Page 70 of Hate You Later
“Hey, you have an unopened package here.” Kenna stops when she gets to the box that was dropped off this morning. “Doesn’t look like your normal deliveries. Did you buy yourself something? What’s in that fancy box?”
“Oh, that box … right. Totally forgot to open it,” I say. “It’s probably samples from some company that wants me to carry them in the shop. I filled out way too many forms when I was at the pet expo. Some of those vendors can be pretty pushy.”
“Hmm.” Kenna shrugs and checks the time. “Well, I’d love to stick around, but I’m having dinner with Uber Eats Carlos and his wife. Homemade tamales. You good here?”
“I’m great. Thanks so much for helping me,” I say.
“No plans for tonight?” she asks.
“No, but Cookie and I will be just fine. We’re going to watch some TV and get a good night’s sleep. I’m just going to finish up with these forms and listen to a littleLit Loversbefore I head home.”
“Okay. Shoot me a message on the laptop if you need anything,” Kenna says. “And I mean it, too, Georgia. Xander’s not your only family. You’re stuck with me as well.” She gives me a quick hug.
“Thanks for keeping me from dating serial killers,” she says.
“The right guy is out there,” I say, believing this for her with all my heart.
I lock the door behind her as she leaves. Then I go back to the counter and open up my laptop to search for theLit Lovers’podcast. I still can’t get over the memory of Jackson officiating during my duel with Hudson. He’d been even more quirkily charismatic in person than he was on the show. But I’m still having a hard time understanding how the Jane Austen-loving podcast host could be lifelong besties with Hudson Holm.
While the episode downloads, I put away the snaps and Velcro. I’m facing away from the door when I hear the sound of knocking outside the shop.
I turn to see if Kenna forgot something. But it isn’t her, it’s Hudson.
What on earth is he doing here now? His hair is mussed and he’s wearing sweats. He looks a little agitated.
Warily, I unlock the door.
“So,” he says. “I’ve been waiting all day. Are you going to open the box already?”
hudson
I driveinto town as the sun is setting, hoping that Georgia’s reaction to seeing me will be less violent than the red and orange streaks slashing the sky. If she doesn’t open the freaking box already, though, I’m going to lose it.
It’s been two days and fourteen hours since I discovered that Georgia was Cookie and Cookie was Georgia, and for some reason, this information is much harder for me to digest than the fact that Bryce did deliberately knock off Georgia’s designs.
Suddenly, everything makes perfect sense:
Cookie wrote that her owner, who owned ashop, broke her phone on Thursday night.
Georgia was waving an ancient flip phone around on Friday.
Cookie hasn’t posted anything in three days.
I had to do something. Say something. But what? I couldn’t just show up and say “Hey, Cookie, I know who you really are!”
So, I went shopping.
As soon as I woke up yesterday, I went out and bought a brand-new, top-of-the-line phone. Georgia/Cookie isn’t going to be able to keep up with the challenge assignments (let alone run a business) without a functional mobile phone.
It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do, I tell myself. As buddies, her success and mine are tied together.
Once I started shopping, it was hard to stop.
I wasn’t sure what kind of case Georgia would want for her phone, so I bought three from the kiosk in the mall. One with stars. One with dogs. And a third bright-red one that’s waterproof and drop proof.
I kept picturing Georgia’s winning smile from the other night, and I imagined the photos she’d be able to take with better equipment. This led me to the camera aisle, where I picked up a ring light, a tripod, and a gimbal—just in case she wants to do more video.
When I got home, I unwrapped the phone and got to work planning and making a video of my own. A video that will hopefully explain everything.
