Page 122 of The Love Destroyers

He sends the guy the photos on the spot, along with my phone number. I get a call five minutes later, after Hank, who manages one of the music venues downtown, heads up to his apartment.

We talk shop for half an hour and then set up an interview for the day after tomorrow. I can already tell he’s going to hire me, though. It’s there in his voice, in the easy back and forth, like we’ve been buddies for years.

When I hang up, I feel like the king of the fucking world for a whole thirty seconds—but the feeling puffs away like dandelionfluff. Because there’s one person I want to tell, and if I called her, she probably wouldn’t answer.

I sink back into a glower, but not all the way, because my chance meeting with Hank has made me hope.

I go out and buy Chuck some lunch, then decide I'm all the way done with sitting on my ass and accept a Honey Do job for something to do. I change a woman’s oil.

I’m on my way home when my phone dings with a text. I check it at a light, and it’sher. Emma.

Ellie has remembered she has a pet and wants him back.

There’s a lurching feeling in my chest. The rabbit is a misanthrope, mostly, and Carrot’s a name I wouldn’t even give my lunch, but I don’t want to give him up.

For Emma, I would.

But before I can write anything else, she sends—

I said no.

I told Ellie it was non-negotiable, but then I realized I hadn’t even asked you if you wanted him.

I was assuming, and he IS an asshole.

The driver behind me honks and shouts something out of the window. Maybe he thinks Carrot’s an asshole too.

I’m smiling as I drive back to the house. I like that Emma stood up for Carrot and me, and I’ve swung around to feeling lucky again. Hopeful. Like maybe everything will work out after all, in a twist no one expected.

It’s only as I park Ingrid in the garage that it hits me—Emma talked to Ellie directly.

That’s something we’ve been avoiding since they arrived, so why now?

I text Nicole, who writes back—

Hello, worst employee ever!

Yeah, so they got together for a little chatty-chat, because Damien and I discovered…wait for it….

Ellie’s actually thirty-six.

Who gives a shit?

Jeffrey was going to ruin her social media empire and make her look like a liar, which she is, so no one will believe her if she talks about his misdeeds.

He’s trying to pull the same shit that worked with Emma.

So we decided it was time for them to team up even though Ellie’s a douche nozzle.

She didn’t offer up the goods, but I’m following her.

I’m guessing she’s going to go back to the hotel and grab it, so we’re golden. Eyes on the prize.

Jeffrey’s at a gallery looking at trash.

I’m not even joking. I have a friend who has a gallery space, and she let me put a bunch of trash in there so we can pretend it’s art.

But I nearly drop the phone, because Nicole won’t find that information by following Ellie. I know where the information must be.

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