Lip Service (Private Relations 2)

Continuing, she said, “We were always friends. I always liked and respected him. I thought it would be strange, transitioning from one circumstance to the other, but it’s been seamless. It seems natural and it’s all just getting better.”

Taking a sip of her coffee, Sara said, “Did it not occur to you that you’ve probably been in love with him for a long time? Like, longer than you’ve been doing whatever you

’re doing?”

Nodding, Chloe said, “I’ve been considering that, and it seems likely. I don’t think either of us is ready to have the conversation yet about what this is and where we’re heading. I feel like we’re on the same page though.”

Sara shook her head and said, “Communication is important. Shit falls apart if you don’t talk.”

“Noted,” Chloe said, “I will take it under advisement. I just don’t want to scare him away. He’s not anticommitment, but I think he might be anti talking about commitment.”

Laughing now, Sara said, “Oh, you mean he’s a guy?”

Chloe said, “Oh yeah. All man.”

Changing the subject, they managed to kill the remaining drive talking about Sara’s wedding job last night. Apparently the groom had gotten so drunk he’d almost fallen into the cake. The bride had been so pissed off she left the reception early.

Five hours later, Chloe was certain of two things. First, Sara shopped like a general. She had a battle plan laid out that included knowing which stores were having sales, the layout of the mall and each store, including the location of the racks with the deeply discounted items. The second thing she was certain of was that she never wanted to shop with Sara again. Ever.

Her back and feet were aching, and Sara kept dragging her from store to store. She’d purchased two items in the thirty stores they’d looked at. She was bored to tears and ready to pass out.

Finally, she begged. “Sara. Please let’s stop for lunch. I’m literally about to pass out. I need food. We’ve walked eleven million miles.”

Looking over at her, Sara started laughing and said, “You sound so much like your brother.”

She continued to laugh until she was almost out of breath then continued, “I think he might have said the exact same thing to me when we came here last time.”

Smirking, Chloe said, “He practically raised me. Of course we sound alike. But seriously. Food. And a chair. I need those.”

Sighing deeply, Sara said, “Fine, fine. I know I’m a bit Type A when I shop.”

They walked over to the closest restaurant, which happened to be a small Mexican place. Two tacos and a large Coke later, Chloe felt revived and ready to take on another couple hours of shopping.

It was six by the time they wrapped up, and Chloe was definitely never ever shopping with Sara again. She’d ended up hauling some of Sara’s bags back to the car along with her own. Her back hurt, and the arches of her feet throbbed. She’d even worn comfortable, ugly shoes.

Shoving the bags into her trunk and also backseat, they drove back to her apartment, Sara snickering every so often when Chloe would mumble some variation of “Never again.”

When they got back to Chloe’s, Sara transferred her bags into her car and gave Chloe a quick hug.

Chloe stood in the parking lot a minute before calling Deacon.

When he picked up, she immediately said, “What the hell, Deacon! How could you not warn me about this? I literally think my feet are gonna fucking fall off!”

Deacon laughed hysterically into the phone for a minute or so and said, “She’s insane, right? I thought maybe you had a latent shopping gene that hadn’t activated yet. Guess not, huh kiddo?”

“You suck, Deacon.”

Laughing, he asked, “How much did she buy?”

“I had to help her carry the bags back to the car. She ran out of hands,” Chloe said.

“Shit. We’re gonna have to get a house at this rate. That woman shops like no one I’ve ever seen,” he said.

“What about her old place?”

“Just a rental. She put some stuff in storage and the rest of it she sold. There’s no way we can continue living in my place though, if she keeps having weekends off. I have no closet space anymore,” he sighed.

Hearing her phone beep, she said, “Gotta go. Freaking jerk. Another call.”