Page 68 of Love Like Lightning

“He’s part of the family, so he’s part of the client.”

“I don’t know what to do.” I drop my head, cradling it in my hands.

“I’m not exactly an expert, but my guess is talking to him would be a good first step.”

“He told me he didn’t want to talk.”

“Well…” Cam trails off and finally looks at me, his brow furrowing. “Hey, aren’t you headed back east for a few days?”

I’d completely forgotten about that, but he’s right. I’d planned to fly home tomorrow to celebrate my Nonna’s birthday. I mean, I still plan to, obviously, only now the timing is just the worst. I am suddenly completely overwhelmed. “Yeah, I am.”

“That might make things on the communication front a bit complicated…”

“Yeah. Thank you, Cam. Super helpful, as always.” I let my sarcasm run free and sigh. “Can you still drive me to Denver for the flight?”

“Sure thing, G, whatever you need. I’m not chomping at the bit to return to The Wright Lodge, so it’ll be a good break.”

I can’t say I blame him, and I can’t say I disagree with the sentiment.

Once we’re both back in our respective rooms, I peel off my clothes and climb into the shower. I’m hoping that a long, hot stint under the spray will clear my head. Maybe it will make me feel a little better.

Much to my dismay, I feel worse. I end up curled up in bed, still wrapped in my towel, staring at the colorful abstract art hanging on the wall. Somewhere deep in my chest, there’s a dull throb that won’t let up even as I press my fist to it.

“So what you’re telling me is that your actions, which were potentially not the best, have come back to bite you in the ass?” Simone glances over at me from the driver's side of her car.

“Simone, I love you, but I’m not above telling your mom about my tenth birthday sleepover.”

Scoffing, she eases to a stop at a light. I watch a group of teenagers cross the street even though I can feel her eyes on me.

“That would be incredibly unkind.” She sniffs, acting offended.

“I won’t remind you again that me even sleeping with Henry was something that you talked me into. I won’t slap you, but I’m not sure that I won’t set you up so your mom does.” I glare at her, but she just laughs it off. It’s a hollow threat. No one in our family would ever actually get violent, although our parents have perfected the art of striking the fear of God into us kids.

Simone’s always been the most intense of my cousins, and I’m sure she knows me well enough to know that I won’t tell her mom about the time she “borrowed” our great grandmother's pearls and acted like they were my birthday gift.

Truthfully, a slap would be the least of her concern. We’re just lucky that we returned the pearls to her mom's jewelry box before we were found out.

“Listen, I’m sorry things blew up. Have you talked to him at all?” She takes the turn into the parking lot of my apartment.

“Not a peep. I sent a few texts, and I called him once I landed in Boston, but it went straight to voicemail.”

Simone hisses out a breath, puts her car in park, and looks at me. Tears burn my eyes and I swallow around the giant lump of hurt that has lodged itself in my throat.

“Oh shit.”

“What?” I try to swipe my hand under my eye casually, but the move just makes more tears drop.

“You fucking like him.” She leans over the console and takes my face into her hands.

“Simone…” I try to warn her away from the subject, but a sob breaks through, which doesn’t help my case.

“Oh no, G. You really like him, like love like, and you inadvertently hurt him, and now you’re literally across the country, and he won’t talk to you.” She breaks down my seemingly very complicated situation so simply.

I finally turn to look at her, letting my tears drop freely now. An unintended laugh escapes, and I hiccup. “Yeah, pretty much. What am I going to do?”

“Well, babe, first you’re going to go inside and shower, and I’ll order some Mexican food. Use at least ten of the twenty body scrubs and hair masks or whatever you’ve got in your shower to make you feel a little better. I’ll double our usual margarita order.”

“And then?”

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