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He kept his head down and he worked hard, and he was loyal to his girlfriend.
He was also boring as hell.
Which was why his girlfriend had dumped him.
Something we’d been dancing around since he’d dropped the bomb about the breakup the last time he and I had hung out with Axel. He was acting all together and cool and collected…but I’d also seen the ring he’d been planning on giving his girl.
So, there couldn’t be a whole lot of cool and collected and all together under that calm veneer.
I’d get it out of him, eventually.
And it would probably involve alcohol.
Which was certainly the same tactic he was going to use on me.
Which waswhyI gave him what I gave him.
I shot a puck, turned to him, and said, “I fucked the mayor.”
Twelve
Billie Rose
Isat on the steps of the trailer, staring up at the sky, finding a blip of peace in the stars.
Small.
I was a minor cog in the wheel of humanity, a tiny piece of the universe, one part in a tapestry of—
Andthatwas enough self-reflection and spirituality for the day.
Enough self-reflection and spirituality for the week. The month. Mylifetime.
I had a to do list that was a mile long, a pile of notebooks, my trusty brand of pens and highlighters I used to organize my thoughts and plan my day. This was me communing under the moon, giving to the universe.
With spreadsheets and color coding.
We couldn’t all dance naked or meditate.
Some of us needed toorganize.
So, my laptop was open, my planner was in my lap, and I’d taken my moment to appreciate the glimmering stars and light that had traveled millions and millions of miles just to reach my eyes. Now—I clicked my pen—it was time to sort my shit for the next day.
Something I set about doing like the planning badass I was.
Something that left the stairs of the trailer covered with supplies—punches and stickers and washi tape and scissors.
Something that had filled the tops of the two—yes,two—camping tables tucked close, one with my laptop and one loaded with my extra planners and the pens and more washi tape and stickers and punches.
A.K.A. the Keys to the Kingdom.
Media schedule. Rebuilding tasks. Insurance claims and city and state contracts. A contacts list with a rotating timetable, so I reached out to all of my people on the regular. And a master schedule that put it all together.
That was in my lap, and I was reviewing my obligations for the next day when I heard it.
Them.
Footsteps.
