Page 48 of Framed

Her medical issues were also still a bit of a mystery, but by now, I knew things were serious. Serious enough that she’d told me which medications to give her in case of an emergency.

Silence fell between us. For a second I thought I overstepped and she wasn’t going to respond, but then she surprised me by saying, “I haven’t told her about my last episode. Since I’m over eighteen, my providers no longer have to keep her updated. I think that’s all I am to her at times. To most people. I think after spending a month of Sundays stuck at doctor’s offices, follow-up appointments, and specialist visits, my illness became my only personality trait to them.”

I was stunned, at a loss for words.

I could understand her in my own way. I felt like I was confined by a crime I didn’t commit. For Winter, it was her illness that trapped her.

“Why not tell her? Wouldn’t she want to be updated?” I remembered how sick Xavier’s mom got before she passed. The cancer was too far along when they caught it and she was gone even quicker.

A humorless chuckle fell from her lips. “If it’s one thing I can count on Ophelia St. James to do, it’s worry. She put her life on hold for me after my diagnosis, uprooted our lives across the country in hopes of finding me the best doctors, and carried the weight of my illness on her back for years. Alone. People talk about how illness affects me, but I’ve seen what it does to the people around me. To my mom. I don’t want to be a burden to her anymore. I want her to live her life.”

I frowned. “How long have you been sick?”

“I was diagnosed when I was eight.”

“Shit,” I said, snapping my lips shut, immediately regretting how insincere it sounded.

To my surprise, her lips tipped up into a smile. “Yeah.Shit.”

Something about this conversation made me feel as if our friendship was reaching a deeper level. But that feeling was fleeting. As quickly as it started, Winter’s expression shuttered, her focus deflecting. “Enough dwelling on this sad shit. Tell me more about this asshole owner. Is he hot?”

It was like she never wanted anyone to focus on her for more than a minute. This wasn’t the first time I’d noticed her deflections—they were all too familiar. She, like me, was reserved about herself. Her past especially.

If I didn’t know any better, that evasiveness would make me suspicious. After all, I knew for a fact that someone—or more than one someone—had it out for me. The note was proof.

And who’d handed me that note? My gaze slid toward Winter again.

Don’t be ridiculous, Scarlett.She had no idea what was in that box when it got delivered. I groaned, turning my head back toward the empty land as I avoided her question about Xavier.

“I’ll take that as a yes. ” She laughed. It sounded carefree, like in the blink of an eye she’d flipped a switch and turned back into the Winter I could always relax around.

“Well…” I contemplated how to phrase this. My neck grew hot as I pictured Xavier in his skin-tight wife-beater, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Not exactly professional attire. He’d been slicked with sweat, muscles strained, like he’d just been working out, or… well. Or something I didn’t want to know. “He’s not bad looking,” I finally said.

Understatement.

“Hmm.” I could hear the amusement in the noise she made. “Definitely hot. That’s weird, I’ve never actually heard anything about the owner. I always assumed it was Ethel. Do you think you can sneak a picture of him during your next shift?”

“No, I will not sneak a picture of him. What if tries to fire me or something?” I didn’t mention that my prepaid phone was not capable of taking anything beyond grainy pictures anyway. Or that I knew for a fact she’d seen him already.

If I told her Xavier was the owner, I’d never hear the end of it. It wasn’t a topic I wanted to discuss, especially seeing he clearly hated me.

“Fire you… Or he could bend you over his desk and punish you.” Winter actually cackled.

My throat and skin burned hot at the mental image of Xavier doing exactly that. Damn, Winter and her dirty romance novels.

She reached over to prod my arm. “Are you blushing?” I could feel her head turn in my direction.

“No.” Yes.

“You are definitely blushing!” She laughed. “You have a crush on your asshole boss. Bless your heart.”If only she knew.

Bless my heart indeed.

It was my turn to redirect the conversation. “How long until we get there?” The anxious feeling nagged at the back of my head. It wasn’t raining, so hopefully whatever I was driving us both into couldn’t be all that bad.

Winter glanced at her phone, which was propped up in one of those vent holders, and said, “A little over an hour and a half.”

Great. That’d put us at arriving close to 3:30 A.M. “Cool,” I said.

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