Drew’s hair is blondish, I guess. A little more on the brown side of blond but who am I to say so and ruin Drew’s smile? He’s practically as bright as the sun.
“Okay, enough fawning,” Renee says. “Let’s get down and dirty!”
I start by sharing my Pindmess board with them, showing them the vibes and feel. We talk about the name—which they both love—and how I want to source my books.
Bastian leans in close to look at my phone, his hand resting gently on my hip as he does. I pull in a little wavering breath, my chatter stuttering for a moment. Renee notices and smiles, but Drew is laser focused on the designs I’ve drawn over the before pictures I’d taken.
“This place is going to be amazing,” Renee finally says when I’ve gone through everything.
I just realize we’ve been standing here for twenty minutes, and I didn’t even invite them up…oh yeah, because there’s an altar of books in the living room and nowhere to sit.
“If you guys aren’t busy, you want to get lunch?” I ask. “We could chat more about the when and how. I’d pay, of course.”
“Yeah, that sounds great!” Renee says with way more enthusiasm than I would think could come out of a blue-lipped woman.
“I’ve got a quick check-in with another client in ten, but I’m open,” Drew says.
“Bastian? Lunch?” I ask hopefully.
He seesaws his head. “Well, if you’re paying.”
Renee loops her arm in mine and pulls me away. “I know a great burger joint down the street. Is that good?”
Drew sidles up to Bastian and I hear him ask what his gym routine is.
“Burgers?” Renee prompts again.
“Oh, uh, great,” I say, though it’s not as chipper as it should’ve come out.
“You don’t like burgers?” she asks.
“Come on, Cait. It’s just one buffalo wing. The chicken is already dead.”
I try not to grit my teeth at the intrusion, and wince-smile at Renee instead.
“I’m mostly vegetarian. Pescatarian some days. Not that I never ate meat, or that I hate everyone who eats meat!” I laugh nervously. “It’s two parts I don’t want to participate in how we handle animals before slaughter and one part my gall bladder despises me. I plan on having it ripped out one day, just to show it who’s boss here.”
She chuckles. “I get you. But they also do a Maplewood grilled trout that’s lake caught right here and it’sso good. You can get it in tacos, or as a burger, or a salad. Does that work?”
I guess with the right people, food differences don’t really get in the way at all…
I smile. “Sounds perfect.”
eighteen
Cramping My Style
Iwake to a sharp pain in my lower belly.
“Fuuuuuuuuck,” I groan pathetically.
My mattress is still mostly inflated, so I roll off the side and crawl toward the bathroom.
“Cait?” Bastian calls in the darkness from inside his circle of books.
“Nothing, just, ugh…go back to meditating or whatever,” I grunt out.
“You’re in pain,” he says, suddenly standing beside me.
