Rae
SO.HERE WE ARE, just me and my two very drunk sisters, toting our still-damp masterpieces as we climb into Grant’s gigantic truck. I feel like a teen who stayed out past curfew.
“Look!” Otty shoves her painting into Grant’s face.
“Nice. Very… classic.” He throws me a look that I feel right where that vibrator sat for half the night.
“Not as good as Rae.”
“Rae’s is amazing!”
“The teacher gave it a name!” Hannah says. “Juxta—”
“Juxtaposition!” Otty yells. She clearly drank a lot more wine than I did.
“May I?” Grant tries to get a look at the painting, which, in my mind, shall forever be known asOrgasm #2.
Since he’ll see it eventually, I turn it around.
“Nice.”
“You should see her book nooks!”
“Otty, please,” I beg.
“Book nooks?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“All right. Let’s get you all home.”
We climb in.
“Why is it you have a truck like this if you’re a corporate consultant?” asks Hannah with the narrow-eyed intensity of a prosecutor at a murder trial. Even drunk, Hannah’s as sharp as a tack.
“I do construction. On the side.”
“You build things?”
“Renovate.”
“You should stop by my place sometime. All the half-fixed crap could use an intervention.” His only reply is a smile, and she goes on. “So, that’s your hobby?”
He shrugs, slides me a secretive look, and says, “One of them.”
Otty snuffles and lolls against the back window, fast asleep.
“Huh.” Hannah leans forward. “Like what do you renovate?”
“The building we work in,” I tell her.
“Really? What else?”
“I’ve also got a property in the Fan.”
“You’re flipping it?”
“I live there.” He sucks in a slow breath. “For now.”
