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What now then? Is this going to jeopardize our whole working relationship and leave us unable to function together professionally?
Myles takes one look at me and sighs heavily before reaching for a bottle in the mini-fridge beneath the bar.
“Here, this is all you get,” she says, cracking open a bottle and placing it in front of me. The contents are effervescent and escape out of the top the moment the cap is removed.
Yet, one look at the bottle and I know it’s not beer.
Carefully, I lift up the bottle and twist it in my hand. “What is this?”
“Kombucha. Enjoy,” she responds without looking up.
I narrow my gaze and make a face when sniff it. “What in the hell isthat? And why does it smell like feet?”
She shrugs. “Probably because it expired last year.”
I slide the bottle across the bar. “Then why would you give this to me?”
She narrows her gaze and leans forward on the bar. Then she hiss-whispers conspiratorially, “It’s what all thewould-beadulterers get.”
I hold my hands out and snort. “For the hundredth time, I’m not going after Lily.”
Myles rolls her eyes as she pulls away from the bar and continues stocking bottles. “Don’t care.”
“What in the hell does that mean?” I retort.
This is the last thing I need right now.
Over her shoulder, she says simply, “It means—I don’t know. Maybe youshouldbe.”
Fucking hell.
After the talk earlier, I was not expecting that.
CHAPTER16
Lily
My phone dings and I pull it from my pocket. Somehow, despite blowing him off earlier, I’m insanely hoping it’s a text from London.
It’s not.
It’s a text from my sister, Angie.
Hey, sis! I heard Seth’s finally packing in all the traveling. Yay! You must be thrilled! We should get together for coffee soon. Let me know what works.
I stare at the text, wondering why I ever tell my mother things. It’s apparent, she doesn’t know how to keep what I tell her between us.
Now, I need to respond to Angie and I have no idea what to say that won’t set off alarm bells in her over-achiever brain.
She’s right. Ishouldbe thrilled. Ishouldbe over the moon.
Instead, I’ve been consumed by an irrational panic. More than once in the past few days, I’ve had to lock myself in the bathroom just to control my breathing.
Not my finest moments, let me tell you.
Seth has been home for three days and I haven’t been back to Nocté since he arrived. I don’t know what to say to London—or how to tell Seth about the kind of event I’m working on with him. Rather than dealing with it, I’ve pretended none of it exists.
Great going,I know.
