Shit. My ears burned. “No, not advice. I’m saying you stand out. Your personality, your hair, your colors. Own that. It’s a part of who you are.”
She blinked a few times again and gave me a shy smile. “That was nice, Fritz.”
“It can happen once or twice.”
She laughed and held out a card to me while she chewed on the side of her lip and bounced on her feet.
“Why are you nervous?”
She clicked her tongue. “I’m not. Maybe. Just…open it. It’s for you. A payback. A thank-you.”
“Hm, all right.” I tore open the paper and pulled out a thank-you note with green ivy doodles all around it. It was on a brown, recycled-type paper, and a gift card fell out. “Uh, why did you get me a gift card?”
“Read it first!” she yelled, making me grin even harder.
It had been years since anyone had given me a gift or written me a note. My cheeks burned as I read her loopy handwriting. She wrote how leaves grew off stems—messy and pretty and organic looking.
Dear Fritz—thank you for so much. Showing me so many things a normal twenty-two-year-old should know. The lake, the farmer’s market, the store…you’ve changed my life. Now I want to change yours.
You eat so many sweets. All the time. But this place is known for vegan desserts that will make you weep. Enjoy.
N
“This is for spotting me the cash at the market. And just being a good friend, even though you’re probably paid to do that.” Her eyes were downcast, and she pushed her hands behind her back, refusing to look at me.
“Thank you, Nora. This is nice.”
“Of course. I hope you eat there. Angelica at the foundation was telling me about it and how she wants to use them as the desserts at the big gala coming up, and she sent me there to taste test them. I almost cried.”
“She sent you to taste test?” My warm feeling went away thinking about my mom’s go-to gal when she was out of town. They had never once done a taste test in all the years my mom threw galas. Not once. This made me uneasy. “What else did she have you do?”
“Go select paper for the flyers, even though I believe our campaign should be on social media. We should go paperless for the entire event. Silent auction, raffles, tickets in the door. She insists she has that part under control,” she said, her tone didn’t agree with the stubborn set of her chin. It was clear as day that she disagreed with Angelica.
“Have you proposed the social media campaign?”
“Yes. Of course. I have this whole proposal together about a new look with a cleaner tagline and how to engage people online instead of just telling them information.” She huffed a bit and took a step back, farther into the foyer. “When I get this damn money to start my own place, I won’t have to try to convince people it’s a good idea. No one cares to know that I’ve helped my parents’ modest charity grow their platform.”
“What else do they have you doing there during the day?” I asked, feeling a throb at the back of my head. It annoyed me because I would’ve done the same thing Angelica was doing—giving the heiress pointless work to keep her busy. Nora was more than an airhead though. Her ideas were creative and had merit. “Could you try another department besides marketing?”
“Mrs. Carter arranged for me to be there, so I imagine other departments will not be thrilled with the prospect of me being put there. It’s…fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” She pursed her lips and jutted her thumb over her shoulder. “I should head back. I’m reaching out to Anthony again.”
“I have another date lined up for you.” I changed the subject, plotting for a way to get more information from Angelica without letting Nora find out who I was for real. “You down to get drinks tomorrow?”
She narrowed her eyes and tapped one finger on the side of her black dress. “The last one didn’t really go as planned. Not sure if these night outs are helpful for me.”
“It’s all part of the experience. Plus, it’ll show your parents you’re giving this a genuine shot, right?” I pushed off the door frame, holding the note and gift card close to my chest, and needed her to say yes. I couldn’t explain why I desperately wanted her to agree to this date. Partially because no one gave her a shot at the foundation, or the fact she was going to try to emailAnthonyagain. She needed a distraction in more ways than one.
“Tomorrow.”
“Yes. Whiskey Rose.”
“Will you be there too?”
“Nope. You’ll meet him there. I can drop you off if you want. And pick you up if you’re more comfortable,” I said, about ready to smack myself because what was I going to do? Sit in the parking lot like I was my dad waiting for me to get out of track practice? I scoffed but didn’t take it back. “Your call, Nora.”
“You’re being quite nice and really want me to do this. Why?”
“I think,” I said, taking a breath to buy an extra second, “you need to prove yourself at the foundation, and instead of being by yourself at night, you should experience things before you go back to living in your palace and plant world. You’ve missed a lot being sheltered. Not trying to harp on you, but you have. That’s the truth.”
