Although she’s doing her best to put my mind at ease, I’m not convinced. Avery’s sister, Helena, suffers from depression and Avery is the one who always makes sure she’s okay. She also helps pay for Helena’s study. I don’t know anyone who works as much as my best friend. Between her family, her full-time job with Luke and the eBay store she runs part-time, I’m not sure where she’ll find the time to sleep, let alone get laid.
“Can I help with the eBay orders, babe?”
She’s silent for a beat. Avery hates accepting help. After a lifetime of always being the one who has looked after everyone else, she’s wired this way, and I’m trying to snap her out of it. The answer she gives me tells me just how much she needs me. “I would love your help. Thank you.” Her voice is soft, unlike the usual take-charge Avery she usually channels.
“Consider it done. When?”
“Tomorrow morning. Eight sharp and bring me coffee.” I smile at her return to bossy Avery. I love both sides of her, but this side reassures me that she’s still doing okay. That she’s still fighting the good fight and winning. If the day ever comes where she’s not winning, I’ll be screwed, because Avery is my lifeline to air most days.
“I’ll be there,” I promise. “With coffee.” She has an addiction to Starbucks that I will happily feed if it helps put that smile on her face that I love.
“I wanna know the minute you hear from Luke, okay? Text me.”
I agree and finish the call.
I then check my messages.
Still nothing from Luke.
* * *
Nine hours later, I’m staring at Avery as she makes cocktails at Elixir. I’ve come to the bar to see Luke, but he’s nowhere in sight. Avery glances up for a moment and sees me.
I mouth, “Is Luke here?”
She shakes her head and motions for me to give her a minute. Dumping my bag on the counter, I look around, taking in the amount of people here tonight. For nine on a Tuesday night, it’s busy. Luke’s bar is pretty much always busy, but not usually like this at the beginning of the week.
“Luke’s not coming in tonight, Callie,” Avery says when she finishes with her customers. Clearing empty glasses off the counter, she adds, “He called a couple of hours ago to say he had stuff at home to deal with and that he’d organised extra staff to help me.”
Luke never takes time off.
“Did he sound okay?”
She cocks her head to the side. “He hasn’t called you yet?”
“No,” I admit, feeling defeated. It’s silly that I allow myself to feel this way because he made it clear last night he was interested but as much as I try to tell myself that there must be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this, I’m disappointed.
“Call him, babe.”
“You know how much I hate having important conversations on the phone. I want to go see him, but I don’t want to force myself on him when he might be dealing with family stuff.”
When he might be dealing with a murdering wife.
Remember her?
You should just walk away now before you get more attached to a man you can’t have.
But I really want him.
But he’s really married.
Shut up.
“Well, text him then,” she says in her bossy voice.
I poke my tongue at her and ignore the grin she unleashes on me before turning away to serve more customers. However, I pull out my phone and send Luke a text.
Me: I know you’re busy with family stuff, but I feel like we need to talk after last night. When will you have some time?