Page 40 of Designed for Disaster

TRENT

“Ireally appreciate all the advice you gave Jimmy tonight,” I said as we made our way back to the city.

The corner of Natasha’s mouth curled. She glanced over her shoulder before merging onto the New Jersey Turnpike. “I was happy to do it. I remember being his age. The world can feel very…overwhelming when you’re eighteen. Sometimes all you need is someone older telling you it’s all going to be okay.”

The U-Haul lurched, and we both chuckled nervously.

“I really hope you never rent from this company again,” Natasha said.

“God, no,” I grumbled. “I’ve been so scarred by this experience that I’m starting my own moving company. I’m gonna have a whole fleet of trucks.”

She laughed. “If you make them all electric trucks, you can stay on the sustainability grind. And you could actually deliver your own furniture instead of outsourcing.”

I snorted. “Sounds expensive.”

“Sounds better for the environment,” she said. “You’d be like farm to table but instead it’d be tree to?—”

“Living room?” I suggested.

She laughed. “Exactly.”

“Do you have siblings?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. Only child.”

I hummed. “I sort of thought you might, the way you were with Jimmy tonight.”

“I always wanted a little brother,” I said. “I think I would have fought with a sister over literally everything. But a brother would have been great.”

“Jimmy is pretty awesome,” I agreed. “I really hope he takes your advice and checks out the resources available to him.”

“Me too. That’s one of the things my parents always encouraged me to do. I wasn’t lying when I said I used to really struggle in school. But they kept me from losing confidence and helped me figure out who to talk to, like the guidance counselor I mentioned. Without help from all of them, I probably would have flunked multiple courses in high school.” She turned my way for a brief second. “Actually, you reminded me of my parents tonight.”

“I did?” I grimaced, vaguely horrified by the thought. The last thing I wanted was for Natasha to think of me as a father figure.

She laughed, the sound light and airy, filling the cab. I delighted in that sound, in being the one to make her laugh. I wanted to do it again, imagining the flush of pink that would spread across her cheekbones.

“Only in the way you were encouraging Jimmy,” she explained. “You don’tactuallylook like them or anything.”

Well, thank god for that. “I bet they’re proud of everything you’ve accomplished,” I said. “What do they think of you working for Saunders Furniture now?”

Natasha’s smile immediately slipped away. The energy in the cab shifted so quickly it was like being plunged into an ice bath. I’d seen her mood darken before when she was annoyed with me. But this felt different. This Natasha looked…Well, frankly, she seemed sad. “Natasha?—”

“Sorry,” she said, cutting me off. She squeezed the wheel with both hands, her knuckles blanching.

“Is everything okay? If I’ve overstepped somehow?—”

“You haven’t,” she insisted. “Really. It’s just…I don’t actually know if my parents would be proud.” She shrugged, staring out the windshield. “I mean, I think they would be. But it’s not like I can ask them.”

“What do you mean?”

Her head turned toward me then away just as quickly. “They died several years ago.”

My heart plummeted into my stomach. “God, Natasha.” I ran my hand through my hair awkwardly. How could I bring the conversation back from this? “I’m so…I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You didn’t know. And it’s been a while. I guess sometimes it still hits me like it’s brand-new information, which is ridiculous.”

“That’s not ridiculous,” I said, frowning at her. Why would she think that? “That’s grief. And as far as I know, it doesn’t follow any kind of timeline.”

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