Page 99 of The Wild Card
But I feel like I’m the one learning to trust, and in some ways, it’s like working out—I’m flexing muscles, pushing myself past what’s comfortable, hoping in the end I’ll see results after putting in the work.
In any case, I do call Thayden the next day when Molly’s at the coffee shop.
“Finally,” he says. “I didn’t want to drive back out there. At least, not until I have a new car.”
“Didn’t you just buy a Bronco?” I ask.
“Yeah, but Delilah thought it was adorbs—her words—so she took it. And I don’t like the way the Mercedes rides on the highway.”
“Such a tortured life you lead,” I say dryly. “Now why have you been hassling me?”
“You didn’t just read the texts I sent?” he asks.
“I read some of them. The ones telling me I better call you back or else. Isn’t that considered a threat—legally speaking?”
He ignores this. “I have exciting news.”
“We’ve got competing offers for the gym?”
“Not quite. But something for your future,” Thayden says. I wait for more, but I only hear some shuffling and what sounds like children playing in the background.
“Care to elaborate? Also what are you doing?”
“I lost my wedding band in Zilker Park, so I’m out here with a metal detector and my dog—Apollo, no! Sit. No squirrels today. You promised.” He groans, and there’s a sharp series of barks. “Quiet, boy. As for elaborating, no—I don’t care to. You made me wait, so now you can see how it feels.”
I can almost picture the scene: Thayden with a metal detector, trying to wrangle his Great Dane. I hope Apollo wrapsmy lawyer up in his leash and sends him sprawling, getting grass stains on whatever designer pants he’s wearing.
“When do I get this good news, then?”
“Will you be at poker before the wedding?”
I’d almost forgotten about poker—a game Tank set up as a kind of bachelor party for James before the wedding. I also didn’t realize Thayden was invited to—or knew about—either one.
“You heard about James and Winnie’s wedding?”
He scoffs. “I know everything. I am the keeper of the family secrets. And I’ll keep yours until Thursday. Come a little early. We can meet at the gym. Does that work?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” I haven’t set foot in the building for a few weeks, trusting everything to David, the manager who’s basically been running it for me. “I guess that’s fine.”
“Good. We’ll meet you there.”
“We? Who else will be there?” I ask, but then there’s a shout, a bunch of barking, and the phone goes dead against my ear.
CHAPTER 22
Collin
Heading backto my gym after so many weeks away feels like returning to the scene of some kind of crime. Which feels silly. And sad. I call Molly a few times on the way, but the call doesn’t go through for some reason. There’s some message about the customer being unavailable. Weird.
There are some areas of Sheet Cake that don’t have great reception, so maybe it’s that. I’m just not sure why Molly would be at any of them. I know I just kissed her goodbye a few hours ago, but knowing I won’t see her until late tonight feels absolutely unacceptable.
In the parking lot, I send a quick text to Winnie asking if she’s seen Molly.
Winnie:Calm down, lover boy. We’re picking her up in a bit for the meeting. Need a proof of life photo?
Collin:If I don’t sound like a creeper, yes—I’d like a photo. What meeting?
Winnie:LLLS.
