“To negotiate.”
“Don’t bother if it’s something ridiculous.”
“You and Chance McLanely can untwist your boxers,” Layla says. “I’m not going to shake him down for money or the family shares. All I want is the interview with him and his girlfriend for my podcast…”
“Okay, we can set that up?—”
“…Tonight.”
“—next week.”
“Next week?” Layla spits.
“Tonight?” I choke.
“Here you go, mister.” The bag boy hands me my grocery bag and is immediately engrossed in his phone again, oblivious to the world.
I stumble to the door. “Tonight won’t work.”
“Next week definitely won’t work,” Layla insists.
I open my car, hoping that the panic isn’t emerging too much in my voice. “Pick another time.”
“Fine. I’m free now.”
I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. “Layla, if tonight is too sudden, then right now definitely won’t work.”
“Why can’t we schedule it for tonight?” she argues. “The hockey team has that big game tomorrow and then after that the Lucky Strikers will start training for qualifiers. It’ll beimpossibleto nail Chance McLanely down before then.”
“It can’t be today. Any day but today.”
Layla pauses a beat. “He’s proposing today, isn’t he?”
Crap… how did she know?
“No, he isn’t,” I say quickly.
She scoffs. “Nat, you always talk too fast when you lie.”
“Layla…”
“I see what’s going on here. You sneaky men are trying to push me off so you can have a quickie proposal behind my back!”
I cringe. “McLanely already promised to do the interview. Just keep a low profile until he calls you.”
“Yeah, right. I already blackmailed him and his soon-to-be fiancée. You think he’s going to sit down and smile pretty for a podcast with me? I’m not an idiot, Nat. Unlike you, I don’t see the world in shades of glitter.”
This train is racing off the tracks fast. I struggle to salvage it. “Where are you? Let’s meet up. I’ll call McLanely too.”
“Forget it. I’m going to handle this my way.”
“Layla, what does that…” The dial tone sounds in my ear, “mean.”
I call her back.
She doesn’t answer.
One more try leads me straight to voicemail.
