Page 157 of Wingwoman
The deep breath I took faltered, trembling in my lungs.
New York. It was what I wanted, right? What all this had been for in the first place? But suddenly, I didn’t feel like leaving. Even without Josh in my life, Texas suddenly felt more like home.
Maggie was here. My sisters were here… my dad and Vivian. Besides, once I managed to return Josh’s fee, I’d be right back where I started. Broke. And alone. “I also thought I’d let you know that I have an audition out your way and I’ll be passing through Aust—”
I yanked the phone from my ear and jammed my finger onto the delete button.
Message deleted, the robot voice said.
I didn’t want to hear anymore from Brent. My paparazzi scheme to make him jealous had workedtoowell. He was texting and calling me more than he had back when we were together for God’s sake.
Meanwhile, the one person I wanted to call me has been radio silent for the last two weeks. Unless you count theactualradio… in which case, I’d heard his voice crooning about me constantly.
Next message… the robot voice said.
“Hope, it’s Josh. Don’t hang up.”
Every muscle in my body went rigid at the sound of his voice. It was like a ghost saying my name. Slightly raspy, like sleep had been evading him for days like it had been me. So different from Brent’s crisp, clear voice, Josh’s had some mileage. That emotionally wrung quality that rockstars embraced.
It made my skin heat and tingle from scalp to toe.
I glanced down at the screen, noting the time he had left the message. About twenty minutes ago.
“It’s your dad,” his message said. That heat in my belly turned frigid like an icy blast hitting me all at once. “He’s at Nina’s and he’s drunk. I’m on my way to get him now.”
I grabbed my things and ran out the door to Nina’s.
Forty-Four
JOSH
I gotto Nina’s in record time. Just as I was walking in, a text pinged from Hope.
Hope:
I’m on my way. I’ll meet you there.
Seeing her name, her words on my screen, made my heart clench painfully in my chest.
I’d be seeing her in person in a matter of fifteen minutes. Her dad’s condo was only a short drive from the bar.
It was Wednesday night and the bar reflected the quietness of a work night. One table of two couples on a double-date. Another table of a few college-aged girls. And with the exception of one person, they were all pretty mellow. Except for Rick Evans who sat at the bar singing along with Faith Hill at the top of his lungs.
Behind the bar, Nina raised her brow at me. “This belongs to you?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I muttered, sliding onto the stool beside him. “Lemme settle his tab,” I added, tossing down my credit card.
“Josh!” Rick exclaimed, hooded eyes widening just a touch when he noticed me there. “You came!”
“Hey, buddy,” I said, dropping my palm to his shoulder and giving him a steadying squeeze. “I’d ask how you are, but I think it’s safe to say you’ve seen better nights, huh?”
He blew out an exaggerated breath and drained the rest of his whiskey. “You can say that again.”
I slid the tumbler out of reach and instead nudged the abandoned cup of coffee toward him. “Wanna tell me about it?”
“My kids,” he muttered. “I saw them today.”
My spine straightened. “Hope? Is she okay?”
