Page 70 of Sweatpants & Sweet Tea

“I wasn’t going to leave you there alone.”

She took in a shaky breath. “He’s not…we’re not together. We’ve been friends with benefits for a few years. Whenever he’s in town, we hook up, but that’s only a few times a year. The pictures that they posted were from nine months ago. I told him last night that I didn’t want to see him anymore.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Why what?”

“Why did you tell him that you didn’t want to see him anymore?”

“Um, because I don’t like being used as a pawn in a Hollywood chess game. He leaked, or should I say his team, leaked those photos because the girl he was in a fake relationship with got into a real one and got engaged.”

Her phone rang, and she went into the sunroom to take the call when she saw it was her boss. I cleared our plates and took them to the sink. As I rinsed them, I processed what she’d told me about Kale and about the possibility of getting a manager.

I didn’t know what I was expecting when I came over tonight, but this hadn’t been it. Daphne Moore was full of surprises. A month ago, as a control freak, I hated surprises. Now…they were growing on me.

33

DAPHNE

My eyes were barely open,and my sight was bleary as I stepped out onto the porch. Even with my cloudy vision, I could make out half a dozen vehicles parked in front of Harlan’s barn. The moon was still visible. Getting up before the sun was not what I was made for. I stepped onto the grass, dampened by morning dew, and began the quarter-mile trudge to his place. Halfway there, my phone buzzed.

Nadia:I got up at the Butt crack of dawn. If you’re still in bed, Iwillbe coming over and dragging your butt out of it.

I quickly messaged back.

Me:I’m up.

It had been two weeks since our chili dinner, when I’d pitched him my thoughts on Farm Strong. He’d taken my advice, and after meeting with three potential managers, Harlan had signed with Bethany Morris, who worked with a mix of A-list actors, influencers, fitness stars, athletes, and musicians. He’d also hired someone to run his social media and manage his online presence.

This morning was Harlan’s first sponsored class. It was being filmed for content, and Zoe, Nadia, Ashley, and I all decided tocome to support him. I’d agreed that it was a great idea last night at Southern Comfort after my third lemon drop. This morning, I was regretting that decision.

My tennis shoes sank into the field as I trod on the damp blades of grass. Summer was turning to fall, and the mornings were downright chilly. Last night, after I came home from the bar, I’d chosen and laid out a very cute Alo Yoga set. The deep green sports bra served as a push-up bra, and the crisscross back was sexy yet supportive. The leggings matched and worked as much magic on my backside as the sports bra worked on my lovely lady lumps.

Unfortunately, I’d been too tired and perhaps a little too hungover to shimmy my way into the form-fitting garments. Instead, I was still wearing the black sweats I’d slept in, had thrown on my wireless bralette, a cutoff Garfield T-shirt I’d had since I was in middle school, and for good measure, I’d thrown on a dark gray oversized hoodie. It was a layered look.

As I approached the group gathered in front of Harlan’s barn, I immediately wished I had chosen style over comfort. There were a dozen women in barely there tops and yoga pants that were molded to their curves.

“You look cute!” Nadia enthused as I joined her, Ashley, and Zoe.

“Thanks,” I appreciated her trying to make me feel better for looking like I’d just rolled out of bed, which, in all fairness, I had.

“I love your hair.” Ashley smiled widely.

“Thanks!” I lifted my hand and patted the double French braids I’d done before I passed out last night. I was glad I’d had the forethought to do them. Otherwise, my hair would be in a messy bun that would look like a rat’s nest by the time the class was over.

“Do I need to check in?” I glanced around, looking for a line or something.

“No. I already took care of that,” Zoe assured me.

Out of the group, Zoe took on the maternal role. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was the only one who actually was a mom or if that was just her nurturing nature. She was a nurse, after all.

“How’s your aunt?” Ashley blew hot air into the palm of her hands and rubbed them together.

“She’s ready to come home. Or should I say, shethinksshe’s ready to come home.”

“We practically have to strap her down,” Zoe teased. “But that’s good. She’s got a fighting spirit.”

“Yeah, she does. And every day, she does look a little better. She looks stronger. She’s had a few setbacks since her surgery. A blood clot and some nerve damage. But she’s been working on that with her PT, and she is improving,” I explained.

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