“What’s up? You soundweird.”
I’ve only said oneword, but I guess she can figure out that something’s not right. She’s a reallygood friend, and I’m happy to have her. I slink down in the plastic airportchair.
“Well … I’m home.”
“Huh?”
“Not home, exactly,but at the airport. Here in Houston.”
“Wait, you’re notsupposed to be home until tomorrow, right? Mason and I are planning to pick youup at six.”
“Yeah, that was theoriginal plan but, well, I’m here.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” I say.“Well, something. But … can you just come get me please?”
“Are you okay?”Livi asks, her voice a little more concerned now. “You’re not missing any limbsor anything?”
I chuckle. “No, I’mfine. I have all the same body parts I left with.”
Broken hearts don’t exactly count, I think.
“Okay, well I’m atthe bakery and there’s no way I could leave it with just Keesha, so I shouldsend Mason to get you—”
“No!” I say,cutting her off. “Not Mason. I need you. Just close up the bakery.”
“But it’sSaturday,” she says. “We’re really busy. Are you sure?”
“Yeah, justpolitely kick everyone out,” I say, hating myself for it. I love my customersand I hate the idea of closing on a Saturday but I just can’t do it now. I needLivi here, not Mason. I love him but he’s a guy and right now I need to talk toa girl.
“Okay, I’ll bethere as soon as I can,” Livi says.
When I hang up, Ifeel relief that I have someone coming to get me. Maybe in a few hours I canput this whole thing behind me, and just go back to my normal life and pretendI never met a gorgeous bearded man who works in real estate. Maybe I’ll evenopen the bakery back up this afternoon and spend the rest of the day working.
It’s a boring twohour wait at the airport, and I think I even fall asleep a few times, butfinally Livi is calling me to say she’s made it and is waiting for me in thearrivals section. I lift up the handle on my rolling suitcase and walk to findher.
Livi looks like shejust walked right out of a bakery, and it makes me smile. Her jeans have flouron them, and her hair is pulled back in a small bun that’s all frazzled fromthe baker’s hat she would have been wearing. She looks worn out, but concernedas her brows pull together when she sees me.
“Alexa,” she says,more like a confirmation than a greeting. She pulls me into a quick hug andthen reaches for my suitcase, as if she knows I’m too broken right now to dealwith anything other than myself.
“Thanks,” I say,letting her take the handle.
We’re quiet on thewalk outside and to her car. Soon, I notice she’s not driving her old piece ofcrap car, and instead she’s driving Mason’s truck.
“Did you tell himwhat you were doing?” I ask, alarmed.
She grins andshakes her head as she lifts my suitcase into the back. “No worries. This is mytruck now.”
“Huh?”
This truck isMason’s baby. He probably loves it only slightly less than he loves Livi. Weclimb inside and Livi starts the engine to crank the air conditioning becauseit’s already pretty hot in here.
“Well, you know howMason has been bitching that I need a new car because mine sucks?” she says.“Even after he put new tires on it, it still broke down on me twice in the lastthree months.”
I nod. He’s alwaystelling her it’s too unsafe and that she needs something that was manufacturedin this decade.
“Yeah, but youalways say you can’t afford a new car,” I say.
