Page 135 of The Games We Play
“Well?” she asked, practically buzzing.
So, I told her. The plan. The details. What I’d need from every one of our friends. Her eyes widened with every word,and before I could finish, she snatched a napkin off the bar and started scribbling furiously.
“This is good,” she said, her pen flying across the paper. “Where the hell did you come up with this?”
I tapped my temple, grinning. “All up here, baby.”
Aspen narrowed her eyes playfully. “Hmm. Sure. Let’s pretend you didn’t get it from one of Penny’s romance books.”
I laughed.
“We’ve got some time,” I said, sobering just slightly. “But… there’s something I need to do first. Before we pull the trigger on any of this.”
She paused, mid-scribble. “And that is?”
I shook my head, the smile on my lips turning slow and sure. “Can’t tell you. Not this one.”
Aspen opened her mouth to protest, but then caught the look on my face and snapped it shut with a grin.
She pointed her pen at me like it was a weapon. “Say less.”
40
MAC
“What the hell are we going to do?” Lizzie hovered over my shoulder as I sat at the desk, typing furiously on the computer. Our supplier emailed late last night, cutting us off. No more liquor deliveries.
In a place as tucked-away and stubbornly small as Faircloud, we didn’t exactly have a long list of backup options.
I let out a low, frustrated sigh and scrubbed a hand down my face. “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
I’d come in early to knock out some office work, but as soon as I saw the message, I called Lizzie. To my surprise, she showed up almost immediately.
“We needed to place a new order today, too,” she said, her tone sharp with urgency. “We’re running low on half the inventory.”
I nodded, eyes locked on the screen, willing a solution to appear. Thinking. Running through options. We could try the commission board for a new distributor, but even if we got a rush order approved, delivery could take forever out here. That’s if a distributor was even willing to make the drive.
My phone buzzed on the desk, vibrating sharply against the wood. I didn’t look at the caller ID. Just grabbed it and brought it to my ear with a brisk, “Yeah?”
“Mac.”
Her voice. Penny’s voice. Breathless. Tight with worry.
I snapped to attention, fingers lifting off the keyboard as a cold current of dread sliced through me.
“Pen?” I asked, heart already thudding in my chest. “What’s wrong?”
“I—I don’t know,” she whispered. It sounded like she was moving, pacing maybe, her voice quiet like she didn’t want to be overheard.
I leaned in instinctively, like that would somehow bring me closer to her. “Talk to me. What do you mean? Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m okay,” she replied quickly. “But it’s Sandy.”
I froze.
Sandy. If it wasn’t Penny, she was the next person I worried about most. I knew what that woman meant to her.
“What happened?”
