Trouble

He blinks quickly, and I hope I’m saying the right thing.

Our eyes meet, and he seems relieved. He also seems determined.

His little jaw sets, and he nods. “I’ll be a better man.”

* * *

“He just canceled on you?” Courtney is at the table playing Uno with Ollie as I wrestle my massage table through the door.

“He said some work thing came up, and he’d have to reschedule.” My chest is heavy, and I don’t say out loud how much I needed that paycheck.

Now I’m really broke, and I promised Court I’d help put a deposit on a new place.

“Sorry I didn’t get the pizza. We could still watch Unsolved Mysteries if you want? Or a nature show… I’ll make mac and cheese!”

Oliver goes out with a Wild Draw 4 card, and Courtney hops up with a smile. “Nope—we’re getting sushi!”

“Sushi!” Ollie jumps out of the chair and does a little sumo dance. “Sushi! Sushi! Sushi!”

“Are you sure?” My forehead crinkles. “I’m going to be short now that Mystery Client canceled.”

“I have a coupon for Sakitumi—dinner’s on me!”

“Grab the keys. I’ll order while you drive.”

We pile into my ancient Dodge mini-van and head for Sakitumi. “Best sushi in the Soda City,” I cry, and Ollie cheers from the back seat.

We’re heading down I-20, and my feet are propped on the passenger’s side dash as I enter Court’s credit card info. “Do y

ou think I should get credit cards up front and threaten to charge a cancellation fee if they don’t give 24 hours’ notice?”

“Nope. I think you should come and work with me at Palmetto and not worry about it!”

My eyebrows shoot up. “I got the job?”

“You got an interview, but of course they’re going to hire you. He’ll take one look at your résumé and give you the job. It doesn’t hurt that you’re super friendly and likable.”

“Tell me more…” I put my hand on my chest, fluttering my eyelids.

Courtney is turning the dial on the radio. “This old thing doesn’t even have Bluetooth,” she complains.

“Don’t hate on Betsy. She gets me where I need to go with my massage chair intact.”

“Good ole Betsy!” Oliver calls from the back. “This is Betsy, Chartreuse!”

“Ollie! You did not bring that frog!” I wail. “Do not—”

“I know, do not let her go in my van.” He imitates my voice pretty well, I have to hand it to him.

His mother finally lands on a classic rock station playing Shania Twain, and we start belting out all the words to “That Don’t Impress Me Much.”

Ollie groans, pushing his head against the seat.

We head into The Vista, and I chew my lip, remembering the last time I was here with Spencer. All the feelings from our meeting at Nightcaps try to bubble up, but I push them right back down with a variation on Shania. “Okay, so you’re a billionaire…”

Courtney pulls the minivan into one of the designated take-out spaces, and I turn the radio softer.

“You know, Ollie, you’re a pretty cool kid to like sushi so much.” I lift my head to meet his eyes in the mirror.