Page 23

Arden

Arden was lying on the couch, a half-eaten slice of peanut-butter pie melting on the coffee table. (Yes, apparently in Seattle, it was possible to get a single slice of pie delivered. The city wasn’t all bad.) A true-crime show played on the TV, the volume too low to hear. Arden wasn’t watching, anyway. She was staring, unfocused, out the huge window at the snow gathering on nearby rooftops.

She had turned off her phone and tossed it onto the bed in the other room. Since going home wasn’t an option, she figured she could just hole up here in complete silence for the next week. Who cared about her list? If she gave up on it, the only person she’d be disappointing was herself. Maybe what she really needed was peace and quiet. No human contact. And when she did return home, well, maybe she would just keep her phone off so she wouldn’t be tempted to call Peter.

Yes, being alone was the best choice right now. If she was alone, she couldn’t be embarrassed or uncomfortable or insecure or—

Knock, knock.

Arden bolted upright. It was a gentle, tentative knock. So probably not an intruder or an angry ex-boyfriend of Phoebe’s. Maybe it was a package delivery. Although a package would probably be dropped off in the mailroom downstairs.

The person knocked again.

Heart pounding, Arden opened the door a crack.

It was Sam.

Arden yanked the door open. “Are you stalking me?”

“Whoa!” Sam raised his hands defensively. “Arden? What are you—I didn’t know you were here.”

“How did you find me? This is—what is going on?” Arden retreated further into Phoebe’s apartment, wishing she had her phone handy in case she needed to call 911. This was so weird. She hadn’t taken Sam for a creep, but…

“Arden—wait. My sister Phoebe asked me to come to her apartment to—”

“Phoebe is your sister?” Arden’s body relaxed. She looked over her shoulder at the photos on the fridge. That was why Sam’s face had looked familiar. He was in more than one of those pictures with Phoebe.

“I swear, I had no idea you were Flamingo Girl.”

Arden tilted her head. “Flamingo Girl?”

“Sorry—ignore that. Let me explain.” Still holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm, Sam gently closed the door behind him.

They retreated to the kitchen, standing on opposite sides of the island.

“Phoebe told me she had swapped homes with someone—with you. I mean, she didn’t tell me your name, so I didn’t know it was you you. But she asked me if I could do her a favor and bring you to our family’s Hanukkah party tonight.”

Arden blinked. She suddenly noticed that Sam was more dressed up than he had been earlier. He wore a black wool coat over khaki slacks, a blue checked button-down shirt, and shiny black shoes. It also suddenly occurred to her that she was wearing her snowman pajamas. And no bra. She folded her arms over her chest.

“What?”

Sam gripped the edge of the kitchen island. He seemed tense. “My parents throw a kind of epic Hanukkah party every year. Phoebe asked me to bring you.”

“Why would she do that?” Honestly, Arden couldn’t believe Phoebe would send a man to her home unannounced. You think you know someone, and then they don’t even give you a heads-up before sending a man over just in case you’re wearing snowman pajamas.

“Because she… I don’t know, she thought you would like it?” Sam gave a Who knows? gesture. “Phoebe tends to have ideas that make sense to her and not necessarily to anyone else.”

Arden thought this over. “That does sound like Phoebe.”

She could feel the tension leaving her body. Instead of becoming one with the couch tonight, she might be going to a party? It didn’t sound awful. Plus, she was getting hungry.

“Will there be food there?”

“Of course there will be—” Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, does that mean you’re accepting my invitation? You want to come to the party?”

Arden hesitated. Her vision of hiding out in solitude had slipped away, and she found that she wasn’t sad about it. “I accept.”

He clapped his hands. “Excellent! Should I give you some time to get changed, or…?”