Page 107 of Beautifully Wild

One Week Later…

Eden: I love you xxx

I stare at the screen with a list of messages, all from me. My thoughts snowball to panic. I hope he’s safe. Damn, I wish he’d respond. Just once.

52

Eden

Ten Days Later…

“Thesearegood,”Itell Ethan and trace my finger over the design on the desk in front of him. His ideas for a Bali-inspired resort pool would suit our complex.

“I’ve always liked the relaxed setting,” he says. “The garden is a mix of Mediterranean and Bali if you know what I mean.”

“It’s unique in a way. Anyway, we can talk on Monday.” I stand and head to the bathroom. I’ve cut back on tea and coffee the last few days because all I seem to do is pee.

When I emerge, Dana is waiting for me. “Everything okay?”

“Yep. Ever since I finished all the meds from traveling, my body is up and down.”

She nods slowly. “You have a good weekend,” she says as she enters the cubicle.

“You, too.” I walk back to the office and finish packing up my desk.

“Any chance for Friday night work drinks?” Ethan winks at me.

“I can’t, sorry. I have other plans.”

Please don’t wink at me.

Shoving everything into my desk drawer, it can wait to be sorted on Monday. I rush toward the door leaving Ethan to lock up.

I don’t bother changing out of my office clothes. It’s a short drive to Yasmine’s apartment. Finding a parking spot on the street, I grab my bag and walk the path to her apartment door and knock twice.

Yasmine answers, and the aroma of herbs and rice wafts into the night air.

“Come in,” she says.

“We ordered you a Thai red curry.” Amy wipes her hands with a cloth. She points to an Uber Eats bag. “It should still be warm.”

“I’m sorry I am late. Ethan and I were going over some drafts.”

Amy stands and doesn’t respond. She cracks open a bottle of wine. “If you’re going to talk about him, I’ll need more of this.”

“I’m not. When I mention him at work, think of him like you would Dana.”

Amy rolls her eyes.

I grab my food and take a seat next to where Amy is sitting. Her phone lights up next to me—she left it open on Tinder.

I check out the guy posing on her screen. “Want me to decide for you?”

Amy snorts. “Our taste differs.”

“Oops, I super-liked him.”

“You didn’t!” She puts down her wine glass and grabs her phone to check. “Hilarious.” She closes the app, and I laugh. “I have a date on Wednesday night, and I want your opinion on what to wear.”

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