Size 12 and Ready to Rock (Heather Wells 4)

Sure, I’m exhausted, because I’ve had to do all of this on my own, since Lisa Wu was still moving in and Sarah was continuing to work through whatever it is she’s working through and was too grumpy to be helpful. One of the tasks on my to-do list was to find out what was wrong with Sarah. Sadly, I wasn’t able to put a check next to this item.

“Sarah,” I said to her the day before check-in, “do you want to take a break and go get a cup of coffee? Brad can cover the office while we’re gone. I think we need to talk about . . . well . . . whatever it is that’s been bugging you.”

I suspected—but could not prove—that what was bugging Sarah was Sarah’s boyfriend. For most of the summer, I hadn’t been able to get Sebastian to leave the office, and technically he didn’t even work there. He hung around all the time because he was so in love with Sarah.

Lately, however, the office has been a Sebastian-free zone. I’ve noticed a distinct lack of phone calls to Sebastian on Sarah’s part, and whenever her cell phone rings, she viciously sends the call to voice mail. All is clearly not well in Sarah-and-Sebastian land.

When I asked if she wanted to talk about it, however, Sarah looked up from the supply request she was filling out on the computer and said angrily, “Not unless you want to tell me what’s been bugging you.”

I blinked back at her, surprised. “Nothing’s bugging me. Well, aside from the fact that we have fifty teenage girls checking in here tomorrow and we’re nowhere close to ready—”

“Really?” Sarah interrupted. “You don’t have anything to tell me? Nothing at all going on in your life that might have been distracting you? So much so that you forgot to bring me back a Shack Attack from Shake Shack after your doctor’s appointment last Monday even though you said you would because your doctor’s office is right around the Madison Park Shake Shack and you can never resist a visit to Shake Shack? But evidently something stopped you from going, didn’t it, or at least from remembering my Shack Attack. And you never even said you were sorry.”

I stared at her, openmouthed. I’d been so stunned after my doctor’s appointment, I hadn’t even noticed the Shake Shack, which was odd, because the line snaked almost all the way through the park.

“Sarah,” I said, “I’m so sorry. Your shake completely slipped my mind—”

“It’s no big deal,” Sarah said, with the kind of hostile shrug that indicated it was a very big deal indeed. “I realize I’m just someone you work with, not a friend with whom you might share confidences. And a Shack Attack is a frozen custard, not a shake, FYI.”

“Sarah,” I said, “of course you’re my friend—”

“But not one with whom you share personal news,” she said with a sniff. “Like you do with Muffy Fowler.”

“Muffy Fowler?” What was she talking about? “I haven’t shared any personal news with Muffy.”

I hadn’t even shared with Cooper the personal news I’d learned from that doctor’s appointment. Not that it was anything to worry about.

“Oh really?” Sarah asked. “Then how come I overheard her and that Brewer woman talking about how you and Cooper are engaged? If you and I are such good friends, why am I the last to know you’re getting married? You’ve never even told me you’re officially going out. Although only a blind person wouldn’t have noticed.”

Stephanie. I should have known she wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“Sarah,” I said, “I’m sorry. Cooper and I are going out. But we’ve been trying to keep it on the down-low because it’s complicated with his family, as you can probably imagine. I can assure you, we aren’t engaged.” I waved my hand at her. “See? No ring. It’s true we’ve talked about marriage, but there’s no date set.” None of this was technically a lie. “And I’m surprised at you, listening to office gossip. Aren’t you the one who once told me that gossip is a social weapon that’s used more often to hurt than to help?”

Though I said all this with what I considered a teasing, humorous tone, Sarah only grew sulkier.

“Yes. But—”

“So what’s really going on with you?” I asked. “Is it Sebastian? Because I’ve noticed he hasn’t been around here much lately—”

Sarah ripped the supply request form from the printer and said, “I’m going to Central Supply to get more markers and construction paper. Thanks to all the floor decorations the RAs made, we’re almost out,” and barreled from the office, almost colliding with Lisa Wu, who was on her way into the office. Sarah didn’t stop to apologize.

“What’s with her?” Lisa asked as Sarah fled past, stifling a sob.

“She won’t say. How are you?” I asked. I was kind of relieved for the interruption. “Almost moved in?”

“Getting there.” Lisa, dressed in flip-flops, shorts, and one of her seemingly endless supply of T-shirts, was holding a tray of enormous iced coffee drinks in one hand and a leash in the other. At the end of the leash was a small brown and white dog. “I wanted to stop by and introduce you to the other man in my life, since this one’ll probably be spending a lot of time with us in the office. This is Tricky. I call him Tricky because he knows a lot of tricks. Tricky, bang.”

Tricky, a Jack Russell terrier, promptly fell over onto the office floor, pretending to be dead.

Charmed, I said, “He’s adorable. I have a dog too. Her name is Lucy. But she doesn’t know any—”

“Freeze,” a voice called from the hallway. Startled, Lisa’s dog leapt back to his feet.

It was only Jared Greenberg, Jordan Loves Tania’s “field producer.” With him was the camera guy I remembered from the night of the Tania Incident, along with Marcos, the sound guy. The camera appeared to be on, since I could see a red light blinking on the side of it and the camera operator had the lens up to his face.

“Can you make him do that again?” Jared asked Lisa excitedly, pointing at Tricky.

“Uh,” she said, looking panicky. I would too if I was sweaty from moving stuff all day and had on no makeup and cutoffs, and some big-time TV producer was trying to film me. “Not right now. I only came down to get these drinks for my parents—they’re upstairs in my apartment, helping me unpack. Hafta be ready for tomorrow, right? Oh, there’s the elevator, gotta go, bye.”