Page 18 of That Reilly Boy
I have to get this deal done. For me. And now also for Cara.
Chapter Thirteen
Cara
I asked Hayden for a few days to work on Gin, but we’re on day three now and she’s still barely speaking to me. Her silence and pinched expression every time she sees me makes it hard to have any conversation at all, never mind a productive one.
Usually her displeasure with me burns itself out in forty-eight hours or less, but when I got home from work today, she was clearly still in a mood. Now I’m clearing the table after another uncomfortable supper, not sure how to break the ice.
She didn’t even share the leftover chicken parm with me Sunday night, because she knew Hayden paid for it.
That’s next-level petty, even for her, and it’s triggering something more like actual anger than the usual annoyance in me. I don’t care how many generations of Gambles and Reillys haven’t gotten along—there’s no reason for her to hate Hayden so much. She hasn’t had a conversation with him as a grown man and never—as far as I know—had a conversation with him when we were growing up.
My phone—sitting faceup on the counter—chimes and the text message is so short, the entire thing shows in the preview when I pick it up.
MEL
WTF?
I realize, in all the turmoil, I lost track of when Mel was due back from camping. I should have sent a message, letting it hang there so she’d get it the second she had cell signal again.
It’s unthinkable I forgot to update the one person I’ve been telling every single thing in my life since third grade. Melinda Pearson and I ran with a tight group of four girls right up through graduation. Two went off to college and never came back. Mel went off to college, but she did come back. She married a mechanic and they’re the only reason my car passes inspection every year. He gives a really good wife’s-best-friend discount.
Truthfully, I didn’t entirely forget. The fact I need to update Mel on the unexpected developments in my life has crossed my mind several times, but I didn’t tell her I was having dinner with Hayden, whether she could read it right away or not. I’m not sure what my best friend’s reaction is going to be when I tell her I’m basically touching a hot stove that’s burned me before.
Another text message comes through while I’m trying to pull up the app to respond to the first one.
MEL
My mom went into Sherry’s to buy Harry 7.0 and overheard your mom telling Sherry that you went on a date with HAYDEN FREAKIN’ REILLY.
I smile as I type.
CARA
Harry 6.0 didn’t make it very long.
Harry was the name given to the cactus Mel’s dad gifted her mom for their anniversary three years ago. When he teased her about hoping something that didn’t require much care might survive her, Mel’s mom swore Harry the Cactus would outlive him. Unfortunately, making the vow didn’t come with a miraculously green thumb, so she kept having to replace Harry with a fresh alive version, hoping her husband wouldn’t notice.
Emily and Bob Pearson have always been like bonus parents for me, which might be another reason I haven’t updated Mel. They’ve been dropping a lot of hints lately about how I should find somebody other than my mother to share my life with, and I don’t want them getting their hopes up.
Mel responds to my text with a flurry of emojis that translates roughly to yelling about how she’s so annoyed with me right now, she’d probably throw her phone at me if we were together. Since she’s the type to actually get in her car and drive to wherever I am to do just that, I cave.
CARA
It wasn’t a date. It was more like a business meeting.
MEL
I’m too busy to call or to text all the thoughts in my head right now. Basically, LIAR. Spill.
I definitely don’t want her to call, since Gin—who’s washing the dishes I cleared—would be able to hear my side of the conversation. I type out an overview of everything that’s happened so far, ending with a plea not to call because my mom’s nearby and not happy about it.
After a few seconds, her response comes through.
MEL
Is he still hot?
