Page 41 of Whatever It Takes
The next few weeks, Willow’s classes get harder, and I back off calling my girlfriend until she can call me. I won’t be her distraction. She’s got shit going for her, and I’ve ruined enough. I’m not going to ruin her.
To not think about her, I just bury myself in work. It’s the only thing that keeps me relatively sane. I’m averaging four to five hours of sleep. Which isn’t too bad, all things considered.
And I haven’t burnt another pizza. So improvement, right?
I grab my backpack off the bed. Normally on Saturday I’d be in the office, but Cobalt Inc. is having a party for the diamond division, and I really don’t want to run into those pricks. They’re the guys who pass me and “cough” out the wordnepotism.They’re not wrong. But it is annoying. Coughing words died in prep school. It’s fucking lame—especially when thirty-year-old tools do it.
But I got a call, so I do have somewhere to be.
I’m babysitting.
I lock up my apartment and on the way to the stairwell, I pass the cracked door to the shared “smokers” balcony. I quit smoking a while ago, so I’ve never ventured out there. Voices are muffled from outside, but I can still clearly distinguish Ana’s high-pitched drawl.
“What do you mean he’s never around? Doesn’t he live here?”
“I mean what I said, Ana. He isn’t around much,” Jared replies, freezing me cold. “Last time I saw him, I helped with his fire detector.” I freeze.They’re talking about me.
“That wasweeksago,” Ana whines. “If we want to make headway into the inner-circle, you need to be nicer.” I almost snort out a bitter-ass laugh. I knew it was all an act.It actually sucks to be right.
“Baby, I’m being as nice as I can be without getting on my knees and sucking him off.”
“Maybe—”
“Ana,” he snaps.
“I’m just saying, we have one chance to beinwith the most famous people in the country. Can you not fuck it up?”
I can’t with this shit. I leave, hurrying down the stairwell. I pull my hoodie over my head. My anger surging. I’m babysitting, I remind myself. I can’t go into it with this type of anger.Calm down.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Fuckingbreathe.
* * *
Superheroes & Scones is hard to walk into these days. Part coffee shop, part comic book store—it’ll always remind me of Willow and all the time we spent working here. Stocking the shelves and serving coffees.
I was shit at the espresso machine. Shit at recommending comics. Shit at shelving the “popular” collectibles in the front and the older ones in the back.
But somehow, I was never fired, and that’s kind of a success.
Lily walks out from the back, hearing the chimes of the front door. Her bodyguard lets me in and then locks the door behind me. After-hours, only soft lights illuminate the store, and it’s eerily quiet. Like walking into a fucking morgue.
I hate being here.
It’s the first time I’ve felt that in a really,reallylong time.
I hate thinking it.
“Garrison, thankyouthankyou for coming.” Lily bounces a three-year-old in her arms and then sets him down. “I’msosorry this is such late notice.” I agreed to babysitting her toddler. It’s something Willow used to do when she was here.
“It’s not a problem.” I nod to Maximoff Hale. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, right?”
He stares up at me with big green eyes. “Will you watch Batman with me?”
Shit. I raise my brows at Lily. Her husband owns a comic book company called Halway Comics, but everyone in the world is aware that Loren Hale’s true allegiance is to Marvel. He saysfuck DCon practically every Instagram Live I’ve seen.
