“Wait a second, I am so the brains. Marlie is pinky, duh.” Taylor is sitting in the front seat, delegating Ridge to the backseat per usual.
“Uh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but, Taylor, you are so pinky. I just bet you’re scheming something that will have us sitting in the backseat of a cop car with pretty new bracelets,” I tease her. One time in college, we were at a frat party, not that we were doing anything wrong, but the party got so rowdy, cops were called, and both of us underage drinking was definitely not smart. And you guessed whose idea it was. I told her it’d be smarter to drink back in our dorm or even a park, but Taylor was adamant we dress up and go to the party. She was hot to trot looking for her next “victim”, ahem, boy toy.
“That was one time.” I swing my head at her so hard, I’m shocked my neck doesn’t break.
“Sure, we’ll go with that.” This comes from Ridge. He knows all of our shenanigans and the stories from our past. He took Taylor, never missing a bit and loving her unconditionally, even with a trespassing record on a store in the mall. Which, to be honest, that was a ridiculous thing, and neither of us knew that we’d be walking into a store that would set her up for failure, so to speak. Neither of us, for that matter, knew that the guy Taylor was seeing, well, he was also seeing the sales associate, as in the biblical sense of seeing her. The lady trespassed her, got the mall security involved, and Taylor argued with them until she was blue in the face. Somehow, she sweet-talked her way out of me being trespassed. That was well over ten years ago. It’s likely that girl doesn’t work there anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever step foot in that store again either.
“So, Marlie. I just got an interesting phone call the exact minute we stepped off the plane. As well as texts and emails. Know anything about that?” God, Ridge is lucky I love him like a brother, or I’d be pulling over to the side of the road and kicking him out of my car.
“Nope, I have no idea,” I play the dumb girl.
“His name starts with a T and ends with an R.” This comes from my best friend, who’s about to be my former bestie.
“Oh, him. I don’t know. We seemed to have a good time, but, guys, it’s been days and days of radio silence.” I shrug my shoulders and pull out onto the highway to start our journey home.
“About that. Apparently, he keyed in your number wrong. If you’d get around to checking your work emails and business messages, you’d know he’s been trying to get ahold of you for days now.” Well, fuck me with a fork bent over.
“I had no idea. Everyone knows I’m taking the week off, and, guys, I completely disconnected besides my brother and dad. And after the way Mom talked to me at their house, I’ve yet to deal with that as well.” Wow, I guess I’m being the queen of avoidance lately. Aren’t I just a bundle of joy?
“So we’ve heard. I’m lucky you answered my text, then, huh?” Taylor says.
“Listen, pinky, my personal phone has worked just fine. Please tell Tanner I’m sorry. If he calls, I’ll answer, but, guys, I’m really not checking anything work related.”
“Fair enough. I already sent him your correct phone number.” I look into my rearview mirror. Ridge is shrugging his shoulders.
“Of course, you did. Now, enough about me. I want to hear all about Barbados, minus the sex, because yuck.” I point my thumb towards the back. “He’s like my brother, and I do not want to hear it. You hear me, Taylor Marie Charles?” I raise my eyebrows, and my best friend’s only response is to cross her arms over her breasts, pouting at me like it’s the end of the world.
“You’re such a party pooper.” That doesn’t stop her from telling me everything else about their honeymoon, and I enjoy listening to it the whole time. I’d be a liar if I said I’m not secretly excited to hear from Tanner either. I think earlier this week, everything just hit me at once, so to get some good news, well, I’m all for it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
tanner
I got the all-clear from Ridge in the form of a text. It fucking figures that this damn meeting is running well past our dinner we ate. The consensus is that every damn project that could be behind is and that all hands are needed on deck. I don’t know who was more pissed off—me, my brothers, or Leena. Probably Leena, seeing if we’re all out in the field, that means everything is piled on her plate.