Page 83 of Bishop's Queen

Jay gawked. Ella didn’t have her phone on her? And Tara allowed this? Things as Jay understood them had been changing since Bishop had come around. But this was different. “Where is she?”

“Jay, I am not her keeper. And neither are you. I know everything we’ve talked about—”

“Not on the phone, Tara.”

“Fine, whatever. But neither one of us are her keepers. She’s safe. She’s a grown woman. She took a day off after a really big event. She’s our boss; we work for her. Not vice versa. Whether I like it or not, she calls the shots.”

The whole world had gone insane. Tara had lost her ever-loving mind. Ella didn’t have her phone. What would happen next? Freaking monkeys would fall from the sky, and the street would break open with lava spouts? Nothing logical was happening. “Screw off, Tara.”

He hung up, more determined to call Ella’s father.

***

Bishop had downed meat and potatoes and listened aboutthe bees. All last week, Ella had talked about them, with Manny piping up in excitement whenever he’d been around. That, on top of the lavender and mint, had been and continued to be her favorite things to talk about. Finally, Ella had a day off, and all through a decidedly lopsided order of his meal and her fruit and oatmeal—water only, please—she had determined the day would be spent catching up on herb and insect errands.

Fun…

But it hadn’t been half bad. It started by breezing in and out of her condo. The green shit on the side of her building was gone. Manny had come and gone twice, leaving her dog and cat happy campers.

Now Bishop and Ella, with her pets, were all loaded into his truck. They’d run the course of Ella’s list, dropping off containers of herbs. Bishop likened the process to an adult version of a Girl Scout on her cookie run. People were stoked to see her.

The afternoon crept by, and they were at the end of her to-do list, scouting locations for her to film a couple of videos. They had made their way through several parks and nature preserves in northern Virginia. Who knew there were so many?

This last stop was as good as all the rest in his mind, but this park spoke to Ella in some fashion. Her dog ran circles in the park, and the kitten was stuck to Ella’s skirt. All in all, Bishop had to admit, running these kinds of errands wasn’t a bad gig.

“When did this Eco-Ella stuff become your life’s mission?” he asked, watching FB chase a dragonfly. How often did her cotton-ball dog get into the wild? Brick could show FB a thing or two about bugs.

“I think it was always there.” She played with her skirt, letting LK jump and toy with the hem. “I mean, you remember that I was into the outdoors.”

“There’s a difference between wanting to hang outside and taking off after college to go do what you did.”

“Maybe.”

His bullshit alarm chimed. Ella’s passion generally evoked an ass chewing or learning opportunity. The way she focused on her kitten said there was more to her transformation. “Why, Ella? I don’t get it.”

“It’s important.”

“It’s air.”

“Exactly.” But her focus never came off the playing cat.

What wasn’t she sharing with the world? “I get it. We need it. To breathe. To live. Yada. Yada.”

“It’s also beautiful—”

Bishop pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, babe. You’re beautiful.”

Caught off guard, her chin tilted up, revealing her flushed cheeks.

Damn, totally beautiful.But his curiosity wasn’t going to be appeased by her looks. “What I’m saying is—”

Ella stopped playing with LK and came closer. “Close your eyes.”

His eyebrow lifted. “Why?”

“Do it.”

“And if I don’t?”

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