Page 20 of Hopeless Romantic
“Just warm is all.”
“Your house is an icebox, and you’re in a tank top and damp jeans.” Annie studied her through assessing eyes. Beckett smiled casually. Annie wasn’t buying it. “I’ll find out.” She lifted the pink box and wafted it under Beckett’s nose. “I have my ways.”
Beckett took in a whiff of the sweet treat hiding inside. A quick glance at the pink box and then her friend’s smile, and every one of her approach-with-caution bells went off. “What’s in the box?”
Beckett would be able to determine what kind of visit this was based on Annie’s answer. Together with their friend Lynn, they made up Ride or Pie: a girls-only, got-your-back, pie-mandatory kind of posse that meant as much to Beckett as her family. They also used to be a Man-Free Living club, but Beckett seemed to be the last man-free friend standing.
“Sorry, no pie. Lynn’s working.” They had a strict no-pie-partaking rule unless all members were accounted for. “I was walking by Holy Cannoli and thought you could use a little chocolate in your day.”
“Chocolate? You’re buttering me up.”
“You know, sometimes a treat is just a treat.” She waved the box enticingly.
“There’s never ajustwhen chocolate is involved.”
“I guess you’ll just have to see.” Annie laughed, plucking a feather out of Beckett’s hair. Then she stepped inside, too polite to comment on the chaotic nature of the Hayes’s family home.
Beckett was no Marie Kondo, but she did her best to keep a tidy house. Some days were better than others. Today fell into the “others” category. But there were only so many hours in the week, and only one Beckett.
While stressful and sometimes overwhelming, it was her reality. And she owned it like a grown-assed woman. “Let me grab Gregory’s carrier, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
In the two seconds it took to fetch Gregory’s things, Jeffery had disappeared into his studio, the rooster had barricaded himself under the table, and Annie had dropped to all fours, her butt in the air, clicking her tongue as if calling out to the neighborhood cat.
“What are you doing?” Beckett asked.
“Trying to love Gregory.” Unashamed, Annie wiggled until the rest of her body disappeared from view under the kitchen table.
“Peeee-cock cock cock cock,”Gregory warned. Sadly, Annie wasn’t fluent in Fowl.
“Ouch,” Annie cried. “Why won’t you let me love you?”
“It has to be on his terms.” Beckett placed the cage on the floor, taking a baby carrot out of the fridge.
“Typical male.” Annie came out with a tuft of feathers in her grasp. Beckett raised a brow. “I swear, I didn’t pull them. He’s just trying to make me look bad.”
“Mission accomplished. Now toss those out before Thomas catches you and repeats all the rules for handling a support companion.”
Footsteps came toward them, and Annie threw the feathers in the air, then ran to stand on the other side of the room.
“Don’t worry, it’s just my dad,” Beckett said, putting the carrot on the floor to tempt Gregory out.
Annie sagged with relief into a nearby chair. “Hi, Mr. Hayes. How are you?”
Jeffery walked right past Annie as if she didn’t exist and peeked in the to-go bag on the kitchen island.
Beckett batted back his hand and glared. “That’s for the Carmichaels. The pizza is for you and Thomas. And this is where you say, ‘Hi, Annie. I’m doing great, and how are you doing this fine day?’”
Jeffery looked almost childlike when he was sheepish. “Sorry, I’m working on a new song. It’s a short piece for a national commercial. Pork. You might think short equates to easy, but it’s actually much more difficult to tell a short story than long, especially when the topic is an interesting one.”
Annie bit back a smile. “Pork is interesting?”
“Oh, sure,” he said, sounding every bit the crazy composer. “It’s the other white meat and tends to be overshadowed by its better-known counterpart, chicken. It’s one of the greatest underdog stories in history, and I get to be its narrator. Put a voice to the centuries of misinformation and, frankly, the misrepresentation the pork industry has suffered.”
As if aware that his species was being defamed, Gregory ran out from beneath the table to peck at Jeffery’s untied shoelace. Jeffery ignored him and sat next to Annie.
“Just take the children’s movie,Babe, for instance. A two-hour propaganda piece on how—”
“Dad, don’t get comfortable. You have to take Thomas to class in a few minutes,” Beckett said. “Plus, you still haven’t said hi to Annie.”
