Blythe picked up the phone.
Missy:Hey, love. It was great seeing you last night. I’m so glad you finally came to your senses. I can’t wait for our date next weekend.
Blythe’s face fell. “Pickleball? What a fucking fool I was.”
“I didn’t lie about pickleball.”
“Then what the hell does this mean?”
“After the tournament, I went to the bar last night.”
“So the tournament wasn’t all weekend?”
Ricki looked away. “It ended Saturday afternoon.”
“Where the fuck were you the rest of the time?”
Ricki pointed at the phone. “Obviously, I went to the bar last night.”
“You spent the night with her, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“Then where the fuck did you spend the night?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.” Blythe threw the phone onto the bed.
“In my office. Just like I did on Friday night.”
“I thought the tournament was in Indiana.”
Ricki shook her head. “It was in the city.”
“So you could have come home?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Nope. Why do you think I packed all the food?”
“So you spent the weekend in your office, eating cans of tuna?”
“And popcorn.”
“Just so you wouldn’t have to be around us?”
“Yes.”
“This is six ways of fucked up.” Blythe wanted to grab Ricki by the shoulders and shake her. “What happened at the bar? With Missy?”
“I hung out. We talked.”
“And you asked her out on a date for next weekend?”
“No.”
