She stood. “But I’m telling you to hire her back.” She cleared the table, rinsing the dishes and putting them into the dishwasher. “Since you have some time on your hands, I’m putting you in charge of the investigation.”
“No.”
Granny’s eyes flashed to mine. “What did you say?”
I shook my head. “No, Granny. I’m not going to do that.”
“Then, you’re fired.” She shrugged. “It’s that simple.”
“You know I respect you, but Albany has declared that she doesn’t want anything to do with me and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”
With a heavy sigh, she approached me. “Sometimes we have to work with shitty people. Albany knows that.”
“Are you calling me shitty?”
“If the shoe fits.” She laughed, brushing her hand over my cheek. “I’m just kidding. What I meant to say was that we all do things we don’t want to do to get to our end game.”
Granny was up to something. Why was she so intent on hiring Albany back? What washerend game? I had questions, but I knew she wouldn’t answer them. So, I agreed. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Good.” She handed me a folder. “Instructions for you are inside. This is your sole responsibility for the day. I expect you to follow through.” She walked to the door. “Don’t call me until it’s complete.”
Granny didn’t hug me. She didn’t tell me everything would be okay. She didn’t even tell me goodbye. She just left. Even so, I knew that she hadn’t completely given up on me. Yet. And I was determined to make this right. With her. And with Albany.
Chapter 8
Albany
Iwas the type of woman who meticulously planned out my day. I usually woke with an agenda and methodically went about clearing every item off of my to-do list. It was my way of maintaining some control over my life after not having any for much of my childhood. Very rarely did I deviate from my schedule, and only for certain people, but today …
I can’t do this.
Groaning, I covered myself with an oversized hoodie and draped my favorite blazer atop my throbbing head. My decision to drown my sorrows in vodka and simple syrup, then pass out in my rented bedroom—after I ate a gallon of rainbow sherbet and a full bag of potato chips—had caught up to me.
The door creaked opened, but instead of turning to it, I rolled over so that my back was facing it. “I know,” I grumbled. “You told me to stop at one lemon drop.”
Brianna had watched the train wreck in silence, nursing an ice water. A long time ago, we vowed that one of us would always remain sober. Since I was the inebriated bitch at the bar, she became my eyes and ears. I felt sorry for her, too. Because I was a terrible, mopey, whiny, drunk friend. Now, I was the terrible, mopey, whiny,hungoverfriend.
“I’ll get up soon,” I continued. “I just need to lay here for another seventy-two hours.” That was the subtle way of telling her I needed to be alone, because I couldn’t kick her out ofhersecond bedroom. I was inherspace, usinghershower, eatingherfood, and connecting toherinternet for work. “Please,” I begged.
Footsteps neared the edge of my makeshift bed. “Boo.”
My eyes popped open because the voice was familiar, but it wasn’t Brianna. I flipped over, throwing my blazer across the room. “Kay?”
Kayla grinned at me. “Girl, you look crazy right now.”
I patted my hair, cringing when I ran my finger over a crunchy strand. “When did you get here?”
She picked up the empty tub of sherbet and set it on the desk. “This morning. Why are you still asleep at noon on a Monday?” She scanned the room. “Wait … Did you sleep on a pile of dirty laundry?”
“I couldn’t make it to the bed. I’m broken,” I mumbled.
“Aw, Pookie.” She tossed a pair of jeans into the hamper. “You’re going to be okay.”
When I became friends with Brianna, I gained an extended family.Herbig sister wasmybig sister, too. Our decision to attend Howard University had everything to do with the fact that Kay was already on campus. Which meant we had much-needed support.
“Okay.” Taking a seat on the floor next to my pallet, Kay crossed her legs. “I’ma need you to get it together.” She gestured to all the clothes. “Put a load in the washing machine, and get yo’ ass in the shower because you look—and smell—like you consumed a fifth of liquor.”
“Preferably sooner than later,” Bri added, walking into the room with two mugs.
