Page 42 of Mine

Beth shook her head. “He’s disrespectful.”

“He is,” Nancy said. “Such a fucking brat. I think having all those little followers online is going to his head.”

“Probably,” Beth said.

“Okay,” I chuckled. I was hungry, so I wasn’t going to wait another minute. Especially when it was something Beth cooked. “I’ll eat real quick and then get to work on the cross.” I glanced over at the piece I’d started Thursday. It was built, but needed a coat of stain and a few other customizations that’d been requested.

I wondered how tall Pepper was… exactly.

I snapped out of my reverie and realized they were both staring at me. Nancy made a face. “Are you high?”

“No,” I sighed. “Just thinking.”

“About?” Nancy pressed.

“None of your business.”

“Alright,” Beth said. “Let me loose, pretty please?”

Nancy smirked. I covered my ears before she said anything and left the garage quickly, a lingering cackle following me down the path to their house.

They lived in a nice, quiet neighborhood outside of Nashville, and had a few acres of land. There was even a barn, which was really just used for storing the van we used to deliver furniture. Or when Nancy had a kidnapping CNC scene to play out.

The back door was unlocked. I slipped inside, kicked off my shoes, and went through the sunroom to the kitchen. A pot simmered on the stove and I inhaled the delicious scent of soup, my stomach grumbling in response.

My heart leaped into my throat at the feeling of my phone rattling against my thigh.I pulled it out immediately.

Not Pepper.

I sighed. It was just an email notification from Tommy. I opened it, quickly looking over the contents. On Friday at ten a.m. I was meeting with him and some guy named Jeff. My brows shot up when I saw that his email [email protected].

Did that mean I was meeting with the vice president, too? What the fuck was happening? Wasn’t that skipping a whole lot of other steps?

I ignored the other notifications on my phone and put it back in my pocket. A few minutes later, I settled at the kitchen bar with a heaping bowl of soup and tortilla chips.

I was getting a little obsessed, wasn’t I?

It wasn’t healthy, probably.

Beth came through the kitchen doorway. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” I said between bites. “The soup is great.”

“Ya know what else is great?”

Oh god. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“An invite to your show.”

My mouth opened and then closed. I hadn’t expected that. “It’s downtown.”

“And?”

“It’s loud.”

“And?”

“I just didn’t think either of you would want to go out on a Friday night.”

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