unfortunately, my hours of scrolling turned up nothing to support my hypothesis. Lucy Dupree’s online footprint pretty much starts and ends with her stepmother’s brand. I read a lot of old posts from the days following Lucy’s dad’s death. They’re heartbreaking, and my stomach clenches every time I think about Lucy, as a child, shouldering the loss of her only remaining parent. My protective impulses for her flared.
Most of Lucy’s public posts are collabs between her and her stepsisters, originating from their accounts. She never shared much herself. There’s nothing to indicate she has some sort of alter ego; no news articles speculating on her as a secret author. I might be barking up the wrong tree. But something tells me I’m not. I’m known for having good instincts on the field, and I feel like those same instincts are at play here.
I stow my phone when I get into a team meeting, but by the time we’re loading up the bus, I check it again to find another message.
Lucy
I don’t know what you’re talking about! But since you love your chickens so much, maybe you should write a book about them.
Interesting.I can’t type back fast enough.
TJ
Whoa, we’ve moved from a simple story to a full-on novel now, have we? Tell me more.
Lucy
I’m speaking hypothetically.
TJ
Hypothetically, but for real, right?
I run into Anton’s back. He stopped in the aisle of the bus. “Easy, killer,” he says and then furrows his brow. “Why are you smirking like that?”
I relax my face. “What? Like what?”
Del pops his head over my shoulder. “He’s texting Lucy.”
I tuck my phone into my sweatshirt pocket. “Dude. Is nothing sacred?”
“Did you have a nice time with her last night?” Anton asks, eyes twinkling.
I roll mine back at him. “Oh yeah, surrounded by two dozen old people. It was a rocking evening.”
