Page 3 of Savage Hearts
“Yeah.”
“So what does she think about all this?”
“Probably the same things you do.” Her voice gains an edge. “Except she’s happy for me.”
Man, this conversation is a minefield. I’ll be lucky if I survive with all my limbs intact.
Trying to keep my tone civil, I say, “I’m not not happy for you, Sloane. I’m just in shock. Also confused, to be honest.”
“That I’m finally settling down?”
“No. Well, yes, but not mainly that.”
“What, then?”
“That you’re reaching out to me. That you’re telling me about it. That you’re inviting me to visit you. I mean, we haven’t exactly been close.”
“I know,” she says softly. “I think that’s probably my fault. And I’d really like to see if we can fix that.”
After a long pause, she says, “What are you doing right now?”
“Lying flat on my back on the floor, staring at the ceiling, wishing I’d never taken all that ecstasy at Burning Man last year.”
She says drily, “You’re not having a drug flashback.”
“I beg to differ.”
She runs out of the infinitesimal amount of patience she has, and snaps, “You’re coming to visit us. It’s settled. We’ll send the jet for you—”
“Excuse me.Jet?”
“—on Friday night.”
I sit up abruptly. The room starts to spin. She’s dislodged my brain with all this nonsense talk of matrimony. “Wait, do you meanthisFriday? As in, three days from now?”
“Yes.”
“Sloane, I have a job! I can’t just jet off to… Where would I be going in this jet you’d send?”
She hesitates. “I can’t tell you that.”
I deadpan, “I see. How illuminating.”
“Quit being a pain in the ass, Riley, and say you’ll come! I’m trying to be a good sister, here! I want us to be closer. I know after Mom died, things were rough, and we’ve never really been, you know…”
“‘Friends’ is the word you’re looking for,” I say acidly.
She draws a quiet breath. “Okay. That’s fair. But I’d like to change that. Please give me a chance.”
Another “please.” I lie back down again, utterly confused.
Whoever this guy is that she’s marrying, he must really be something else to morph the world’s biggest ballbuster into such a softie.
I decide on a whim that I have to meet him. I bet he’s putting Valium into her morning coffee, the evil genius! He’s spiking her afternoon wine with Xanax!
God, why did I never think of that?“Okay, Sloane. I’m in. I’ll see you Friday.”
She squeals in excitement. I hold the phone away from my ear and stare at it.
