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Unable to refuse her anything, I shift to tug my cell from my pocket, unlocking it and then handing it to her.
She keys in her number. “Call me when they’re gone. We can finish what we started last December.”
“I thought you were starving.” Jake’s voice jolts through me. “Why are you yahoos still sitting outside?”
“Uh.” Taylor twists in the seat to face Jake, walking up the drive. “We’re just talking about how,” she glances down at my phone, still in her hand, “I’m going to give Atticus a reading. I got new tarot cards when I was in Sedona earlier this year.”
Jake groans. “She told me the last time she trapped me into one of her woo-woo readings that I should avoid sombreros, goldfish, and west-facing windows. Seriously, don’t let her get you into it.”
“Oh, you are definitely getting into it,” she murmurs, low enough for only me to hear.
My gaze flies to her face, her eyes gleaming, her smile wicked.
“So call me. For thereading. Whenever you’re free.” She winks, handing me my phone before hopping out of the cart and ambling over to Jake.
“Come on, brat, make me a chicken salad sandwich.” Taylor loops an arm over Jake’s shoulder.
“See ya, Ace,” Jake calls out, tossing me a wave.
He turns back to Taylor and murmurs something that makes her laugh.
A distant pang echoes through me at their shared laughter, the closeness they have, the connection nearly palpable. I don’t have any siblings.
Since my parents died, I’ve been an outsider everywhere. Part of the group, always invited, and yet somehow still an interloper, even with my own family.
I leave the keys in the ignition of the golf cart and make my way to my truck parked on the side of the house.
Ten minutes later, I’m home. The house is dark. Moira and Paul are in bed. Still sitting in my truck in the driveway, I scroll through my contacts, searching underT.
Huh. Her name isn’t there.
I browse the list starting at the top, and a laugh barks out of me when I find it.
She put herself in my phone as “Empress of Awesome.”
I chuckle. Getting involved with Taylor might be the best decision I could make—or the worst.
ChapterNine
Taylor
“You’ve got some big problems, honey.” Pearl throws the words at me over her shoulder as I follow her away from the garage.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” The scents of metal and oil and burnt coffee make my nose twinge as we head down a short hallway that leads to Pearl’s office.
The high-pitched whine of tools and mechanics shouting at each other fades when she shuts the door.
She rounds the desk, pulling out a file from the drawer and slapping it on the cluttered desk next to a stained mug that readsreal cars don’t shift themselves. “The engine is toast. It needs to be replaced. You been getting the oil changed like I told you?”
“Sure.”
Nope.
Pearl sighs, inured to my lies. “I can order the parts now. It will be a little bit of time to get them shipped in and do the work.”
“How much do you think this will cost me?” I hold my breath.
“A lot.”
