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By the time two o’clock rolled around, I was showered, dressed, and in my Starry Evans Dairy Farm uniform. In it, I felt a little more safe and protected, as if the polo shirt and khakis were a type of familiar armor.
Besides, if I were lucky, no one would ask me anything about Nolan or Wendy.
I went downstairs and to the side room used for admin duties. My brother Kyle sat there, saw me, and stood. He grunted. “Say the word, and I’ll give Wendy Webster a piece of my mind. I don’t give a fuck who she is. She messed with my little sister.”
I shook my head. “She’s not worth it. But maybe refuse to sell your cheese to any of her friends, and it’ll make me feel a little better.”
“Consider it done.” He shifted from foot to foot and pulled me into an awkward hug. Yeah, Kyle usually wasn’t a hugger.
But my tall, strong brother’s arms were warm and safe and always felt like home.
When he finally let me go, I smiled up at him. “Thanks, Kyle. For having my back.”
“Any time, sis. Any time.” He glanced at the clock. “Are you sure you want to run the tour?”
“Yes. I need to keep busy.”
“Well, I’ll be within earshot. If anyone gives you trouble, holler and I’ll come running.”
“Thanks.”
After a little more coffee, I put on a smile and went out to the main reception area, where my two o’clock group waited.
But as soon as I saw some familiar faces, my stomach dropped.
The Mean Girls of Starry Hills—Kristina, Jordan, and Lydia—were here.
Kristina smirked at me. “And look who showed up. Well, Fat Kat, it seems you have some claws after all, don’t you? Too bad you used them on the wrong person. Wendy Webster will destroy you.”
Jordan nodded. “She definitely will. And Nolan only dating you because of a deal makes a hell of a lot more sense. Why would he pick you when he could have Wendy?”
Lydia added, “I hope the rumor of Nolan and Wendy’s wedding being streamed is true. No doubt it’ll be magical. And soon they’d take over Hollywood.”
I curled my fingers into fists but bit my tongue as I counted back from ten in my head.
There were other customers in the group. And the last thing I needed was to feed the rumors about me being some uncontrollable, violent female with mood swings.
My voice was steadier than I’d thought as I asked, “Shall we begin the tour?”
Kristina whispered with her friends, but surprisingly, the trio kept mostly quiet as I went through my spiels.
By the end, I was calm and grateful that the other five tour members were polite and friendly. No one else mentioned Nolan, Wendy, or what had gone down.
But the peace was too good to be true. Because once the nice people left, it was just me and the Mean Girls.
One took out her phone and pointed it at me. I tensed, wondering what the hell was going to happen now.
Lydia had her hand inside her large purse. When she pulled it out, she had on a glove and a pile of fresh cow shit.
I tried to back away, but Lydia ran up and smashed it into my cheek. “That’s for Wendy Webster. And a reminder of where you truly belong.”
The three laughed at me.
Probably like the world did right now, too.
Tears pricked my eyes, so I ran all the way to my room and shut the door. I wiped off my cheek with a shirt, and then sat on the floor, propped against the wall, and did my best not to cry.
And failed. Laying my head on my knees, I sobbed. Quietly at first, but soon I couldn’t stop.
