Page 25 of Wrong Number. Right Don.
“He’s not a serial killer,” I say quietly, more of a reassurance for my own nerves.
“Probably not,” she agrees with a shrug. “But he is rich, secretive, intense, and hot in a really dangerous way.”
I shoot her a look, but she just raises her eyebrows like she’s daring me to argue. I can’t.
“I’m not in any way questioning your judgment about this. You’re neither stupid nor reckless. And I respect the hell out of your reasons for taking this job. You’re looking out for your baby’s future and your parents’ present. This is just my small way of letting you know that I’m always looking out foryou.”
“You’re the best friend I could ever ask for,” I say earnestly, throwing my arms around her. “And you know I’ll lock these away the moment I unpack—I don’t trust myself not to accidentally maim someone.”
“That’s my Practical Patty,” she teases.
We carry my suitcase out to the living room, resting it by the front door. The apartment feels strangely still, like it’s holding its breath waiting for me to leave. As strange as it sounds, I’m sad to leave without a definite return date.
We collapse on the couch and Mia curls her legs beneath her and rests her head on the cushion. I tuck a throw pillow intomy lap and lean back, grateful for the quiet. We’ve sat here a thousand times before like this, exhausted after shifts, laughing over stupid reality shows, crying after breakups, venting about patients or hospital politics. It’s our place to just be us. And this might be our last time here for a long while.
“It really will be weird without you at the hospital,” Mia says softly, breaking the silence. “I’m going to be that sad girl who eats lunch all by herself.”
“Half the staff eat by themselves.” I smile faintly. “Besides, I’ll still be around. I’ll call whenever I can. We’ll FaceTime and text all the time. It’ll be like I’m still there. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“Liar.” She snorts. “I always notice when you aren’t there.”
My heart aches, but I just reach over and squeeze her hand. She squeezes back.
My phone buzzes in my lap, its glow slicing through the dim room. I glance down, expecting another late-night spam text.
Instead, I see a text from my bank.$20,000 Was Deposited into Your Account
My brow furrows. I tap the alert, and the number staring back at me makes my mouth go dry.
I blink at it, wondering if it’s a glitch, but another notification comes through. This time, a text message.
Consider this an advance before you move in. I’ll see you soon.
My fingers tremble slightly as I turn the screen toward Mia.
Her eyes widen instantly. “Holy shit,” she breathes.
“Yeah,” I agree, swallowing hard.
“So it begins,” she says, her voice low.
“I know.” I nod, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mia sits up straighter, her face more serious than I’ve ever seen it.
“Look, I’ve been supportive, and that hasn’t changed, but now that this is real I need to say this: If something feels off, at any point, you call me. Okay? Day or night. If you get even the slightest weird vibe, you leave. You pack your bags, and I will be there in a cab with a bat in one hand and my own taser in the other.”
“Deal.” I laugh, but it’s shaky.
She studies me for a beat, then yanks me into a hug, arms banded tight around my shoulders. “I love you, Nic. You’re one of the smartest, kindest people I know. You deserve good things. Don’t forget that.”
I press my face against her shoulder and whisper, “I won’t.”
When she pulls back, there’s moisture in both our eyes, but neither of us acknowledges it. We turn on a rom-com and try to enjoy our last few hours together.
10
SERGEI
