Page 22 of Breathe Me In

I started the engine and thought about her text. She’d been keeping her distance from me, and I was happy with that.

Bradley: Not a good day. Rain check?

Sherry: I know how your days get. Dinner will be ready at six.

Bradley: Another day.

Another text came through, and I switched over to that chat.

Bree: I think I might have found something.

Bradley: Where are you?

Bree: Just got to Velvet Nightclub

I was just down the road from her, so it would be easy.

Bradley: Stay there, I’ll come to you.

I took the next turn and headed in her direction. With my arm on the edge of the open window, I felt the cool northeastern autumn day refresh my hot skin. I squeezed my water bottle and sucked some Gatorade down my throat, then tossed back some peanuts for protein.

My phone rang, and I saw it was Mom.

“Hey.”

“Hi, honey.” Her voice rang through the speaker. “Sherry just confirmed she’s picking Ginger up tonight. Okay?”

Fuck me.

“No, I have Gin for three more days.” Was that why she wanted to have dinner, so she could pick up Ginger early? Ginger wasn’t even her dog to begin with. I had gotten her when I knew I was spiraling, and I was only being nice by sharing her.

“Must be a misunderstanding, hon. Maybe just give her a call.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that later. Thanks, Mom. I’ll see you.”

As I drove, my mood took a dive. Sherry knew what Ginger did for my head. She was my buddy, the one that never judged or cared if my day sucked. She was just there for me. The past week I’d noticed that Sherry had been messing with me through her. I had no idea why, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with it.

When I spotted Bree’s truck, I parked as close as I could. I couldn’t help but slam the door as I left. It made me feel a little better, but the anger still simmered as I met Bree outside the nightclub. “Tell me you actually got something and are not just chasing some bullshit lead.”

“Wow.” She shifted her bag on her shoulder. “So, you’re in a good mood.” She studied my face and whistled.

“Sorry.” I rubbed my head. “Been a day.”

“I thought hockey helped you de-stress?”

“How did you know I played today?”

She smiled wide. “Because you smell like hockey.”

I did? I sniffed my arm. “Is it a bad smell?”

“No.” She pulled out her phone. “It’s just your hockey smell.”

“I didn’t know that,” I muttered and wondered what else I had that I wasn’t aware of. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“I was just poking around. I could have met you somewhere else, but since you’re here . . .” She opened the door, and I followed behind, taking a moment to enjoy her backside, and all thoughts of Sherry went out of my head. “What do you see?”

“I see the coat room, the ID checkpoint, today’s shipment of”—I turned the box around—“Grey Goose.” I looked at her, not sure what she was getting at.