Page 101 of The Situation
My screen lights up.
Astrid: Weird bat call.
Me:
Astrid: What do you want?
Me: About 50 candles delivered to my house, please. I think I like amber and vanilla. Does that sound right?
Astrid: How in the world would I know what scents you like?
“I should’ve written that down somewhere,” I mumble.
Me: Go with that. Feel free to wing it with other stuff, too.
I glance up at my blueberry-stained sheets.
Me: I like blueberry.
Astrid: I officially know more than I ever wanted to know about you.
Me: You could sell that information.
Astrid: Oh my God.
Me: Can you have someone put them in one of my closets?
Astrid: Any specific closet?
Me: Nah. Whatever.
Aurora moves, the sheets slipping across her body. She’s so soft and delicate. I just want to protect her—to keep anything bad from ever happening to her. Again.
My jaw clenches as I turn back to my phone.
Astrid: Anything else while I’m doing the most random shit for you today?
Me: Yes. Thanks for asking. I need “fuzzy” blankets. Just toss them throughout the house.
Astrid: Size? Shape? Colors? Textures?
Me: Assorted. Assorted. Assorted but not white. Cozy.
Astrid: SO HELPFUL. Due date?
Me: Tonight by six-ish?
Astrid: I don’t get paid enough for this.
Me: I’ll get you a raise. All you have to do is ask. (I’m not Gannon.)
Astrid: Bye, Tate.
Me:
I glance at Aurora one final time, then finish getting ready for work.
ChapterTwenty-Four
