Page 24 of Just Business

“We did some pretty stupid stuff when we were teenagers, and we turned out all right,” I reassure her.

“Right? That’s what I keep reminding myself. I’m certainly paying for my raising. At least once a month I apologize to Mawmaw for being such a little shit,” she says, laughing. “She always tells me to trust that I’m raising mine right and everything will work out.”

“Well, she’s a smart lady.”

“That she is,” Josie agrees.

“How’s she doing?” Her Mawmaw’s health hasn’t been great lately. There have been a few times when she’d go to the grocery store and forget where she was. People in town call Josie to help her get back home.

“Last week she didn’t know who I was. It was only for a second and she tried to play it like it didn’t happen. It just sucks.” She goes quiet, blinking furiously. “I’m taking that one day at a time. Anyway, enough sad talk.”

* * *

The night passes with laughs that we both desperately need, and we end up having one too many glasses of wine. It’s rare for me to get tipsy, but when I do I get silly. It’s like I turn back into twenty-one-year-old Penny who is carefree and full of life. Josie suggests we move to the porch since we aren’t great at modulating the volume of our snort-laughs after too much wine.

I’ve completely lost track of time when I spot a familiar Longhorns ball cap bobbing toward us. Since Austin has no idea where Josie lives, he doesn’t notice us at first. But as he approaches her front walk, he slows to a stop.

“Penn, that you?” he calls out, and Josie’s head snaps over at me. My eyes cut to hers, and she mouths “Penn” to me, her own eyes full of mischief.

“It’s me. Come up here and meet Josie,” I yell back to him. “But hush up! Her kids are sleeping!” I motion toward her house with clumsy gestures.

He jogs up the steps, and I’m smiling up at him like an idiot, my wine brain dialed up to ten.

“Well now, looks like y’all had yourselves a good ol’ time.” He returns my smile, eyeing the boxed wine.

“Austin, this is Josie. Josie, this is Austin.” I introduce them while trying to keep a straight face. “He wants us to know he’s a famous country singer and also not an asshole.”

They both crack up and he shakes Josie’s hand. He spots Smudge and immediately kneels to pet him. My heart melts into a puddle watching him give Smudge belly rubs, Smudge’s back leg thumping away.

“D’ju have fun?” My words come out slightly slurred and I clap a hand over my mouth, giggling.

Austin sits, leaning against her porch railing, chuckling at my obvious state of inebriation. In his short time here he’s mostly seen the serious side of me. Business in the front, but sadly, no party in the back.

“Yeah, I had a real good time. Jackson was on his best behavior, and luckily, that poster on his wall captured my good side.” He turns his face like he’s modeling.

“Cocky asshole,” I reply through a breathy laugh.

“Yeah, but I think you don’t mind this cocky asshole too much.” One side of his mouth tilts up in a grin. “I'm growing on you.”

Josie’s head swivels between us, and I know all my words about professionalism from earlier have flown out the window as he and I shamelessly flirt back and forth.

“You’re all right, for a…Slonghorns fan. No. A Longhorns fan.” My words slur together, and both Josie and Austin burst out laughing.

“Oh, it’s like that now, huh? I see how it is.” He jumps up and plops his hat onto my head, but I flick it off like it's a bug.

Smudge takes off after the hat, and Austin has to wrangle it from his mouth. Eventually, Smudge loses interest and Austin secures it back on his head.

My wine buzz has me pleasantly fuzzy-headed as Austin and Josie make small talk about his time here. But when a huge, open-mouthed yawn escapes me, Austin stands.

“Looks like I need to get Miss Lightweight here home.”

Josie hugs us both, telling us how much she loves us. She loves everybody when she drinks. Austin shakes his head, chuckling, and then he and I head down the steps toward my house, his hand on my arm to steady my wobbly steps.

“Easy there, tiger,” he says when I sway slightly. “Here, hop on.” Austin squats, gesturing for me to jump onto his back.

I might be short, but I’m on the curvy side. Normally I might worry about being too heavy for someone to carry, but Austin is all muscle. I don’t know if that tour bus has a gym or what, but the man is fit. So I don’t think twice about whether he can hold me.

After a few tipsy false starts, I manage to clamber onto his back and he hefts me higher. My sandals keep slipping off, so Austin takes them, dangling them from his pinky. Leaning my nose close to his neck, I breathe in a whiff of him because, apparently that's what I do when I'm on the wine. He smells like clean laundry mixed with something spicy and dark from his cologne. I’m 100 percent certain that if I could bottle the mixture of all his scents, I could sell it and never have to worry about money again.

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