Page 23 of Free to Run
Keene. Cassidy. Keene. Em. Keene. Colby. Keene. Keene. Keene.
Seriously, people, I don’t just want my run this morning. I need my run this morning. Stop calling!
I pause to turn on the Do Not Disturb function. If it’s an emergency, Corinna can break through by calling. Since everyone in the family knows she loves her sleep, waking her ass up had damn well better be an emergency, or she’ll likely gut you with a kitchen knife. If Corinna’s calling, emergency or not, it’s for a good reason.
Once back on the road, I perform a check of my body. I need to be careful not to pull anything or push too hard today, even if I need this run more than I need food. What I don’t need is to risk an injury that will put me out of commission for weeks or months because I was stupid, upset, and didn’t get enough sleep.
As my feet slap the pavement, I think about last night.
Groaning aloud, I get angry. At myself.
What the hell was Keene thinking?
Why is he suddenly in my way?
Fueled by anger, it’s time to wrap it up and finish my run. I’m deciding if I want to veer directly home or head toward Main Street with my emergency twenty for a mocha when my phone rings.
It rings.
Shit.
“Corinna, what is it? What’s wrong?” I demand as I stop running, my breath coming out in huffs.
“Sister, drama has shown up at your door. And I do mean that literally.” Corinna’s drawl flows effortlessly through the line.
My heart rate slows as I lean my back against the crosswalk sign. I wave a few cars on who were waiting on me. “I’ve been ignoring calls all morning. Is this an emergency?” I snap, frustrated. If gossip about last night has caught her ear and she’s calling to get the dirt directly from the source, I may scream. Literally.
“Oh no, Ali. I mean drama has shown up atyourdoor. Tall, hunky, brown hair, green-eyed drama. And he looks mighty pissed off because you’re not answering your door and your car’s in the driveway. He’s rung your damn bell a million times and was pounding on your door, waking me up. You understand? Now he’s just sitting on your doorstep.” She pauses for dramatics. “Waiting.”
My heartbeat increases so much, it sets off the heart rate monitor on my wrist. Muting the thing, I clarify, “Are you telling me Keene is sitting in front on my doorstep? At my house?” Because that seems ridiculous.
“I am indeed, sister dear. It seems like there’s a story here.” Corinna, always up for a good story, is about to bargain for the details. I know it.
I sigh as I stretch my legs. I do not need a muscle cramp while I’m negotiating. “What do you want?”
“I want to know what happened and to go shopping.” Corinna is adamant about what she wants for once. While I mentally thank God for it, I have no idea how we’ll pull this off. I’m a hot mess right now.
“Cori, I stink!” I laugh into the phone. “How do I get back to the house, change clothes, and shower?”
I can almost hear the wheels spinning in her head while she’s silently thinking over options.
Finally, she asks, “Where are you?”
“Not far from Main Street.” I refuse to give up my exact location in the event Keene has figured out a way to bug my phone. I decide to power the sucker down when I’m done with this call.
“Get coffee, and then shower at the office. I’ll meet you there in an hour with clothes. We can grab food and you can talk. We’ll hit the mall after,” she says definitively.
Bless her determined, conniving heart. I love this plan.
“Done. I’ll meet you there within the hour.”
I hang up and turn off my phone before taking off in the direction of The Coffee Shop.
* * *
Corinnaand I decide to make a day of it and head to Orem’s Diner in Wilton for a monster breakfast before driving to the Danbury Fair Mall. Corinna, showing mad stealth skills, snuck into my back door using my extra key, nabbed my purse and a pair of shorts, a T-shirt, flip-flops, and other necessities. After sneaking back to her place, she made enough noise to wake the dead, stomping to her back deck and then to her car, waving at Keene as she drove off.
Sneaky bitch. I love her. I’m totally treating her to breakfast.
