Page 79 of Dear Ripley

Harlow entered the room, laughing and carrying two mugs of coffee, one of which she, mercifully, handed to me. Black, like I used to drink. “You’re not wrong there, but at least play along.”

“Exactly,” Morgan replied, climbing up onto the back of her sofa. By all rights, the thing should have toppled over, but it didn’t. It stayed perfectly still, Morgan draped awkwardly over it as she watched me with far too much intensity.

“Well, since Harlow’s still here, and not showing any signs of a fight,” I said, looking the two of them over, “I’m guessing you didn’t manage to scare Ellie out of town yet?”

Morgan laughed. “I didn’t realize we were physically intimidating her out of town.”

“We’re definitely not,” Harlow said quickly and firmly.

Morgan held up her hands. “Message received.”

“Okay, so, it’s not that.” I looked between the two of them. “So, what’s the deal then? New video upload from your gift-wrapping girlfriend.”

Morgan scowled. “She’s not my gift-wrapping girlfriend. She’s not my girlfriend at all. And no, she hasn’t uploaded anything new yet.”

I giggled. After we’d finished our film last night, we’d then been subjected to several hours of YouTube videos featuring a woman Morgan was clearly in love with. Even if she tried to deny it. “You should send her a message asking for more content. I’m sure she has loads of outtakes and stuff. You can tell her you’re her biggest fan. Or, you know, you could tell her you want to date her and just get it out there.”

A complex combination of emotions lit up Morgan’s face. The first was easy enough, frustration with me for even suggesting such a thing. It didn’t matter how obvious it was, Morgan was not interested in having her crush pointed out to her. The rest of it was significantly more difficult to comprehend. Something amused and wondering. Something smug and eager.

“Funny you should mention sending messages to talk about your feelings,” she said, sharing an excited, knowing look with Harlow.

The two of them working together on anything was truly terrifying. If they ever went into business together, I was certain they’d be formidable. Since it was currently being turned on me, however, I wasn’t sure I enjoyed it.

“Because you’re thinking of taking my advice and need a hand writing the message?” I ventured, not remotely believing that’s what it was, but trying anything to ignore the anxious hammering in my chest that told me this was something about Ripley and the letters we’d been sending each other lately.

“Nope,” she replied, grinning widely and popping the end of the word.

“Then what?” I asked, ducking my head to sip my coffee, finally giving up any hope that I was going to make it out of this conversation with my dignity intact.

The pair of them laughed, which only served to make me more tense. I really didn’t like being the only person in the room to not know what was going on.

“Aren’t you curious as to where Ripley’s gone?” Morgan asked, watching me closely.

Well, that wasn’t nearly as bad as I was imagining.

“Not especially,” I said, my eyebrows raised. “She owns a business that operates pretty regular hours. I’m going to assume she’s gone to work.”

Harlow laughed, looking at Morgan. “Told you.”

I wasn’t sure what she’d told her, but I didn’t think I wanted to know.

“Boring,” Morgan complained, rolling her eyes. “Are you really going to act like you don’t care that she’s not here?”

I frowned. Of course I cared—Ellie was still out there, undoubtedly, she’d be tracking Ripley down today to discuss the lack of delivery to Harlow, and Ripley was alone to face that. But weren’t we all worried about that?

“You cannot be this clueless,” Morgan said, sighing heavily.

“I’m not clueless,” I insisted. “Yes, I’m concerned that Ripley’s out there potentially dealing with Ellie alone, but, you know, she’s a big girl, with a business to run. I’m not really sure what else you want from me.”

“And that’s it?” She stared at me like she couldn’t believe a single word that had left my mouth.

“What else is there?”

Harlow giggled, watching the two of us with interest. “Ripley’s not alone, by the way. She mentioned what was going on to Ekundayo, and he agreed to go in for the day, just in case.”

“Oh.” Something inside of me relaxed enormously. A second person there was so much safer than Ripley being alone. “Well, that’s good. He seems like a good kid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Morgan said, cutting us off impatiently. “Ekundayo’s amazing, but that’s not the point right now.”

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