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I can't wait for the day she breaks free.
For now, it's more texts and phone calls than actually getting to see one another.
Ring after ring, the call gets closer to going over to voicemail. Just when I think I'm going to be bracing myself to hang up, a hushed "hello" comes through.
"OH, thank God." I breathe in response. With the feeling of urgency, I launch into my explanation without allowing her to ask what was the matter. "I know Charles has you busy, but I need you right now. I'm in the women's room at Grizzly's with a ghost of my past out there looking for me."
With all that rushed out, I suck in a deep, needed breath.
"What?" Whispering a hiss at me is the only clue I'm given that my best friend isn't somewhere she can easily talk to me. Next comes her muffled excuse, followed by a door sealing somewhere on her end. "What's going on, Ang?"
The few seconds it took her didn't afford me enough time to catch my breath. "In through your nose, out through your mouth." Her soothing voice slowly brings my heart rate back down, and I collect myself.
"Chase is back."
"So I've heard."
"I'm at Grizzly's, and so is he." I continue filling her in about the last few encounters leading up to him targeting me here. "It isn't funny."
“It kind of is.” She gasps in a breath. “What exactly is it you want me to do?”
“I washopingyou could come and save me. I’ll try to convince someone to let me out the back, and you can be my getaway driver.”
“I’m in Missoula, Ang.” Laughter aside, she does sound remorseful. “Frederick had an investor dinner I couldn’t—”
“Say no more.” I lift a hand even though she can’t see it. “I get it.” Unfortunately, that’s the truth. She’s been his trophy girlfriend since high school, and her parents made it known they had plans with his family to join forces through them rather than just doing some legal paperwork. It’s old school and idiotic.
“I’m sorry, but maybe this is a good thing?” she hedges. I know she’s going to need to get back soon, but I can’t help but question her.
“How?” I whisper-shout, worried that Chase is on the other side of the door pushing me. “How could this be a good thing?”
“You could finally face him. Since he can’t remember you, why not give him a try?”
This woman, my best friend, is a huge dreamer and believes all the stuff written in romance books. She craves to sell it in a shop someday. It saddens me that she’s forced to live a life she so clearly doesn’t want.
“Are you insane?” My shout this time is louder than the previous.
“Maybe I’m living vicariously through you since I’m stuck, and as teens, I watched you get stars in your eyes for the stupid idiot and know how you never really got over him. You’re a badass bitch now. Pull yourself together and march out of that bathroom and show him that.”
You’re right.
I don’t voice it, only nod.
“Say it, Angelica,” she barks, showing a piece of herself that’s been locked away for too long.
“You’re right,” I mutter.
“Louder, I can’t hear you,” she cheers.
“You’re right,” I bark, standing up straight and pushing away from the door to look at my reflection. My hair is teased to a contained kind of wild.
“That’s my girl,” she sings. “Now, get off this call and go out there and show Chase fucking Thorne what you’re made of.”
After exchanging I love yous, we end our call. I shove my phone into my purse, right myself with my reflections guide, and head out the door.
Chase Thorne can eat his heart out.
Chapter Eleven
