Page 17 of Written in the Stars
UNKNOWN NUMBER (11:41 A.M.):it was supposed to be like im pissed at you and demand answers but not like im mouth breathing over your shoulder and wearing a hickey mask
UNKNOWN NUMBER (11:41 A.M.):*hockey
UNKNOWN NUMBER (11:42 A.M.):none of this is helping huh?
UNKNOWN NUMBER (11:42 A.M.):nvm
Darcy lifted her hand, resting her fingers along the notch at the base of her throat. Never mind? No, not never mind. This stranger thoughtDarcyhad some explaining to do?
Staring blankly at the absurd conversation, it took the preinstalled wind chime ringtone to snap her out of her daze.Unknown Numberwas calling. Darcy’s pulse sped. Should she answer or let it go to voice mail? She hated talking on the phone, even to Brendon. But could she really settle for a voice mail? What if they didn’t leave one? On the third ring, the burn of curiosity bested her nerves. “Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello?” A spike of irritation made Darcy sit up straighter, her spine steeling. “Who is this?”
Hopefully, thecut to the chasewas implied.
“Right. Hi. It’s Elle. Jones. Elle Jones. We had drinks last night—”
“I know who you are.” Darcy shut her eyes, and an image of Elle’s pretty face appeared behind Darcy’s lids. She wasn’t easily forgotten.
Elle chuckled, but it lacked spirit, sounded stilted. “Right. I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m calling. Aside from, youknow, wanting to make sure you didn’t think I wasactuallya serial killer.”
Worst nightmare wasn’t farfetched. Brendontrulyknew how to pick them.
“Look, can you spare me the runaround and tell me what you want? I’m rather busy at the moment.”
Her coffee was getting cold and microwaving it would be a cardinal sin. The sooner they wrapped this up, the sooner Darcy’s life could return to business as usual.
A pause, followed by rustling loud enough for Darcy to yank the phone from her ear followed. “—because you’ll never guess who I ran into this morning.”
Darcy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Who?”
Elle chuckled dryly. “Your brother, and boy did he have some interesting things to say to me.”
Elle had run into Brendon, big deal. It wasn’t like—
The dots connected, the implication of this run-in clear.Disastrouslyclear.
“Fuck,” she muttered.
“And this”—Elle gave a dramatic pause—“is where you have some explaining to do.”
***
Darcy twisted the simple, platinum band around the middle finger of her right hand and stared at the front door.
What was supposed to be a peaceful, productive, bra-off morning was now inching its way into a stressful, inefficacious,bra-on afternoon. Any minute now, Elle would arrive, all because Brendon couldn’t keep his big mouth shut.
Granted, somewhere buried in there, Darcy owned a bit of culpability in this, but it was Brendon who’d messed with her otherwise perfect plan for atleasta month without meddling. She’dtoldhim not to say anything to Elle, to not screw this up for her, but he’d outplayed her. Now, she’d have to explain this entire convoluted situation to Elle. Worst part was, she had no road map for this conversation, no game plan; whatshe’dsay depended on what Brendon had said,how muchBrendon had said, and how Elle had reacted.
All Darcy had going in her favor was that Brendon had yet to blow up her phone or come pounding down her door. Best-case scenario, this would be a brief, relatively painless conversation after which she and Elle could, once again, go their separate ways. With the caveat that Elle couldn’t say anything to Brendon. Not yet, anyway. Worst-case scenario...
Darcy cracked her knuckles.Painlessmight be easier said than done. Already a headache bloomed between her eyes.
A rhythmic, five-note knock sounded against the front door. Darcy’s heart tripped, stuttering out the couplet response. Game time. She stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her heather-blue lounge pants, and padded over to the door on bare feet. She took a deep breath and flipped the lock, yanking the door open like ripping off a Band-Aid.
Slouched against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest, Elle glared up at Darcy with a withering stare. A stare made all the more disconcerting when Elle performed another one of those head-to-toe perusals of Darcy’s body. Darcy went dizzywith the ferocity and speed of blood rising to the surface of her skin, her blush a beacon that no amount of affectation could conceal.
