Page 6 of Shy Girl
3
Dagny
The moment I returned to the loft from Jayson's check-in, I shut the door, slid down the length of it, and collapsed into a heap.
Long, slow breaths calmed my racing heart as I stared at the grains of wood in the floor. The only reason I’d answered the knock was because I thought Maverick and Bethany would want to talk about what happened. Would they be upset with me? Proud of me? Critique my response? There were cameras that they’d already reviewed. Maybe they’d be upset that I gave up the money too quickly.
No, that would be insane.
Maverick and Bethany would be worried about me first. Logically, I knew that, but it didn’t prevent my fear. In the end, I just wanted them to respect me as much as I respected them, and I didn’t understand why. Even though I dreaded the potential conversation with my employers—and sort of my friends—I still went down the stairs because it was the right, adult thing to do.
Jayson had stunned me right into my usual tongue-tied state.
That I’d managed to get any words out felt like a miracle. Still, he’d left with something of a furrowed brow and an unsatisfied air. As if he’d expected a weeping woman, perhaps? That would be nice. Crying helpedsomethingcome out.
After deep breathing my way through the tightness in my chest, I straightened. The acrid, unmistakable smell of stain filled the loft, despite an open window over the sink that spilled cooling summer air. Broken pallets lay in wreckage across the floor, like discarded driftwood. Metallic containers of turpentine dotted the counter near the sink next to a pile of nails and assorted hammers. A fresh round of stained wood lay propped against the wall. Still tacky, it would be ready for final creation in two days.
I shoved the supplies I’d prepared out of the way and almost knocked a textbook over in the process. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was focus on anything creative or intellectual. Instead, I dropped onto my old recliner. A quiet, vague movie soundtrack filled the loft, so calm I’d forgotten I put it on, because nothing soothed quite like orchestral music. Seconds after I settled, my phone dinged with a text message.
Bethany.
My stomach became a pool of dread, but dissipated the moment I opened the text.
Bethany:I’m so glad you’re okay, Dagny. You did everything right by handing the money over. Always protect yourself first. Money comes and goes, so never worry about that. Do you want some time off? Ellie isn’t leaving for college for three more weeks. She can cover you. Or I can, too.
Relief swept through me. Of course they weren’t upset. Of course Bethany said the exact right thing. She’d even texted, which I preferred over talking on the phone. Stuttering in person was one thing—the other person could see my attempts to speak and most people were patient. The phone was worse. Long silences were often misinterpreted, and I ended up talking over people without meaning too, or they did it to me.
Dagny:No, thank you. I’d rather work. Thankfully nothing terrible happened, and I appreciate your words. I wanted to do the right thing.
For a moment, I hesitated over sending it. The last line made me feel a bit like a lost puppy. But then, wasn’t I something of a lost soul tonight? Before I could lose my courage, I hitsend.
Bethany:We are lucky and grateful to have you. Anything we can do, let us know. Mav and I are discussing a panic button that goes right to the sheriff’s office. We’ll keep you updated.
Dagny:Thank you.
With that weight off my chest, I pulled a blanket over me, snuggled farther into the too-large chair, and sank into a blessed oblivion where Jayson rescued me over and over again.
4
Jayson
Almost a week later, my phone buzzed in my hand before I answered a new call. My best friend Vikram’s voice brought a grin to my face when he asked, “Hey man, what’s up?”
“Hey brother,” I said. “Just taking Odin out for a few minutes. How about you?”
A sparkling reservoir lay in front of me as I pulled my cruiser door closed. My Belgian Malinois, Odin, settled in the back after a quick romp in the dry part of the lake bed. We had a full shift ahead of us, and I couldn’t wait for something to distract me. Replays of the Frolicking Moose kept moving through my head, and they always ended on Dagny.
I couldn’t figure out why.
Why did Dagny fill my head? Why couldn’t I stop thinking about her and her level-headed response yesterday? She’d knocked the gun out of the attacker’s hand, which might have saved my life. Dagny had always been around, but whenever I tried to peg a specific memory of her, she only appeared in the background.
“Calling about the wedding,” Vikram said. “Can you believe this garbage? Grady is choosing to settle into happily-never-having-fun-again at just twenty nine years old. I mean . . . she’s a pharmacist. Her father is a freaking oil tycoon and the wealthiest man in Texas. They’re never going to do anything fun ever again.”
A pit formed in my stomach. Ah, yes. Grady’s wedding. The looming problem on my horizon that I couldn’t, apparently, ignore anymore. Considering that the epic island wedding was only a week away, Idefinitelycouldn't ignore it.
Grady was the first man out of our four friends from high school—affectionately called the Band of Merry Idiots by our baseball coach—who was just about to succumb to the big ol’ M word.
Marriage.
