I nod. I was always gonna insist. I make three times what she does. And I don’t trust her to treat herself.
“How long do we keep this up?”
“Through the wedding.”
She shakes her head. “Until a month after. Otherwise, it seems fake.”
Fair enough. “I’m still finishing your website.”
“I know.”
“And asking you how it’s going every day.”
“I know.”
“And offering you advice on every design question you have.”
“Are you just giving me information I know?”
“I need you at the wedding. Even if Mr. Powers wants to snap you up first.”
“I know.”
“But I don’t want shit to get weird.”
Her cheeks flush. “Me too. We’re adults. We’ll discuss it like adults.”
“That possible?”
“I can do it. Can you?”
Maybe. “Yeah.” I take her hand.
Shake.
Watch as she pulls up Facebook, changes her relationship status.
Do the same with my cell.
There it is.
We’re official.
This is either the smartest thing I’ve ever done or the stupidest.
One of the two.
Chapter 9
Ryan
Leighton smiles as she hands my client a receipt. Then a pen.
She presses her palms into the counter, leans forward, squeezes her arms to push her tits together.
She always does this shit.
Usually, I shrug it off.