Page 55 of A Very Happy Easter

“Of Heath.”

“Forget me—we’re here for Annabel tonight.”

We shuffled over so she could fit beside Kirsten.

“You think we have enough scissors?” Vic asked, poking her head in through the window.

Kirsten shook her head. “Cutting stuff up seems kind of wasteful. What if we just set it outside with a ‘Help Yourself’ sign? We’re in the age of sustainability, after all. Why send more rubbish to the landfill?”

Salma—now minus the roses—buckled up in the front seat. “Yay for sustainability.”

“We need a screwdriver,” Annabel said. “I don’t know how we’re going to get his desk into the elevator otherwise.”

“You’re throwing out the desk?”

“It’s the ugliest desk I’ve ever seen. A great big walnut penis extension. I hate it. I’ve always hated it. It looks so out of place in my apartment, but Crawford insisted on buying it anyway.”

“How about a sledgehammer?” Kirsten suggested.

Salma twisted to look at us and pulled a face. “I don’t think we have one of those, but you know what? I’m going back to get that tyre iron.”

“What should I do with his car?” Annabel asked as Salma ran back inside. “I don’t want to get arrested for smashing it up.”

Hmm. “Is he using one of your parking permits?”

“He was too cheap to buy one of his own.”

“So we take the permit off the windscreen, let the tyres down, and wait for parking enforcement to tow the thing away. Problem solved.”

Annabel gave me a hug and hiccuped. “I love you guys. Hoes before bros every time.”

Every damn time, but maybe with one exception.

Fifteen

“Well, hell, Edie. How much stuff does one person have?”

I turned at the sound of Heath’s voice and broke into a smile. “What are you doing here?”

He jerked a thumb at the guy next to him. “This is László. He’s here to change the locks. Is that a MacBook Pro?”

“Yeah, do you want it?” Annabel asked, emptying a tote full of underwear onto the pile. “Technically, it’s mine. The asshole bought it with my credit card, and he never paid me back.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Another car pulled up, and when the back door opened, a jumble of clothing tumbled out, followed by a long-legged brunette who looked as furious as Annabel did. She saw me standing next to the pile.

“Annabel?”

“No, Edie. That’s Annabel. You must be Rebecca?”

“Crawford is an absolute dildo. Hey, is that a MacBook?”

By the time Crawford showed up, Rebecca had a new laptop, the book club had a new member—she liked to read romance because somehow, she still believed in fairy tales—and I was yawning. Annabel yelled a few choice words at Crawford from the window, and he shouted back, but then Rebecca appeared beside her, and it took the wind out of his sails. When he tried bitching at Salma and me, Heath stared him down, and boy, he could look really scary when he wanted to.

“Buddy, you fucked around, and you found out. Take the loss, pick up your shit, and learn something from today.”

“Who the hell are you?”

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