“Can’t she get someone else to fill in?” Greg asks.
“Cher’s the Maid of Honor.” Liam says, looking at Greg like he’s an idiot. I smile, thinking the same.
“Doesn’t she have a best pal or something?” Greg ventures.
“She’s already a bridesmaid, my friend.”
“So bump her up.”
“It’s not that easy, man.” Liam states. “There’s a dress. They’re not the same between bridesmaid and maid of honor.”
“Can’t Hanna make an exception?” Greg’s confused. He has no idea. I’m starting to feel like maybe he is all talk.
“Well, she could, if push comes to shove, but like I said, it’s not so easy. Just think about the repercussions here, and I'm not just talking about switching out a dress.”
“I get that. But if her sister’s being a bitch, what choice has she got?”
Liam, growing impatient, lifts a hand. “Look, I know that you guys didn’t just come here to talk about family politics. What have you got?”
I give him a rundown of the numbers that we need, and a list of the things that we’re working on today and tomorrow. “I’ll get you that later, once Hanna calms down.” Liam states. After we finish with the quick debriefing, he suggests we come back later tonight, and we agree.
The second I get in my car and head home, I call Sara. “I think you can call off the dogs.” I tell her.
“What are you talking about? Hanna?”
“Yeah. Apparently, they had a big fight, and it all came out.”
Sara’s tone is feigned disappointment. “Well, isn’t that just a kick in the nuts. I had this whole thing planned out.”
“Sorry.” I chuckle. “Keep it on the back burner for now, in case plans change.”
“Will do.”
I pull up to my house, expecting to see Greg’s car there, but instead, it’s Travis’s truck. Greg should be here any minute, so I feel a shiver up my spine, thinking that I better get rid of Travis before we have yet another awkward situation. “Okay, good. I gotta go.”
“Why the hurry?”
“Damage control.”
“Travis?”
I look at the display, wondering if my sister somehow is psychic, or if she knows why he’s here. “What do you know.”
“Nothing. It was just a guess.”
“Sara...” I warn.
“I swear to God, Becky, I don’t know why he’s there.” A pause. “But call me after to tell me why.” She clicks off and I scoff a laugh.
Swiftly, I walk to my door. Travis still has a key, because, technically, he still owns the house with me, since we’re not divorced. We’re not even legally separated if you’re keeping score. When I get inside, I see him going through an old box of his stuff. “What are you doing here?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.
“Oh, I knew I had some Christmas shit tucked away in here somewhere, and I didn’t want to bother you.” he says sheepishly. “I hope I'm not intruding.”
“No, not at all, but I've got a ton of work to do.” I say, setting my keys on the table, and my messenger bag with my laptop in it, next to them. I want to get him out of here fast, but I don’t want to tell him why, fearing that he’ll berate me again, telling me how much he gets a gut feeling about Greg. No kidding. Message well received, and he’s right. But I'm not giving him the satisfaction.
“Sure, okay.” Travis chews on the inside of his thumb nervously. “Do you need help with anything, darlin’?”
I shake my head. “No, I'm fine, thanks.”