Page 23 of Before I Say I Don't
“You? Stepping into my kitchen? No, thank you. I’ll handle it.”
As Danica headed toward the kitchen, I stood up, my concern growing, and made my way to the bathroom.
I knocked softly but firmly. “Jayla, are you okay? Do you need anything?”
A weak response came from behind the door, “No—I’m fine.”
I could hear the faucet running, drowning out much of her voice, but not the unease beneath it.
I pressed my palm flat against the cool wood of the door, as if I could push kindness through wood.
“You sure?” I asked, carefully, just as Danica approached the door with a glass of water in her hands.
There was a pause on the other side.
“It was something I ate,” she explained, and then I heard the faint sound of a toilet flushing.
Danica caught my expression. An unspoken exchange passed between us, but she kept her lips pressed together in silence.
Jayla exited the bathroom, her complexion slightly pale but forced a smile.
“Sorry,” she said apologetically, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “That chicken salad from earlier was definitely notfresh-fresh.”
“Mmm. Let’s hope that’s really all it is,” Danica murmured, her voice edged with doubt.
“You sure you’re okay?” I asked.
“Yes, girl.”
I’d seen enough witnesses on the stand to recognize the signs: discomfort, evasion, the little cracks that show when someone’s hiding more than they’re saying. Maybe everyone else would let it slide, but not me. My gut had already filed that undersuspicious activity,and once my instincts tagged something, I couldn’t unsee it.
“You okay?” Kendall asked, hopping up instantly when we all reentered the room.
“I’m fine,” Jayla responded. “How much more do we have to go over? I need to lie down—it’s been a long day.”
“I agree,” I said, giving Danica a look.
“Not much,” Danica replied, flipping through her notes. “We’ll make this quick.”
Danica flew through the last two items with the precision of a surgeon eager to close an incision.
“Call times are printed on the back of your folders,” she instructed, her tone crisp and authoritative. “The vendor contact sheet is stowed in the top pocket. Make sure your duties are highlighted. And don’t forget—bring your flats, edge control, and definitely your IDs if you intend to drink like you were raised in civilized company.”
Diane reached for another lemon bar and then thought better of it when Danica’s eyes slid to her plate.
“I’ll package these to-go,” Diane offered sweetly. “That way, you can savor them later when you’re… a little less preoccupied.”
The sound of chairs scraping against the hardwood floor filled the room. Then hugs were exchanged.
Kendall leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on my cheek.
“Text me if you need anything,” she said, knowing she doesn’t answer texts before noon or the fact that we hardly ever text.
Zaria, ever the trendsetter, excitedly shared her discovery of a makeup artist renowned for working with glamorous celebrities. Danica politely informed her that we already had one... a good one.
Lena gave my hand an encouraging squeeze and whispered, “You’re doing great.”
Serena murmured, “If your future mother-in-law wears ivory, I’m tripping her gently," she kidded, a mischievous glint in her eye.
