At the end of the meal, I walk her to her car but stop short when she heads to the passenger side. That’s odd. But maybe she’s setting down her focaccia and whiskey? I follow her there, setting a hand on the door as she puts her to-go bag down on the floor. She sits, though, in the passenger seat, and I’m thoroughly confused.
“Did you want me to drive?” I ask.
She laughs, but there’s a hint of embarrassment in her eyes when she says, “No. Roxie’s persnickety, so the driver’s side door doesn’t work.”
“Oh,” I say, then think better of asking why she doesn’t get it fixed. She has her reasons. And they’re probably money. “Well, drive Roxie safely.”
“I will, and thanks for dinner and dessert.” She scoots across the car, and once she hops into the driver’s seat, I say good night as I shut the door.
Gently.
She drives off, and I give myself another medal for resistance. I made it through the night without kissing her. That’s got to count for something. Especially since my rebel side is cursing me.
But my responsible side knows better.
Really, it does. I swear.
15
ALL MY ROOMMATES ARE PLANTS
SAWYER
When I pull into the garage ten minutes later, I do my best to shake off the night. Can’t have those tempting memories chasing me the rest of the evening, or the enticing scent of Chloe invading my mind.
I shut the door with a decisive snick and switch on the lights, illuminating the gray couch my sister picked out from Second Time Around, the mid-century coffee table she tracked down there too, and the stools framing the white marble countertop at the kitchen island, from another thrift shop—gently used and you’d never know it.
I’ve been living here for a few weeks now, but I still feel like I’ve walked into a staged home every time I come through the door. There’s no scrabble of paws to greet me like I’ve wanted to hear for a while, but hadn’t when I lived with Katya. There’s also no voice calling out softlyYou’re home, then the sound of her feet padding into the kitchen, askingWant a nightcap?
And…fuck. I do not need to be thinking about Katya and the life we shared. She probably asked that other guy for a nightcap too. My shoulders tighten at the thought, but I try to roll them out and let it go. Like I’ve tried to do over the past several months. Just shuck off the reminders of her.
Letting out a long breath to resettle my thoughts, I toe off my shoes and put my wallet down on the slim black table by the front door that Juliet said would look nice. She’s right. It does look good, and so does the plant on it that Rachel gave me when she came up to check out my new home. It’s a peacock plant, she said.
She brought some other plants too. A Chinese money plant and a lipstick plant. “You should name them,” she said when she told me how much water and sun they’d need. “I suggest Dick, Bill, and Pucker Up, respectively.”
“I’ll call them…Plant, Plant, and Plant,” I’d told her.
“You can’t give them all the same name,” she’d said.
“Watch me,” I’d said.
She’d rolled her eyes, naturally.
“Hey, Plant,” I say to one of them now. But the words feel weird coming out of my mouth. I don’t talk to plants. Or maybe it’s the echo of my voice in the house. The way it reverberates but then fades into the empty spaces.
This house just doesn’t feel personalized to me. I’ve barely hung any art. I’ve hardly had time. I will. Eventually.
At least that’s the plan.
And…fuck. Now I’m up in my head in a whole new way. An annoying way. So what if this place isn’t lived in yet? I haven’t lived that much in this house.
I tell the hub to “Play me some new tunes,” then drop-kick these pesky thoughts out of my mind as I flop down on the couch.
I’m all business. I text Banks, asking if he can meet tomorrow night. He knows a thing or two about working with Hollywood types. He might be able to give me some pointers.
He replies right away with a succinct yes. We set a time, and I enter it in my calendar, right after another evening meeting.
Grabbing my laptop, I settle in with some music and some emails for another couple hours. I prep for my Zoom meetings over the next week with the seven other managers besides Zuri.
