She sees the bag on the counter and her face lights up. “You got Mexican food?”
“Yep, and it did exactly what I intended.”
She lets go of my hand and moves to grab plates out of the cabinet. “What’s that?”
“Make you happy.”
She sets the plates down and throws her arms around me. “That is why I love you.”
“I love you, too.” As more than a friend, but I’ll never tell her.
three
. . .
piper
Good God,why did I drink so much with Beau last night? It’s been a while since I’ve had a hangover, but I don’t remember it kicking my ass like this.
Thankfully, the office is mostly quiet. I can hear music playing from somewhere out front. It’s not enough to really bug me, though. It might be light jazz? Parker decided it was a good idea to have some sort of music playing when people come in to buy their wine directly from us. He was right, but I’ll never tell him that. Mostly because he doesn’t have my back when it matters.
My head feels like there’s someone banging on drums inside it. The knock on the office door doesn’t help matters.
“Come in.” Having to deal with people today is not something I want to do, but it’s better than hearing the pounding on the door.
“Hey, Sister,” Parker says as he walks in. “How ya doing this morning?”
“Please, stop yelling.” I hold my hand up to stop him.
“I wasn’t.” He takes a seat in the chair across from the desk. “You look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks.” The office is a common area for everyone. I don’t know why he felt the need to knock. Everybody usually walks in unannounced.
“Is it a migraine? I have some ibuprofen in my truck. I can grab it for you.”
“No, it’s not a migraine.” I reach into my desk and pull out my bottle of medicine. “I’ve got some right here, thank you.”
“Ah, so you took the meeting to heart?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, if it’s not a migraine or a regular headache, that means you went home and drank away your frustration.”
He’s not wrong, but I don’t want him to know how much it affects me when they don’t take me seriously.
“I may have drunk too much with Beau last night. No big deal.”
“I see.” He nods as if he knows something I don’t. “Hope the hangover goes away.”
“Did you need something?”
“Huh?” He’s already standing and making his way toward the door.
“You came in here for a reason. Did you need something?”
He scratches the back of his head. It’s one of his tells when he has bad news, or doesn’t know how to say whatever he’s thinking. He’s done it since we were kids. I guess some things are never outgrown. It doesn’t give me much hope they’ll ever take me seriously.
“Yeah, Pierce said he needs to talk to you.”
