Page 105 of Wicked Pickle

Then it buzzes again.

And again.

Something’s happening.

It has to be Diesel. Maybe he’s in trouble. Maybe the Pickles took them somewhere. Maybe he’s the one who needs rescuing.

Sweat beads on my brow. I dab it with my fingers, not wanting to mess up my makeup.

The buzzing stops.

It’s hard to breathe. I’m miserably hot in these layers and dying to know who messaged me.

Maybe I can sneak a glance.

I watch the woman from the corner of my eye as I slip my hand into my purse.

Perhaps I can simply angle it from inside. My fingers brush against the smooth surface. I tilt it, but too many notifications are stacked.

I make sure the woman isn’t looking and swipe the screen.

The top one is Bailey.

I need to talk to you.

Yeah, whatever.

Unless she knows where Diesel is.

Unless he’s going through her to get to me.

Oh, gosh.

I can’t take it. I adjust my purse to act as a shield and quickly pull out my phone, hiding it on the far side so the desk woman can’t see it.

Sid notices and grunts, settling further down in his seat.

Whatever.

I flick through the messages.

It’s all Bailey.

I know you’re mad.

But Sherman and Martin went to the bar and talked to Diesel and Merrick.

Sherman said he’d come back today to help with some permit problem. But D&M aren’t there. The staff won’t talk. D&M aren’t answering texts or calls.

Can you please tell Diesel to stop shutting them out? They’re trying to help!

I dump my phone back in my bag.

No, no, and hell no. I’m not helping Bailey or the Pickles, not like I could anyway. I have no way of knowing where Diesel is.

But it’s clear he’s shut everyone out.

The door near the desk opens, and a tall woman in a pantsuit very similar to mine, but with a pink shirt, calls my name.

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