Page 32 of Beyond Oblivion

He groaned. “I’ll retrieve my wife’s cell phone from you thisafternoon,” he said in an overly annunciated American accent.

“Why didn’t you just say that to begin with? Your language is diabolical.”

“Says the man whose country calls carrying a ball football and kicking a ball soccer,” he shot back. “There are Canadians, Mexicans, but you… you’re the Americans, like you’re not all on the same continent. And why the fuck can’t you use the metric system like everyone else?”

“Because ’MERICA!” I growled in my best southern drawl.

He laughed. “Fair point, colonizer.”

We both got quiet.

“Too far,” I said finally.

“Stuffed that one up, didn’t I? Just taking the piss.”

I made a face like he’d just tried to hand me a non-alcoholic beer. “Don’t explain that one to me. I don’t think I wanna know. And you’re forgiven. I’ll let you know how she’s feeling in a few hours. Oh, and… I told her about Maddie.”

“I know,” he said simply.

“Quit being weird,” I said, making a face at the phone even though I knew he couldn’t see it.

After a click…silence.Because Lachlan, even while being weird, knew exactly when to hang up.

There was something about him saying he knew that piqued my attention. He also didn’t ask how Camille was, what sickness she had, or even seem surprised. Most people would’ve asked if it was contagious and just cancel.

Must be an Australian thing.

My phone buzzed and a text message notification popped up on my truck’s display. It was Maddie. I chewed on my lip as I pulled into Skin Deep’s parking lot, hoping it would only take a day or two of ignoring her for her to give up.

“Ew, leave,” Hazel said as I walked in the door.

“Cami’s home today.”

Hazel’s expression immediately went from playful disgust to sympathetic. “Poor thing. I wish she’d listen to you about the surgery.”

“I know. But I promised I wouldn’t bring it up again. And you can’t, either.”

She threw her hands up. “I know, I know,” she said, then shifted gears like a pro, palms flat on the counter. “All right, we’re tag-teaming the front today. We’ve done it plenty of times. We can do this. Not as good as Cami, but we can do this,” she said, mostly to herself, nodding.

“I have a client coming in ten, going to set up.”

“Already done,” Hazel said with a smug grin, tucking a piece of dark hair behind her ear.

I stopped and leaned back from the hall.

Hazel smiled. “I got you, boo boo.”

I finally let my shoulders relax. “You’re the best.”

The day cruised along about as smoothly as it could without Camille running the show. After the first hour, I called to check in. After the second hour, she basically told me tostopchecking in. She was in the tub, feeling better. And me? I was trying not to feel like a stage-five clinger.

“Wait a sec,” I said, looking at the computer monitor. “What the fuck?”

“What?” Hazel asked, waving goodbye to her latest client.

I pointed at the screen. “Did you do this?”

Hazel looked at me, then the monitor, and shook her head. “Uh, no. You’ve got dinner plans tonight, remember? I’m not gonna slap a client onto the end of your day.”

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