Page 108 of Books and Hookups

She was right about the distance. It took longer to find my car in the hospital parking deck than to drive to the discount store. Savannah marched inside, leading the way like she was a determined mother duck and Carly and I were her fluffy, clueless ducklings.

When the automatic door whooshed shut behind me, I froze. The store was huge, even more gigantic than it had looked from the outside. And open. My black Converse squeaked on the vinyl tiles. When I checked the ceiling out of habit, it was covered in security cameras. The back of my neck prickled, and my chest tightened.

“You okay, Tessa?” Savannah’s voice interrupted the one in my head that told me to get out of there.

I shook it off. There was nothing to fear. It wasn’t even my voice in my head, warning me to get the hell out; it was my dad’s, and we hardly talked anymore. “I’m fine.”

“Then let’s go!” She yanked a huge red plastic cart from a tangle of them. She also scanned the ceiling, then pointed toward the far wall. “Baby section is that way.”

The space was too big, too bright, too full of people. Plus, Red Rover shoppers came here all the time.It’s been fifteen years,I reminded myself.None of the associates who knew you then are still working for them. No one will recognize you.Still,I kept my head down as I followed my friends. The last thing we needed was for someone to call me out. Or spit on me. That had only happened once, right after everything went to shit. But once was sufficient.

“Keep up, Carly,” Savannah said.

Our friend had stopped in front of a display of mannequins wearing sweaters and scarves. There was even a plastic dog wearing a tiny green plaid sweater. “How adorable! Chanel needs a sweater, and that emerald one would be gorgeous on her.”

“Why does a dog need a sweater?” I asked. “She’s covered in fur.”

Carly shuffled through the rack. “She likes to look well dressed, just like her mama.”

I doubted that. None of my cats had ever expressed an interest in fashion. Though they left the house even more infrequently than I did. We had dogs growing up, and they had jobs, not clothes. But Carly’s dog’s job seemed to be warming her lap, and maybe that required a sweater.

She laid the garment in Savannah’s cart. “Okay, baby section next.”

But we had to stop two more times, once at a Christmas display so Savannah could cluck that it was too early to think about Christmas (while my dad’s rant about the manufactured waste of capitalism played in my head), and once in the toy section when Carly spotted a mesh bag of marbles.

“Andrew and Oliver need these.” She plucked the bag from the hook.

I snorted. “Because they lost theirs?” Andrew was a math nerd, and his friend Oliver was a science nerd who always seemed to be staring, sad-eyed, off into space, except when he was watching me in a way that made me uncomfortably aware of exactly how public my life had been fifteen years ago. And of the fact that, if he were ten years older, that solemn intensity would’ve made him my type. So, as usual, I covered it with snark. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

Carly lifted her chin. “They’re doing a video on Newton’s laws of motion. Those videos may be ridiculous, but now they’ve got some interest from a streaming television service, they could be laughing all the way to the bank.”

“Wait, aren’t they rich already?” I asked. Both Andrew and his friend moved through the world with that elegant carelessness I’d observed in those who’d been born with money. Like they never panicked, however briefly, when presented with a menu with no prices on it. Like they didn’t hyperventilate when they authorized a mid-five-figure wire transfer to buy a car.

“They’ve got trust funds,” Carly said, “but they prefer to earn their own money. Andrew relies on the channel for his income now. Oliver still works for the biotech startup he founded. They’re very driven, you know.”

At their age, I’d already sold my business and lost my drive. I’d lost my way, too, though I hadn’t known it then.

“It’s so cute how tongue-tied Oliver gets around you, Tessa.” Savannah smirked as she pushed the cart past a display of children’s footie pajamas.

“Tongue-tied? More like stuck up,” I said, careful not to meet her gaze.

“Oh, no, honey,” Carly said. “Oliver talks all the time, except when he’s thinking up something brilliant in that big brain of his. You intimidate him.”

“Good.” Because he intimidated me, too, with that intelligent gaze that saw too much.

“Here we are,” Savannah sang out as she turned down an aisle and halted in front of a display of car seats.

Perfect. I needed a problem to solve. There had to be twenty to choose from. “Which one do we need?”

“The kind for infants.” Savannah pointed to the ones on the right.

“Those look like snail shells,” I said. “How do you even fit the baby inside? You couldn’t squeeze even your purse dog in there, Carly.”

“Didn’t you see how tiny Mia is?” Savannah said, tugging at the straps on a display model. “She’ll fit in here with room to spare. See? This one has a teeny bolster for her widdle head.”

“Isn’t she the cutest?” Carly cooed. “I wanted to eat her up.”

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, but when I spotted the security camera, I ducked my head. Were those two women standing at the endcap staring at us?

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