JAKE
Sorry. Busy right now.
Before all the relationship thoughts, I would have assumed Jake meant exactly what he said. I wouldn’t have given it another moment of my time. But the uncomfortable tightening in my stomach meant that might not be the case now. What did he mean he was busy? Was he really busy or was he trying to avoid me? If he was trying to avoid me because of some kind of imagined jealousy thing, did I even want to talk to him?
Sending him Jackson’s name was meant to help him. It was supposed to make something he hated easier which is part of what I did every day. I made people’s spaces function better and made them beautiful at the same time. Granted, it wasn’t usually with something as intimate as clothing, and Jake hadn’t exactly asked for my help, but that didn’t mean he should freeze me out, if that was even what he was doing. I hated that I didn’t know and hated that I’d probably spend the afternoon dwelling on it. I was fucking busy too, dammit.
ME
No problem. Let me know if you need help with anything. Otherwise I’ll see you at Ford’s party.
The party was only ten days away. I could handle that. I’d find an assistant, conquer my many projects, and go back to thinking of Jake as a passing thing and not my first thought when I woke up in the morning. Piece of cake.
JAKE
Catch you later.
It wasn’t the first time he’d said that, so why did my stomach tighten like it was the last?
29
“Hey, Chickpea, what’s up?” I sank onto the sofa as my sister made a face on the tablet.
“You know I hate it when you call me that.” The nickname came from an unfortunate homemade hummus phase she’d gone through in high school. She assumed recipes were just suggestions and had made some questionable substitutions for the garbanzo beans, including one with peanuts that ended up being just like the organic peanut butter the whole foods market sold, except according to Mom, it cost twice as much to make and did irreparable damage to the food processor.
“Which is why I remain so determined to use it.”
She didn’t bother to try to hide her eyeroll but she smiled too. “Not much. Busy and tired, but everything’s good.”
“Great. Scott and the kids?” Brick pressed himself against my leg and gazed longingly at the couch. I should say no, the same way I should have taken him back to the shelter after our run, but I wasn’t going to do either. I patted the spot next to me, and he leapt onto the cushion, turning himself around in a circle before collapsing in a ball. He stretched his neck out to put his head on my thigh, and I stroked the soft fur behind his ears.
“Scott’s fine. The kids, on the other hand, really are gremlins. You won’t believe what they did while I was at the zoning meeting.”
My sister and her husband were high school sweethearts. They married young and had three boys in rapid succession. It made the kids close enough in age to work as a team for anything nefarious they decided to get into.
“I can’t imagine.” I stroked Brick’s head, grinning to myself as I waited for her to recount the latest shenanigans.
“They set up a pulley system using the Erector set and climbing ropes you got them for Christmas last year—thanks a lot for that, by the way,” she said, not sounding grateful at all.
I sent my nephews raw materials under the guise of science sets and how-to books about building things like trebuchets from chopsticks and rubber bands with the assumption that the trouble they gave my sister made up for all the times she forced me to act as a mannequin for her fashion design dreams. Seeing straight pins still spiked my blood pressure.
“Cool. They didn’t hang anyone, did they?” I considered the possibilities.
“No, thank God. They sprayed furniture polish on the floor and hooked up a harness to slide the dog back and forth from one end of the room to the other.”
“Well of course. You’d need the polish to reduce friction.” I managed to choke back a laugh but not before Amanda heard it.
“It’s not funny. Do you know how hard it is to get furniture polish off floors? Scott almost killed himself going to the kitchen that night. He forgot it was there, hit the slick patch, and did his ownRisky Businessimpersonation.” She paused, her hand over her mouth, stifling a chuckle. “Okay, maybe it’s a little funny.”
This time I did laugh. Brick lifted his head and let out a low woof, eager to get in on the action.
“What is that?” my sister asked, going on alert. “Was that a dog? Did you get a dog?”
“I did. Hold on a second.” I flipped the camera to show Brick sprawled against my leg, head up and tongue lolling.
“What a sweetie! What’s his name? Boy or girl? Such a sweet baby!” She cooed into the tablet, her voice rising in pitch.
Brick tipped his head to the side, listening.
