“With Nance?”
She rolls her eyes. Nancy’s back, by the way. Autumn’s had to deal with her all night, but her family has come to town this time around. We’re thinking arrangements are going to be made for some more permanent help for our most frequent flyer.
“No, with Big Boy.”
“Oh,” I say, huffing a laugh. I think about the other night. That kiss. “I can’t complain. I don’t think it’ll last very long, though, so don’t get too excited.”
“Why do you say that?”
I shrug. “He’s a hockey player, Autumn. You know the type. He’s never stuck with someone for very long.”
“Yeah,” she says with a nod. She leans against the wall,rolling her head to look at me. “But that was before he met you.”
If only she knew. This man probably wouldn’t have given me a second glance after that night atIceboxif we hadn’t landed ourselves in this mess. If he hadn’t neededme to save his career. It’s hard to act hopelessly in love when it’s all fake. I’m lying to everyone. My friends, his friends, my sisters, Noah.
I like Carter, and itisgoing well, but it’s not real. This is going to end one day, and I need everyone, including myself, to be ready for that.
“We’ll see then, won’t we?” I smile, signing off on the bottom before shoving the clipboard back into its slot.
“Yes, we will,” she says, her eyes glittering. “If nothing comes of it, at least it’s a good story. You know, for the plot.”
“For the plot,” I say at the same time, nudging her with my elbow.
Autumn and I head for the lunch room, her steps a bit more sluggish than mine. Though Whit isn’t working with us tonight, I wish she was. Not even the worst night shift rotation can impact The Charlie’s Angels. When it’s the three of us, it’s always fun. There is no room for exhaustion. Autumn would be a bit more awake right now if the final piece of us were here.
“You need a nap.”
“I know.” She yawns as we pass Nancy’s room. We glance inside, but Nancy is fast asleep. “Maybe I’ll curl up on the couch.”
“You should.”
She does. Within seconds of us entering the room, Autumn is out cold, her face pressed to the cushion of the leather couch, legs in my lap. I’m sitting with my feet on the coffee table, munching on my carrots, doom-scrolling through my phone.
A text comes in.
Noah
Did you look through those papers?
Shit. Have I not seen or spoken to him in weeks?
Me
Yeah, nothing new. All good!
Noah
Nothing new… Dolly, he’s a serial violent offender.
Me
He was a kid.
Noah
He was in his twenties, and now he’s in his thirties. Last I checked, he has some beautiful new charges that he got standing next to you. Still all good?
Me
