Page 34 of Rivals to Lovers
“But of course Mother said we needed to read both projects, but I don’t know. I don’t know about that other one.”
“Maureen Denton’s book.”
“Right. I mean, if people wanted a happy ending, they’d read a different kind of book. Happy books don’t sell.”
Wes was about to correct her, explaining that romance novels actually made up a large part of the book market and sold the idea of a happy ending to millions of people a year. He was annoyed about someone trying to tell him how his industry did or didn’t work, but he was interrupted by a nurse calling Flor back.
“Anyway,” Flor said, standing and pulling her purse over a bony shoulder, “if Mom’s health tanks, it will be me you hear from next. I don’t think it will. God knows I don’t. But if it does, I’ll be in touch. You can count on it.”
Wes left the card and flowers with the attending nurse before Talia came into the lobby, unsure he could handle another round of guilt and hope and horror, all stirred together. After a second thought, he untucked the flap of the card and added more to his message, signing,All the best from Wes and Maureen.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mo
When Mo reentered the apartment after the weekend, the smell of home hit her: the hot, ever-lingering scent from the furnace (even in the summer) and lemon Pledge. Like any lazy Sunday, Sloan was painting her nails on the couch. The routine view of it, Sloan with old magazines under her feet to protect the thirdhand sofa and Mackenzie with the second book in her favorite series open on her lap, pinged as coming home in her chest. They had turned the Christmas lights on, which hung from bookshelf to bookshelf, crisscrossing the room that served as the kitchen, den, and dining room.
Maureen slipped her flats off and leaned against the wall near the door. “Me next?” she asked. Her bag slumped beside her. She’d unpack that baggage later, but she was desperate to talk to someone. She was worried about Estelle, she was horrified that she’d messed around with Wes, and her toes did look terrible.
Sloan sighed and finished the swipes of color on her pinkie toes. “Okay, but you do need to clean the kitchen.”
“I know, I know.”
“We saw no rats while you were gone. Maybe the mayor actually is cleaning up the city,” Mackenzie said.
“Do they have them in Greenwich?” Sloan asked.
“If they did, I bet they’d each be assignedBreakfast at Tiffany’spearls with a black dress or a tiny, rat-sized golf cart or something.”
“Am I wrong, or are you back early?” Mackenzie asked.
“Early and for the worst reason. Ms. Morgan-Perry had a heart attack. We left this morning,” Maureen said. “I feel so powerless that I can’t do anything to help her.”
“I’m sure she’s getting the best care available,” Mackenzie said. “Sit and fill us in on the rest of the weekend.”
Maureen sat heavily on the couch next to Sloan and placed her toes on the stack of magazines. Sloan focused on Maureen’s big toes first, alternating back and forth between her feet. Swipes of neon pink lit up her nails like liquid fireworks. “Did you bring back the rest of my gummies?”
Mo snorted. “Yes, and two was too many, you were right.”
Sloan tsk-tsked. “I told you, lightweight. I hope you didn’t make some viral Instagram while you were high.”
“Because it would hurt my reputation?”
“No, because I didn’t see it yet, and that means my algorithm is all messed up.”
Mo laughed, finally. The release felt unnatural. It felt good to pretend the past twelve hours hadn’t happened, at least while she could keep up the facade. “You’re wearing makeup?” she asked Mackenzie.
Sloan finished the middle toes, smirking but not looking up. “She had a date.” Sloan sang the last word, stretching it out like taffy.
“You slept over?” This was news. Mackenzie hadn’t had a steady boyfriend during the entire time they had been roommates, and she had never been one to sleep over with randos.
Mackenzie shook her head. “No, it was a breakfast stroll in the park.”
Mo wrinkled her nose. “That seems illegal on a Sunday morning.”
“Right? It should be punishable by law to be up before nine and have to look good.” Mackenzie sighed. “He took me to church, which was cute and awkward. I had to tell him I hadn’t really been inside a holy place in a dozen years.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t count the library?”
