“Of course he’s not a silly teenage boy. He’s a man who knows how to please a woman, and his sights are all set on you.”
“I don’t want his sights set on me. I want him to leave me alone.”
“You might be able to lie to a lot of people, Grace, but I’m not one of them—poor saps who think you’re a woman of the world, tough and independent. Yes, you are amazing, and strong, but you love him, have always loved him, and all you’re doing is prolonging the inevitable by fighting against him and yourself.”
“Why, again, are we best friends?” Grace asked with a furrowed brow.
“Because I will always tell you how it is, whether it’s what you want to hear or not,” Sage replied.
“Ugh. That’s not your greatest quality. Your job is to drown yourself in misery with me anytime I need a friend to bash men; it’s not to tell me I’m in love with the one man I shouldn’t be in love with. There are things I can’t tell you—that I won’t tell you—right now about Cam. I don’t want you to hate him. I just . . . I just don’t think I can do this again. Wanting him and knowing he’s not right for me are two different matters.”
“Number one, I wouldn’t be your true friend if I said only what you wanted to hear. Only those who want to please you tell you a bunch of crap. A true friend tells you what you need to hear. And number two, you know this will kill me not knowing what you can’t tell me, but because I do love you, I will be patient and wait it out.”
“I do love you, even if you are a royal pain in the ass. Hey, remember what Shakespeare said? ‘The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.’ You know, we could just shoot all the men in the world and live together happily ever after.”
“Trust me, I’ve thought about that,” Sage said, “but I just can’t give up the sex. Now that I’ve discovered it, it’s too damn hot to ever let go of.”
“Fine, you hussy, be that way. But that’s not what I called you about.”
“So speak to me. You know I’ll be honest, Grace.”
“It’s strange, really. I think I’m getting Alzheimer’s or something.” Grace looked around her apartment, trying to see whether anything seemed out of place. Was she just paranoid, or did she have something to be afraid of?
“Um, Grace. You’re only twenty-eight. I don’t think you’re ready for the nursing home quite yet.”
“I don’t know. It’s just little stuff, but it’s making me feel like I’m going out of my mind.”
“Okay, start from the beginning and tell me what’s happening,” Sage said, but something in the background started beeping. “Crap! Hold on.”
Grace listened in, hearing a lot of frantic movement, and the beeping sound grew more intense, making her pull the phone away from her ear. All of which was followed by a few colorfully unladylike words from her best friend.
A couple of minutes later, Sage came back on the line, and the beeping grew softer. “Sorry about that. I was boiling eggs and I let the damn water evaporate again. The eggs started burning and then exploded onto the hood vent, and the smoke detector went off. I don’t know why I attempt to cook. Mrs. Brinkman is going to have my hide when she gets back from her days off.”
“You have got to be the only person I know who gets so distracted boiling water that you nearly burn the house down.”
“Listen, missy. I clearly remember being your roommate for a while. I know you aren’t any better in the kitchen than I am,” Sage reminded her. “Now tell me what’s been happening.”
“So this morning I ran out to check the mailbox, because it’s been about a week, and I could have sworn I passed the newspaper sitting in front of my door, and then when I went back up the stairs and came inside, that paper was sitting on the kitchen table, and it was open. I know I must have done it, but I just can’t remember doing it,” Grace said, sighing.
“All right, maybe you are losing it.” Sage laughed, making Grace feel better.
To tell the truth, it had really creeped her out, but she wasn’t exactly a morning person, and she could have easily taken the paper in and flung it on the table hard enough that it opened and then forgotten that she’d done it.
“I just have to remember not to even open my front door until I’ve had at least two full cups of coffee,” Grace replied.
“I agree. Sadly enough, I think I drink at least fifteen cups when I’m working, especially an overnight shift.”
“Well, your days as an intern are just about up, aren’t they?” Grace asked.
“Yes, thank goodness. I only have six months to go, and then we’re going to party like it’s, well, like it’s the end of my schooling forever.”
“Good. Now I need to get off the phone so I can finish making this salad—one of the few items I can make—and then get over to your house on time,” Grace told her.
They ended the call and Grace crumbled up her crispy noodles, adding them to the salad just as her doorbell rang. Was it Girl Scout cookie time? She pulled the door open to find Cam on the other side. The instant ache in her core wasn’t the most positive of signs. Damn this man and the way he made her feel.
“Evening,” he said, a big smile on his face.
“What are you doing here, Cam?”
“I thought I’d be kind and offer you a ride out to Spence’s house.”
“I have a car, thank you,” she said, and tried to shut the door.