Page 66 of Emergency Exit
No. No, to all of that.
“Forest said he was burned out,” said Ash. “I should call you directly, shouldn’t I?”
“Yes,” said Chloe.
Ash understood that, and he still didn’t want to do it. He looked up at Chloe. She looked incredibly sympathetic. Somehow, that made it worse.
“You’re a nice person,” he said and then blushed. “I’m kind of spazzing out.”
“Are you? I thought you just needed some time to sit with your emotions.”
“Yeah, that’s...” He stopped, realizing he was about to restate what she said. He hadn’t had anyone nail his emotions before he did since therapy. Chloe might be an original weirdo with only five pairs of underwear to her name, but she was smarter than ninety percent of the people he associated with. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone.
“Just give me your phone number so I can stop being awkward in public.”
“Sure,” said Chloe, holding her phone face up and showing her number. It had big buttons like a cell phone designed for old people. He wondered why Forest hadn’t gotten her a new phone.
“I gave up feeling awkward in public,” said Chloe as he added her as a contact in his phone.
“You stopped being awkward?” asked Ash uncertainly.
“Oh, no. I’m definitely awkward. I just stopped feeling bad about it.”
“Must be nice.” Ash heard the sarcastic note in his voice and tried to tamp it down. It irked him that she got to be as weird as she wanted.
“It is. I recommend it to everyone.”
“OK, well, I haven’t,” he said bitterly, “so I’m going to go now.”
“OK,” said Chloe with a shrug.
Ash got in his car and resisted the urge to floor the gas pedal and peel out of the driveway. Chloe seemed nice, but her relationship with Forest was doomed to disaster. Why was he the only one who saw it? Except for taking care of Olly, Chloe wasn’t an asset. He didn’t think that was being mean—it was just a fact.
21
Ash
Reset
Ash walked toward Harper’s office. He was excited to see her. Their text exchange over Thanksgiving had reassured him. He just needed to get the money situation sorted, and then he and Harper could be proper friends again.
Friends.
The thought was depressing.
He knew he didn’t want to just be friends. He felt like he’d friend-zoned himself by being an idiot, and now friends was the best he could hope for.
Ash parked and then got out, trying to give himself a pep talk. He just needed to fix the situation, get back in Harper’s good graces, and then be honest with… everyone about everything.
Like that wasn’t utterly daunting. How had he managed to get himself into this hole?
Harper’s building was in a cute Ballard neighborhood, and the lobby was a communal space for multiple businesses. As Ash approached the front doors of Harper’s building, he saw her through the large pane-glass windows. Harper was standing near the front, talking to a man.
The first thing Ash noticed about the man was that he wasn’t wearing socks with his boat shoes. Ash knew it was a legit fashion choice, but it still gave him the ick. Also, it was December, and likely to rain at any minute. Weren’t his ankles cold? The second thing Ash noticed was that the man was leaning over Harper—way too far into her space—and Harper was hunched away from him.
Ash pulled open the door and prepared to approach cautiously in case Harper didn’t want his help.
“Jesus, Harper, you’re so helpless,” said the man, and Ash’s fist clenched involuntarily. “You can’t remember anything.”
