Axl’s tone was different, brisk and commanding, when he asked, “Does she feel they pose a serious threat?”
God.
My guy.
Such a good guy and so protective.
“No, honey,” I assured. “She was joking. Or not joking, making a joke while complaining.”
“Right.”
“So …” I said, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.
“So?” he asked, not filling in the blanks.
Which meant I had to.
“Um, obviously, with all of this, Auggie needs to get a move on.”
“Babe.”
That word was dripping discouragement.
“She’s got no one in her corner, Axl.”
I heard a sigh and then, “I get that you’d want your friend to be happy, but maybe they weren’t meant to be.”
“Mag and Evie found a house, one they both love and even Gert likes. Evie showed us the pictures at the shower.”
Gert was Evie’s friend, a highly opinionated, very hilarious elderly lady, who for some reason, Mag and Evie took house hunting with them.
Maybe it was because Mag got a huge kick out of her, Evie adored her, and none of her kids lived close, so they looked out for her and did that by getting her out of her house and listening to her tell them where they should live.
“Hattie—”
“Boone and Ryn also found a house, the next one they’re going to flip,” I went on.
“Baby.”
That was soft and sweet.
But he didn’t then say, “I see your point. I’ll get on Auggie straightaway.”
So it was time to pull out the big guns.
“And I want us to declare Sundays our days where we eat in bed and have lots of sex and maybe expend the effort to go out and sit in the Jacuzzi, but that’s all the effort we expend. Of course, that is, when we’re not having sex.”
“Baby.”
And that was his purr.
I so totally knew he’d be into that idea.
“Not to mention, it’s no coincidence that Smithie’s shutdown coincides with Lottie and Mo’s two-week honeymoon.”
“Ha—”
“So maybe it won’t work out,” I kept at him. “Maybe they’ll be the unfortunate ones in all of us that don’t click. But Pepper deserves to have a guy put it on the line for her. Make her feel like more than a mom. Even if for a little while, make her life about more than looking out for, taking care of and protecting her daughter.”
“I know she deserves that, honey, and I want that for her too. But you’re asking me to push my boy into being that guy who puts it on the line. And I sense, from how pissed he got at me for getting in his face about it, that maybe he’s already tried that. It didn’t work. And he isn’t fired up to go there again. It feels good you think we all got it so goin’ on that getting shot down will just deflect off us and we move on. But you gotta know, it sucks for us just like it would for anyone to make a move only to crash and burn.”
Interesting.
“Have you ever been shot down?”
“Uh … yeah.”
Wow.
“Really?” I asked.
“Babe, it was you who shot me down.”
Oh.
Right.
“Repeatedly,” he went on.
Eek!
“So you can see my hesitation in pushing Aug into going for Pepper,” he finished.
I was hearing him, but I wasn’t hearing him.
Because I’d turned into the LoHi space that used to be long lines of storage units, but had been repurposed into studios, with a couple of small galleries, shops, a little café, a littler coffee bar and the morning load-up and evening stowage of a few food trucks.
Including, coincidentally, the line of Joy of Food trucks that could be seen around Denver.
And outside my unit, which was tucked into a corner of one of the L-shaped buildings, was Brett’s shiny black town car.
Next to it was a sporty Mercedes.
And outside my studio door stood Joe, Brett’s driver.
And I was not freaking because Brett was there or upset because they were taking up my two parking spots.
I was freaking and upset because Brett was there, obviously with someone, and they were nowhere to be seen outside.
Which meant they were inside.
With my work.
“Hattie,” Axl called.
“I’ve gotta go,” I told him. “I’m at the studio and Brett’s also here.”
“Sorry?”
“Brett’s here, as in, here, as in, I think he’s inside my studio.”
“I’m on my way,” he stated.
“You don’t have—”
I didn’t finish that because he was gone.
I also didn’t redial him to tell him he didn’t have to intervene with me and whatever Brett was up to, I could handle it, and I didn’t because it would do no good.
I also didn’t because I had to park in a spot that wasn’t mine, two units down and hoof it back to mine …and fast.
“Is he in there?” I asked Joe before I even made it to him.
“Heya, Hattie,” Joe said as answer.
“Hey,” I returned shortly. “Is he in there?”
“Yep.”
Grr!
Brett.
I walked by Joe, pulled open my door, and stopped when I got inside, confused.