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“And what does this have to do with me?” I asked.
“Come on, man.” She sounded exhausted. “It’s not like you were at the top of my list but I refinished a coffee table this morning and he says she’s not supposed to be around any strong chemicals for another forty-eight hours.”
One of Jessica’s many side hustles involved disassembling, upcycling and refinishing dumpster and curb finds then reselling them. Half the residents of Kelly Bay had at least one of her custom pieces in their homes.
“I haven’t gotten through to anyone else,” Jessica said. “She’s been on the phone arguing with her insurance company for the last twenty minutes since she woke up. Guess our hospital is out-of-network for her and she doesn’t want to stay the night.”
This was a terrible idea. Hell, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure this wasn’t still part of some elaborate scheme by Brody to foist this woman on me a second time. There had to be someone else who could take her in for the night. “Have you tried—”
“Hey, Paul.” Her voice was muffled like she was covering the mic with her hand. “You got my voicemail and rushed right down here? You’re a godsend. Gimme a second.”
Her voice cleared up as she addressed me again. “We got it covered after all. Talk to you later.”
She disconnected the call and a white-hot anger rushed through me. No way was ladies’ man Paul Harris taking her home with him. I was behind the wheel of my truck before I knew what I was doing.
Drew: Do NOT let her leave with Paul. I’m on my way.
