Page 78 of How Dare You

Chapter 31

Rhett

Made arrangements to get my furniture collection out of storage and brought to Palm Springs.

-From Rhett’s Most Important Things notebook, September 9th

Devon: I’m going to Calle Vista in a little bit. Do you want to come with?

To someone else, the text may seem indifferent, but I know that’s Devon for ‘please come support me.’ The homeowners haven’t returned her calls, and she needs to find out when the project will be back up and running. She’s nervous that they won’t want to keep her on, which is ridiculous, but that won’t stop me from showing up for her.

Me: You at your office? I can be there in an hour to pick you up.

Devon: Works for me, but meet me at Turbine instead.

Devon: Thanks for coming with me.

Me: Of course.

“Hi, McCoy,” Allie says, using my family name to greet me. In that moment I realize that in time, all of Devon’s friends will probably pick it up from her and do the same. “Quit your job yet?”

“No,” I laugh. “Not going to either.” I sit at the barstool next to Devon, wrapping my arm around to squeeze her shoulder. “Boss says I don’t have to.”

Allie’s mouth drops open in surprise. “He doesn’t?”

“Of course not,” Devon answers, turning her body into my hold. “It was absurd of you to tell him he should.”

Allie pauses pouring cold brew into a cup so she can prop her hands on her hips. “It absolutely was not absurd. You’ve been all hot and bothered about never dating anyone from work ever since professor What’s-his-ass.”

“Rhett is not him,” Devon answers, her tone more defensive than I’ve ever heard her use with one of her friends. “I’m not worried about it anymore.”

“Oh my god,” Allie gasps. She looks back and forth between Devon and me. “You—” her words drop off, and an entire conversation I can’t follow passes between these two best friends with only their eyes. “Well then,” Allie says, like something has been decided. “I’ll get your drinks ready so you can be on your way.”

When Allie turns around, I try to get Devon to explain, but she just shrugs and pretends she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

Drinks in hand, we make our way out to my truck that fortunately hasn’t ha d enough time to heat up in the desert sun.

“Do they know we’re coming?” I ask as I back out of the parking lot.

Devon flips down the visor to adjust her already perfect hair in the mirror. “Yeah, I finally heard back this morning. They actually apologized for taking so long to return my calls. They’ve been busy with their insurance company and the plumber, but they’re read to meet today.”

“Do they know I’m coming?” I ask.

“Yeah, they have updates for you too.”

It’s been a month since their house flooded, and I haven’t been back either since they haven’t had clearance to start work again.

“You ready?” I ask, shifting my truck into park.

“Yes, I am,” she says, back straight with confidence.

Mrs. Sandro greets us each with a warm smile, inviting us to sit down. She and Devon catch up for almost half an hour, barely mentioning a word about the project. I realize I’ve never seen her in this mode, but she’s completely in her element, connecting with her client and making her feel heard and cared about.

Eventually, Mrs. Sandro is the one who shifts the conversation. “I guess it’s time we get on to this nasty business with the plumbing. What’s the latest you heard?”

Devon shifts in her seat, the tiniest hint of nerves as she gives a quick rundown of what she knows. My hand twitches with the desire to reach out and hold hers, but I resist.

“Well, a lot more has happened since then. Follow me,” Mrs. Sandro says, standing up and moving toward down the hall. “Originally, we thought it was old plumbing, but they couldn’t find a crack anywhere. It turns out the water was coming from a couple of extremely loose fittings.”

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