Cat:So, what if you steal the art back?
It took me a while to consider this. I couldn’t do it alone, but I knew theperfectaccomplices.
Cat:Remember how I toldyou, whenBluewas stolen, that I should have thought to make you steal your own art sooner? I mean, look at what it’s done for the brand! You’re notorious.
Me:Unfortunately.
Cat:I think you all should steal them back. Work together. Clearly Nash is skilled at it.
Me:So you think I shouldn’t be mad at Nash and Bee, and team up with them?
Cat:No matter what he did, look what it’s done. You’ve improved more in the last week than you have in the last decade. He didn’t do it to hurt you on purpose, he didn’t even know you. They’re worried sick about you. They care. It’s obvious. You’re already a team.
Me:Yeah. I guess.
Cat:Nash has been texting me for the past hour. He’s afraid you’ve run away. He’s pleading with me to tell him where you are.
Cat:I’m melting over here. He’s using every angle he can think of to coerce me.
I shook my head, scoffing out loud.
Me:How often do you chat?
Cat:Just here and there. I like to check in without suffocating you.
Cat:I couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome for you. I love this!
Me:Ofcourse you do.
Cat:They care, Sybil. I told Nash you let me in on what happened. I told him you were okay and just getting some air. He’s just worried about you being out there alone and upset in the dark, as any decent man would be.
I didn’t reply, dropping my phone into my lap and taking a sip of my cocktail. My phone dinged. I looked down mid-sip.
Cat:I was worried, too! So, I’m sorry, but I shared your location with him a bit ago.
I choked on my drink.
Using my sleeve to dab my mouth, I looked up to scan my surroundings. I spotted him right away, as though my eyes were heat-seeking missiles. He wasn’t trying to hide himself from me, standing across the patio, watching me from outside the gate.
He stood leaning against a tree, hands in pockets, looking handsome and so,sovery worried. I knew what worried looked like, and he embodied it.
I pressed my lips together, annoyed but also not. His stubborn fighting spirit was admirable—still unwilling to let me fall, even now. Lifting my finger, I beckoned him toward me.
He pushed off the tree, looking down at the ground as he approached. He’d changed into jeans and wore a dark wool jacket and a hat on his head.
As he neared, Bill looked up and saw him. His ears perked, eyed lighting up. He got down from hischair to greet him, somehow knowing, or maybe wanting, Nash to sit down. Nash sat with a sigh but didn’t speak. He seemed rightfully sullen.
I finished the last of my drink, setting the glass down between us with a clatter. Bill re-situated himself on the ground at our feet, head on his paws.
“How do I get one of those?” Nash asked, motioning to my empty glass.
I pointed to the device on the table. He picked it up, scrolling through before selecting something and paying for it with his phone. He seemed intrigued by the explanation on the screen, the same one the server had told me.
With a nod and a smirk, he set the device down, and crossed his fingers in his lap.
“I’m sorry for following you like a stalker. I want you to have your space, but I was worried about you out here alone.”
“So I’m told,” I said flatly.
