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Now I’m tensing enough that I’m frozen there, pillow in hand.
“Are you writing the next one yet?” she asks.
“It’s done and at the publisher.”
“Same characters?”
I nod, still wary, still stiff.
She smiles. “Good. That’s what I was hoping. It really was good, Laney. I’m not just saying that to be nice. You’re an amazing writer,and I’m thrilled for you.” She meets my gaze. “Honestly thrilled. I know we’ve had our… issues, but I remember when we were kids and you used to write stories, and I always pestered you to let me read them. It felt like that. Like getting to read your stories again.”
Again, I only nod, not sure what to say to that. After a moment, I say, “You’re doing really well, too. Running your own company.”
She makes a face. “Sounds more impressive than it is. I wasn’t getting anywhere with my last employer, so I struck out on my own to build up my portfolio. Then I’ll probably duck back into another company where I can count on steady paychecks and benefits.”
“I hear you,” I say. “People keep asking when I’ll quit teaching to write full-time. Not anytime soon. As much as I love writing, I love steady paychecks and benefits more.”
We keep chatting about work and life, and we’re finishing when I realize we’re short on towels. We head down to the main-level laundry and find a basket of dirty towels with a note on top.
These were not washed! We found them piled on the floor!
I presume the note is from Mrs. Abbas. Does she mean that Nate forgot to finish the laundry? More likely the Abbases showed up early. He may have even mentioned that he hadn’t finished the towels, and they promised to do it themselves.
That’s happened before, and it doesn’t keep guests from complaining in hopes of getting a discount. One might think that anyone able to afford this place wouldn’t lie to get a hundred bucks back. That would only mean one does not truly understand the rich. Having grown up with Jayla and Kit, I thought I did. I did not.
I’m shoving the towels into the washer when the back door slaps shut, and Madison calls something I don’t catch.
“Time to assign bedrooms,” I say to Sadie as I turn toward the door.
She steps into my path. “Before we do, there’s something we need to discuss.”
Every muscle in me tenses. Here it comes. She’s going to tell me that she’ll be sharing a room with my ex-husband, and she hopes that’s okay, no hard feelings, right?
Except that’s not what she says. Not at all. As she talks, I almost wish thatwerewhat she says. This is worse. She wants me to heal an old wound, and I understand her point, but if healing Sadie means hurting someone I love more, then I will not.
I tell her it’s not the time—obviously.
“Make it the time, Laney. Either you handle this, or I will.”
I turn to face her, slow and deliberate. “If you so much ashintto—”
The squeak of sneakers in the hall has us both going still.
“Later,” I say. “Don’t push me. You know better.”
Sadie marches off. I retreat into the laundry area to collect myself. I’m not sure how long I’m there before Madison wheels in.
“What are you doing inhere?” she says.
“Washing towels. Everyone’s waiting for room assignments, right?”
“Nope, we did that. You and I share your room.” She lowers her voice. “Did you talk to Kit?”
“About what?”
“He was looking for you. He came in while you were with Sadie. Then I saw him poking around, trying to find you. It seemed important.”
I’m still looking for Kit when I hear Sadie’s voice inside a bedroom. She’s talking to someone, and she’s angry. I can’t make out what she’s saying, just the tone. I hesitate. If she’s speaking to Garrett, I don’t want to hear it. If it’s Jayla, and there’s trouble brewing—
