Page 86 of That Friendzone Feeling
“Yup.Fornow, anyway.”Thissubject needs to change and right this second. “I’lldefinitely take a look at this wine stuff for you,Jim.”
Hebites into his sandwich, sending molten cheese squishing out both sides.Unableto get out any words, he nods.
“Butfirst,Ineed to go helpElliotplant some deer cams.”
Deercams.Whythe hell didIhave to say that?AllIcan think of now is theChaseCamand how much like the perfect couple he andEmilylooked on that goddamn red carpet last night.
Christ,Imiss her.
Ifshe hadn’t suggestedItalk with the family,Inever would have had that chat withMaggiejust now, andIwouldn’t already be starting to feel ever so slightly different about it.Youcan’t kick a lifetime guilt habit with one conversation, butI’mcertainInow have one foot on the path that leads in the right direction.
Myphone buzzes, and a thrill runs through me at the mere sight of her name.
EMILY (12:28 PM)
The deal’s done. All signed. On way home. Exhausted. Hollywood not for me.
Whilemy shoulders relax with relief that we are assured the backing to finish the resort, my heart leaps at the rest of the message.
Shecalls my place “home.”Andshe hates whereChaselives.
Awarm surge of love for her radiates from my heart until it’s consumed my whole being.Ihave never wanted her more.
“Walker?”Elliotcalls from the back door. “Areyou coming?”
24
WALKER
“O
w,”Elliotyells.
“What?Ididn’t hit you.”
Hedrops the metal stake he was holding upright and whips off his glove.
“Youtotally did,” he says, examining his fingers.
“Ipromise you, ifI’dactually hit you with this”—IheftJim’sancient sledgehammer—“you’d be missing at least one of those.”Ismack the heavy end into the palm of my hand. “Thiscould kill a person with one blow, never mind flatten a finger.”
Thefresh, cold air has given an added edge to the liftIfelt after the chat withMaggie.It’slike a renewed sense of purpose is rising within me minute by minute.Andit might be the cause of the unexpectedly vigorous burst of energy that ricocheted through poorElliot’sfrozen fingers.
“Let’stry again,”Elliotsays, putting his glove back on and picking up the stake.
“Whydo the cameras have to be on stakes anyway?”Iask.
Everything’sstarting to come into focus.IthinkIknow whatIneed to do.ButIalso want to contribute toMaggie’shappiness by helping her identify the mysterious leaf-nibbler.I’djust like to do it a bit quicker. “Couldn’twe set them on the ground or on little tripods or something?”
“They’retoo light.”Hepicks up one of the cameras and tosses it in his hand. “Theymight blow over.Itcan get windy here, being on the side of a hill.”
“Okay, hold it lower down this time.”Ibang the top of the stake, and it penetrates the earth by about a quarter of an inch.
“That’smore progress thanImade.Luckyyou came.”Elliotlooks up at me from his stake-gripping. “Whyareyou here, anyway?”
“Justneeded to get out of the city for a bit.”Iswing the hammer, and the stake drops a bit more.
“Workstress?” he asks.
