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Courtney
You don’t know until you ask!
I’m not even sure what to say back. Whoring out Drew would be the cheapest way to get this done, but maybe not the most ethical. I laugh because she doesn’t seem to have any filters about this. Before I can respond, she sends another text.
Courtney
Geez. I’m just kidding! You’re no fun to mess with if you don’t take the bait. So what time and where?
Travis
Tomorrow around 11? I’ll text you the address.
Courtney
You got it, boss!
I groan.
Travis
Don’t make me regret this.
Courtney
I already do.
I laugh and shake my head. I really hope she knows what she’s doing. If I didn’t witness her graduating with honors, I’m not sure I would’ve ever believed she was a little genius because she doesn’t put off that nerdy, smart girl vibe. Her accent, blond hair, and blue eyes give her a Southern belle vibe but mixed with sorority girl gone wild. She’s completely opposite from Viola in almost every way, but maybe that’s why they get along so well.
At least now, I’m able to relax a little, knowing that part of the business will be taken care of—hopefully.
Hours later, Drew comes home in his gym clothes with his uniform thrown over his shoulder. He looks like he’s had a day from hell, and when he cracks open a beer before he does anything else, it’s confirmed.
“Wanna talk about it?” I ask him as he sits down on the couch and starts mindlessly flipping through the channels.
“I’m pretty sure I’m never going to get over Mia.”
I hate hearing her name on his lips, and I hate seeing him so distraught. It’s been months since the big blowout, and she still manages to string him along like a plaything. He’s addicted to her, and regardless of what we all tell him, he can’t let her go.
I think back to Courtney’s text message, and an evil grin spreads across my face.
“How would you like to do me a huge favor?”
He chugs his beer until it’s empty.
“What’s that?”
“Bring lunch for Courtney tomorrow, at the firm, around elevenish?”
He gives me a pointed look. “Your favors are dangerous, King.”
I throw my head back and laugh because it’s true. All of Viola’s and my rekindling started with a single favor—a lunch favor, actually.
“You’re being weird,” he says.
“If you wear your cop uniform, I might be able to get her to install the software on all of the computers I had delivered today for free.”
Now he’s the one laughing. “I’m not going to be your stripper!”
