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No messages from Jagger.

I hate how much that bothers me.

I told him I wanted space.

He's giving me space.

Apparently, I'm impossible to please.

The hotel doors slide open before I reach them. Carla comes barreling through wearing a black coat, jeans, and boots. Her dark hair curls over her shoulders. She pulls me into a hug. "There she is!"

I laugh and toss my arms around her.

She gushes, "Oh Lord, how I've missed you!"

"I've missed you too."

She squeezes me harder, then releases me and holds me at arm's length. Her smile disappears. "You look like shit."

"Gee, thanks."

"I mean emotionally. Your makeup looks great."

I laugh. "Much better."

She studies me another second. "What happened?"

"How do you know something happened?"

"Because I know your face." She points across the street at the Red Dirt. "Drink?"

I glance at the glaring sign. "Isn't there another place?"

She shakes her head. "Not in this town on Thanksgiving night."

"Ugh!" I wrinkle my nose.

"To be fair, I'd rather drink mouthwash in my hotel room than run into anyone."

I laugh again. "You're being dramatic."

"I'm being honest."

"It's Thanksgiving and there are barely any cars in the lot. And you don't have to worry about him. He's back on the ranch," I inform her.

She doesn't need me to say Mason's name. "Phew. Okay, then let's go." She links her arm through mine, and we cross the empty street and enter the bar. Country music spills out along with warm air carrying the familiar scent of beer, fried food, and leather.

My stomach twists. The last time Carla and I walked into this place together, I had no idea how much one night would change my life.

Unlike New Year's Eve, the bar is lifeless. Three patrons sit at the bar, all old men in cowboy hats.

We grab ranch waters and find a booth tucked into the back corner, half hidden behind a wooden partition and an old neon beer sign. It's perfect. We can see most of the room, but anyone walking in probably won't notice us unless they're looking.

Carla leans her elbows on the table. "So? How's Jagger?"

I sarcastically state, "Fantastic."

She furrows her eyebrows. "I thought you said on the phone it was going well?"