I lean back in my seat, knowing I’m making a bigger deal about this than I need to. It will more than likely be a waste of time, but Mickey is right. This serial case I’ve been working has been cold for months, and fresh eyes might lead to the tip we need to solve it. It isn’t like I’m making any difference here anyway.
“Fine,” I grumble, feeling dejected that it took her kicking me in the ass to get me out of my own way.
“I knew you’d come around.” Her smile is genuine when she looks over her shoulder and gives me a wink, proof she expected this outcome the entire time. “I’ve heard the host is pretty cute, and she doesn’t seem to mind the shit we have to deal with.” She doesn’t give me a chance to respond to her parting words as she flees my office, but that doesn’t mean I don’t glare at her back. Getting dating advice from a woman who has been single for the better part of the ten years I’ve worked with her is rich.
Accepting defeat, I click on the email with my travel details. I might as well figure out what I’m doing since there’s no way I’m getting out of this interview.
I spend a few hours going over some notes I could probably recite in my sleep and printing out a few sets of documents to share with the interview team. If I have to do this, I might as well do it right, and after reading the correspondence between their team and one of our public relation specialists, I have a little more hope that this isn’t going to be a waste of my time.
Before leaving for the day, I make a detour to Mickey’s office, but the door is closed and the office is dark. I glance down at my watch, making sure I didn’t lose track of time. She’s usually the last person to leave, and it’s barely after six.
“She left about an hour ago.” The voice comes from behind me. I turn to find Darcy standing near her desk a few rows over.
“Thanks. I’ll catch up with her next week.” I nod in her direction before heading back toward the elevator. Things have been a little tense between us since she asked me out and I refused. I’ve only dated one other person I worked closely with, and that was a disaster. I vowed to never do it again. I tried to tell Darcy it wasn’t personal, and that I have certain guidelines that work best for me, but I get why she took it as in insult to her. It’s hard not to make shit personal. Maybe I’d give dating her a try if I felt a real connection between us, but I don’t, which probably says more about me than her. You’d be hard pressed to find anyone who didn’t think Darcy was beautiful. She has a sharp sense of humor I enjoy, but she just isn’t worth the risk to me, and that says it all. Dating her to see where it could go would be a waste of time for both of us.
“Have a good trip,” she calls to my back, her tone a little flat. I try not to think too hard about how and why she knows I’m going out of town. I’d much rather assume the topic came up organically in the office than think she’s been asking around about me.
Before heading home, I call in an order to my favorite restaurant. There’s no point in cooking if I won’t be around to eat the leftovers, and besides, I still need to pack for tomorrow. At least it’s a short flight from D.C. to Detroit. The drive to Muskegon is longer, but I’m not complaining. I’d rather drive than land in some tiny city airport with only one runway. My only regret is not paying closer attention to the time frame, apparently the show does most of their recording on the weekend, and I’m not scheduled to return to D.C. until midweek in case they need any pickups or edits, meaning I will be gone for nearly a week—just another reason why dating right now is a joke. Everyone thinks they will be okay putting up with my erratic schedule, but canceled plans and missed dates get old for everyone really quick. I feel like I’m always having to make upfor something, and they feel like I’m putting work first. It’s a recipe for disaster.
Thankfully, I’m not the only one who prioritizes my work, and there are other people who don’t have the time or desire for a relationship right now, meaning we can scratch an itch when the need arises. Chloe has been that person for me for a little over a year. We usually meet up every couple of months at her place. She has a dog and already travels a lot, so she likes to be home as often as possible. We have well established rules. No dates, no sleepovers, and most importantly, no feelings. It works well. Thinking about her reminds me she called me last week and left a message about getting together soon.
After I park my car in front of the Szechwan Palace, I fire off a text, letting her know I’m out of town for several days and asking if Thursday next week works for her to meet.
Her reply is almost instant and consists of only a few words:My place at 9.Direct and to the point. I catch myself wondering if she had a shitty week too before letting the thought slip away. Everyone’s week is shitty at some point. She’ll deal with it like she usually does. Maybe she’ll tell me about it, and maybe she won’t. Sometimes it’s nice to have the ear of someone who understands the garbage we have to deal with. Her job is different than mine, but we both spend our days hunting monsters.
I feel a little lighter when I head into the small restaurant. Looks like I just needed to know I was going to get laid to put me in a better mood. Funny how that works.
CHAPTER 4
Harlyn
Livy’s face pops up on my phone screen, and my first thought is,Did I miss a text from her?Without hesitation, I tap the green icon, followed by the button for speakerphone. “Harlyn Jaymes Wade.” Her tone is too soft and cool.
I mouth a curse before responding, “Olivia Nicole Donolly.”
“Would you like to tell me why I went into your room to look for a razor and found your closet strangely bare?” Oh man, she sounds too calm. She’s really pissed.
“Why did you need a razor?” I deflect, trying to buy myself time. I was hoping to tell her in person when she came out here next week, but it looks like the cat is out of the bag. I didn’t think she would find out, especially since she spends so much of her time at Parker’s, but Liv isn’t exactly known for respecting boundaries—not that I’ve ever created them with her.
“You’re changing the subject,” she snaps, and that feels a little better than the iciness from before.
I let out a heavy sigh before getting up and walking over to the large window. The sky is gray and moody, just like my friend. “I was going to tell you when you came out. I’m staying here for the summer.”
I brace myself for her to yell and demand that I come home right now, but my confession is met with silence.
“I was hoping you would stay here with me… after your internship,” I hastily add, but the silence from her stretches. “Liv?” I whisper.
Her heavy exhale serves as the only evidence that she’s still on the line with me. “When did you pack up your stuff?” I hear the hurt in her voice.
“When I first booked the rental.”
“That was over a month ago!” she exclaims.
“I needed a change, Liv. I feel like I’m drowning there.”
I hear her suck in a breath, as if she’s going to say something harsh, but she pauses for a second, then she continues softly, “I get it, Har. I miss her too, and I know it isn’t the same. She was your sister and just my best friend, but you could have talked to me.”
“You would have tried to talk me out of it,” I defend.
