Page 77 of Keep Your Guard Up
My phone buzzed in the middle of one of her stories.
Chance: Be there soon. Got held up with JJ. X
My stomach was in the middle of doing flips when another message buzzed through.
JJ: If Chance tries to tell you I’m the reason he’s late, he’s lying.
Me: What did you do?
JJ: We’re supposed to be friends—you’re meant to believe ME!
“Sorry, Mel. JJ’s just having trouble with something,” I explained.
She began rambling on about how he was always having some sort of trouble while I typed.
Me: What did you do?
JJ: I can’t believe this. 20 years of friendship for what? Nothing but mistrust.
Mari: JJ, what did you do?
JJ: Chance was the one who said you can cook chicken tenders in the microwave!He didn’t tell me it was one of those things where you had to take the plastic off too!
Mari: I don’t know how you haven’t poisoned yourself yet.
JJ: Gut of steel. STEEL, Lynnie. Have fun on your date tonight! #teamChari
My fingers were just about to hit send on a witty reply when another pair of heels clicked in behind me.
A tall, stiletto-wearing blonde walked into the gym cautiously, cringing at the very ground she walked on, seemingly afraid the concrete flooring would damage her shiny pink shoes. Her long blonde hair was wrapped into multiple interlacing curls and slung over one shoulder. A bronze colour coated her skin, but the tiniest of orange tint told me it wasn’t real. She wore an expensive-looking two-piece set that was such a bright shade of pink it was almost an eyesore. There was lipstick to match, and fake lashes so long Mel would be fangirling.
“Hi, darl,” Mel greeted. “Can I help you?”
“I’m hoping so.” Her plumped lips rubbed together as she clicked over to the desk. “I’m looking for someone.”
“Who’re you chasing?” Mel asked sweetly, though I could see her eyeing the woman’s Prada purse.
“I’m looking for Chance. Chance Riordan.”
“Does he know you’re coming to see him?” Mel, bless her, tried to ask as respectfully as possible without sounding nosey.
“He should,” she said incredulously. “I’m Talia. His wife.”
Chapter 42
Chance
“For fuck sake, JJ! You don’t cook the packet!”
“You didn’t tell me that!” he argued, joining me in waving smoke out of the kitchen windows in hopes of getting the smoke alarm to shut off.
“I didn’t think I had to!” I defended.
“You said, ‘Yeah, bro, just chuck the whole pack in’! No part of that sentence implies any removal of the actual packet!”
“I’m going to put you in the microwave if I’m not only late for meeting Sunny, but Ialsoturn up smelling like I’ve just walked out of a fucking cremation,” I growled.
“Don’t be so dramatic. She used to smoke; she’ll be fine.”
