“When are you going to wake the fuck up and come home?”
Aaron’s voice was so loud, so unexpectedly mean, she almost dropped her phone. “I…what?”
“I just got an email from Francine telling me you’re doing such a great job in Melbourne and she’s so excited for the wedding. You haven’t told her you fucked up our engagement; you haven’t toldanyone.”
“I don’t know what to say!”
“Bullshit!” Aaron’s voice was so loud, it was like he was on speakerphone. “You don’t want to work at your dad’s shitbox studio. You don’t want to live with your batshit sisters. Wake the fuck up and come home.”
Maybe it was the stress, maybe it was an excess of green tea antioxidants, but she burst into tears. Big gulping toddler sobs. She cried and Aaron shouted, neither of them listening to each other until Sam burst through the door, her tattooing gloves still on, and snatched up her phone.
“Fuck off, you useless cuntlord,” she snarled, before hanging up. “Jesus, Nix…”
She wiped her tears away from her cheeks. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Sam pointed at the ceiling. “Upstairs.”
“But—”
“No buts. I’m keeping your phone and Tabby’s changing the Wi-Fi password. You’re done working for today, so go relax or I’ll fucking kill you.”
Nicole knew better than to protest. She gathered up her things and headed for the door. As she passed Noah’s room, she heard him say something in his rumbly baritone and Daniella Bright giggled. A stick of jealousy speared her right through the middle and she hurried out of the studio feeling like a failure.
Alone in the apartment, she considered and discarded taking a bath. Instead she collected the rubber gloves from under the sink and started pulling the Tupperware and expired jars of mustard out of the fridge. Once it was scrubbed clean and reorganized, she moved onto the cupboards, then the laundry. She wiped and stacked and rearranged. Then she started on dinner. Tabby came upstairs just as she was browning chicken for a stir fry. “I thought you were supposed to be relaxing.”
“Cooking is relaxing. Do you and Sam want rice or noodles?”
“Neither. Sam’s gone over to Scott’s and I’m gonna go see Radiant Spunk play the Evelyn.”
Nicole felt a pang of disappointment. “Did Sam leave my phone?”
“Nope. She says you need a solid twelve-hour screen fast.”
“That’s not fair, she doesn’t have a phone! She doesn’t know how much I need one!”
“Preaching to the choir, my dude.” Tabby jumped up and sat on the kitchen counter. “Hey, you know what you are?”
“What?”
“A food poker.”
Nicole frowned, wooden spoon in hand. “I’m cooking!”
“You’re poking. The chicken’s fine, but you just keep poking it. Poke, poke, poke.”
Nicole withdrew the spoon from the wok and instantly itched to return it. What if the chicken burned? What if it stuck to the metal? What if—
“Why don’t you stop poking food and come out with me?” Tabby demanded. “It’s only five thirty, come experience Radiant Spunk.”
“I’m fine here. AndRadiant Spunkis a hideous band name.”
“They were almost ‘Intergalactic Jizz.’” Tabby hopped off the counter. “If you’re not keen for the spunk, I’ll head out now.”
Nicole frowned. “Please don’t sleep with any of the guys from Radiant Spunk?”
“Cannae promise that, lass.”
“I thought you were taking a break from sex? Realigning your chakras?”