Page 75 of Yolo

I cut him off with, “Lunacy?”

He chuckled. “Yes.”

“Same here,” I admitted. “I’ve had more calls today than I did yesterday, and I feel like this isn’t normal. Even your mom’s ex-assistant feels like this is more than usual.”

“Why are you calling her mom’s ex-assistant and not her name?” He chuckled again.

“Because if I call her Melody, it might seem like I actually like her,” I admitted. “But since I don’t, then I’m not going to grace her with her actual name.”

“What did she do?” he asked, sounding angry on my behalf.

“I hate to say this, but I don’t have time.” I grimaced. “I can be sure to fill you in about it when you get home, though.”

“Good,” he said. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way back. But my dad’s leaving in twenty, so make sure you have everything ready to go so he doesn’t try to spend more time at the office. His and Mom’s anniversary is today, and he’s already in the doghouse because he somewhat forgot. Don’t dig him in deeper.”

I gasped. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s been a fun day listening to the two of them bitch to me separately.”

After saying goodbye, I hung up and got back to work, finishing up everything I could before shutting down my computer.

And since it was well past twenty minutes after that phone call and he still hadn’t come, I gathered up my belongings and called for Rooster to follow.

He did, and I locked my office door with a thumbprint—something new that’d been on my office door this morning to help accommodate my disability—and went in search of the chief.

I found him talking in low tones to some man I couldn’t place.

“Um, Mr. Carter, erm, Germaine?” I called out.

Both men stopped talking, and Germaine said, “Hey, Bindi. I’m almost ready. Just taking care of a few short details before we go.”

“Actually, about that,” I said. “I’m not feeling all that well. Headache. Really bad. Do you mind taking me home now?”

Germaine immediately made his departure known to anyone that needed to hear it, and then helped me outside to his truck.

Since he was the big boss, he got the nice parking spot right outside his door.

It took us two minutes to get in and head out before he said, “You get headaches often?”

“Yes.” I paused. “But I don’t really have one. I just wanted you to stay married.”

There was a long moment of silence, and then, “I swear to Christ, that woman.”

I laughed. “We’re fickle little things. Sometimes we’re perfectly content with a kiss and a candy bar from the gas station. And sometimes we need a little more than that.”

“I forgot. Kind of. I knew, and I told her before I left in a note on her bathroom counter, but it got knocked off by the cat, and I didn’t say anything to her until well after one this afternoon,” he admitted. “I also forgot to get her a present.”

“What’s her favorite ice cream?” I asked.

“All of it.”

I grinned. “You got a gas station close to your place?”

“Yes…” he hesitated.

“Go buy her every single pint they have and take it to her. It’ll make her day, I promise,” I told him.

He was silent for a few long seconds before saying, “I meant to get her a cookie cake from the mall—no offense to Maven, who owns a bakery—but I forgot to do that, too.”

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