Page 66 of Fake-Off with Fate
“I see that now,” I tell her humbly. “We should probably call the cops, huh? Or animal control? Maybe the Navy?”
She releases an exasperated groan. Let’s give them time to fill their bellies. They’ll have to go to sleep at some point and that will be our best opportunity to escape.”
“When do they usually sleep?” I ask.
She picks up her phone to look up the answer to myquestion. “Looks like they knock off an hour or two after sunset. But hopefully, they’ll be so stuffed they’ll get drowsy sooner.”
Walking into the kitchen, I grab two energy bars before joining her in the living room. I hand her one and say, “I don’t know about you, but even if we get out of here in decent time, I don’t think I’m up to making an appearance at the ball.”
“Fine by me,” she replies with relief in her voice. “I probably sweated right through my dress anyway.”
Sitting down next to her, I tell her, “You look beautiful.”
A soft smile forms on her mouth. “Thank you. You look pretty nice yourself.” She adds, “I’m surprised you have a tux.”
Instead of playing it off like I’m as cool as 007, I confess, “It’s a rental.”
“A very nice one.”
Neither one of us speaks for several moments and the silence becomes thick. “Thank you again for saving me,” I finally say.
Her head bobs briefly in recognition of my compliment. Then she announces, “My house in LA might be about to burn down.”
“Excuse me?”
She takes a small bite of her energy bar and chews it thoughtfully before answering. “My landlord texted me. I didn’t even know my area was in danger.”
“Southern California is as close to the Book of Revelations as anywhere on the planet. I mean earthquakes, fires, floods … it’s a lot.”
“It’s so beautiful though,” she says. “It rarely gets below fifty degrees and the sun shines ninety percent of the time …”
“Which is why you’re in a drought,” I interrupt.
“Yeah. But after growing up in Washington, I’ve found that I really love the sun.”
“You don’t have much humidity in LA, either.” It sounds like I’m changing camps.
“And the food is out of this world,” she adds.
“You’ve got great beaches.”
“Lots of good hiking.”
“You don’t ever think you’ll leave, huh?” In the back of my mind, I suppose I was hoping that Ashlyn would move back to Maple Falls, and we could give our budding interest in each other a chance to grow. It looks like I’ll have to accept that isn’t going to happen.
“I’ve made a nice life for myself,” she says. “I have a great business, and a stellar reputation. Which of course keeps my business growing.”
“But the dating is abysmal,” I remind her.
“True. But there’s always Utah,” she jokes. “And there are no bears in my neighborhood. Coyotes are my biggest wildlife concern.”
“Are they dangerous?” I want to know.
“Not unless you’re a small child or dog,” she says. My eyes must bug out because she assures me, “People there know not to leave either unattended.”
I love how comfortably Ashlyn and I banter back and forth. There’s an ease with her that I’ve only felt with my really good friends. I guess that’s exactly what we’re becoming to one another—good friends.
“We have rats the size of house cats in New York City,” I tell her. “And roaches the size of rats.”
