Page 90 of Up in Smoke

“Good . . . I’m done with—what are you doing?” I lift my arms and throw a puzzled look at Savannah, who’s circling me and lifting the bottom of my sweatpants.

“Wax,” she whispers.

Blythe continues to type.

“Okay.” I slap my hands down at my sides and let out a breathy laugh. “I see what this is. Guys, I’m so glad to see you. But I’m fine. Really! This is so unnecessary.”

“No spray tan needed,” Savannah adds. “But glowy lotion would be perfect. Add that to the to-do list.”

Once again, Blythe types on her phone to add to what I assume is a running list of things they need to do to make me over in time for the wedding.

“Stop.” I slump my shoulders and tilt my head back. “I’ve been in my work cave doing final touches before we have to send everything off to beta testers on Friday. You caught me at a bad time.”

“Your little work cave smells like cheese dip, girl.”

I pin Savannah with a glare and shift my efforts to Blythe, who is usually easier to bargain with.

“You believe me, right?”

“Love ya.” Blythe smiles and then quickly winces. “But no.”

“Alright.” I sit down in a chair at the table. After staring at it for a moment, I decide to move all the work-related junk to the couch and then retake my seat. “So, I take it Tripp’s been filling everyone in on our fight, and you’re here because you think I’m depressed or slowly sinking into the floor or something?”

“No, you had a fight? Have you spoken since?”

I wave a hand at Savannah. “Shut up. I know you know.”

She laughs and takes the seat next to me while Blythe sits perched in the one across the table. “Let’s all hold hands and light some candles. There are plenty of Etsy witches to take care of this mess before the wedding.”

“We’re not doing that.” Savannah rolls her eyes at Blythe’s suggestion.

Three knocks sound at my front door, and my brows furrow.

It’s then that I remember Hattie was set to come over this afternoon to drop off a book. No matter how hard I tried to get her to reschedule, she wouldn’t. Probably because I’d cried to her over the phone for an hour on Sunday. She knows Tripp and I had a fight, and after laughing that we only lasted a daybefore everything went to shit, she insisted I shouldn’t be alone all week.

I stand from the table and lean forward to warn the girls, but two knocks on the door stop me in my tracks. Too late.

“So,” I say, quiet and uneasy. “Do you guys, like, hate Hattie Jo? Or?”

“Hattie Jo?” Blythe twists her face. Savannah’s eyes go wide.

“Yes,” I rush out in a whisper. “Hattie Jo. Do you hate her?”

“Yes,” Blythe says at the same time that Savannah says, “No.”

“Cool,” I reply with a smile. “This is fine.”

Savannah points toward the door when two more knocks rap against it. “Is that her?”

I close my eyes and nod.

“I don’t actuallyhateher,” Blythe says in a hushed voice. “That’s harsh. We’re not even well acquainted. But you can’t blame me for disliking her. It’s only natural considering the fact I’ve been around Heston for what? Over a year now? That girlfucked. Him.Up. Raw, no lube.”

“Nice visual. I know this is weird, but just be nice, okay? She’s my friend, and there’s no way Heston is totally innocent.” I stare at the girls until they both nod, then raise my voice. “Come in!”

“This feels like treason,” Savannah mutters. “Maybe she won’t realize who we are.”

Blythe leans close to her. “Yeah, right. She probably stalks the guys enough to be aware of who we are. I dare her to try something. Say the word and I’ll take my earrings out.”

---