“Sure. I think it’s mostly the characters,” Bailey says smoothly. “We’ve just spent so much time with them at this point that it feels more natural.”
“See,” Luke murmurs, leaning his head toward me before letting his hand drop from my arm. “That was perfect. She was hoping for pushback, and they didn’t give it to her.”
I nod, still watching Bailey. It was a good answer.
The rest of the interview goes quickly, and luckily, You Oughta Know doesn’t try any other tactics. I hope the video she makes gets zero views.
Luke stays by my side for the rest of the interviews. I think he’s heading back to his spot at one point, but instead he grabs his chair and sets it next to mine.
It goes by much faster this way, having him there making quiet commentary while we make sure our clients behave. Bailey andRiver don’t really need us, though. They do a great job, answering questions thoughtfully all the way through.
“We did it,” Luke says when the final interviewer is gone and we’re walking out of the building together.
“That was rough. I’m glad it’s over,” I tell him.
“It’s so weird that I feel exhausted when all I did was sit around.”
“I know. I’m beat,” I say, feeling the tiredness in my bones. And I’m supposed to meet up with Chris after this. Crap.
“I’m parked over there,” I say, pointing in the direction of my car.
“Okay,” Luke says, still walking with me.
I bite my lip, trying not to smile. I can’t help feeling hopeful that we’ll be okay. That I didn’t ruin everything last Friday.
When we get to my car, I unlock it, and Luke opens the door for me.
“See you tomorrow for our weekly meeting with Victoria?” he asks before I get in.
“Right,” I say. “I almost forgot about that.”
“Do you want to drive together?”
“Sure,” I say.
“Pick me up at eight, Archer,” he says, taking a few steps backward, a smirk on his face.
I shake my head. “Okay,” I say, smiling to myself as I slide into the driver’s seat.
As I pull out, I catch him in my rearview mirror, still standing there watching me as I leave.
I don’t go out with Chris. I send him a text asking for a rain check, then drive the ten minutes to my parents’ house.
When I get there, I find my mom and dad and Gigi sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner. My mom gives me a side hug and tells me to grab a plate, which I do not object to. She’s made chicken parmesan—my favorite.
I dish up a plate, listening to Gigi complain about a mockingbird who likes to hang out in the tree by her window and sing early in the morning.
“Could you get out there and hit him with something, Gregory?” she asks my dad.
“Mom,” my mom chides, “that’s a terrible thing to say.”
“And he’s a terrible bird for waking me up so early in the morning,” she says.
I smile to myself as I take a bite of chicken. This is exactly where I needed to be tonight.
After we finish, my mom clears the table, and Gigi and I stay in our seats.
“And how’s the dating life?” she asks me, right after telling me she tried to watchKingdom of Flame and Moonlightand couldn’t get into it. “I don’t like men with pointy ears,” she said.
