Broken Hearts, Fences and Other Things to Mend (26 page)

ask— or explain— what was going on. “Are you ready to go?” I

could hear the challenge in his voice, and I glanced down at my-

self and felt my stomach plunge. I could pretend nothing was

wrong in the driveway, but actually go out like this? To a restau-

rant, with other people?

“Sure,” I said, though I could hear my voice sounded unsteady.

I looked down and saw that I was still in socks, since the twins

had tied my shoelaces together. “Let me um . . . just . . . get my

shoes.” I turned toward the door and caught my refl ection in the

silver DAVIDSON MANOR plaque that adorned the whole middle

third of it. Refl ected back at me was proof of just how ridiculous

I looked. I saw my shoulders slump.

“Sorry,” I said, turning back to him, somehow feeling even

more embarrassed now that I hadn’t admitted what was wrong

right from the beginning. “I can’t do this.”

Josh laughed, shaking his head. “I was wondering when you

were going to break.”

“I was babysitting for the twins as a favor to Hallie,” I ex-

plained, wondering why I hadn’t just led with this. “And they

decided they were going to help me get ready. And then they kind

of destroyed the house . . .”

“I’ve met those girls,” Josh said. “I believe it.”

“Anyway,” I said, “I’m really sorry. I planned on being ready,

and on . . . not looking like this.”

—-1

“Want to change or something?” he offered. “I can wait.”

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It was incredibly appealing— the idea that maybe the eve ning

could still be salvaged, that maybe the twins’ make over and

house destruction hadn’t totally derailed the night. But then I

thought about the house, and what a mess it was, and how much

cleaning I had ahead of me, and knew that even if we did still get

dinner, half my brain would be on the state of the kitchen and

making sure I got home before Rosie saw it.

“Could we do it another night instead?” I asked. “I feel so bad

about this. It’ll be my treat.”

“Well, I don’t know if I can agree to that,” Josh said with a

smile. “But how about Friday?”

“Perfect,” I said immediately, realizing only after I’d said it

that getting dinner on Friday was veering dangerously close to

date territory. And maybe because the focus was off my own out-

fi t, I noticed for the fi rst time that he was dressed up, wearing

khakis and a polo shirt, his short hair carefully combed. He looked

even cuter than he normally did, maybe because I could see the

effort behind it, the comb tracks still visible in his hair. I thought

about how, until the twins derailed me, I had also wanted to put

a lot of effort into getting ready. And a moment later, I wondered

what this meant, since to night was supposed to have been just a

dinner between friends.

“Friday,” he said with a nod. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

I raised my hand. “No last- minute babysitting,” I said, relieved

that he was being so great about this. “I promise.”

He smiled, then turned to go, but stopped after a few steps

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and walked back to me, holding out the small bouquet of fl owers.

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“For you,” he said.

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I took a step closer and saw how lovely they were. It was a

mixed bouquet, all bright summer fl owers, oranges and yellows

and purples. As I reached out to take them, it hit me that Teddy

had never given me fl owers. He’d told me once he was against the

commodifi cation of nature. But until my hand closed around the

stems of this bouquet, I hadn’t known how nice it would be to get

them.

I expected Josh to let go right away, and was surprised when

he didn’t. I looked up at him, and realized how close he was, and

how our hands were just a few inches away from touching. I no-

ticed how good he smelled, like light, woodsy cologne and spear-

mint gum. My heart started pounding harder. We were close

enough to kiss.

The thought was so startling that I stepped backward invol-

untarily, taking the fl owers with me. After all, I hadn’t kissed

anyone besides Teddy in two years, and only Ford (and then only

one time) before that. I knew that it was way too soon for me to

be thinking about kissing someone new.

Also, what if I’d forgotten how to do it?

“Thank you,” I said, looking down into the fl owers and hoping

he couldn’t tell that I’d just been thinking about kissing him.

“They’re beautiful.”

“They reminded me of you,” Josh said, giving me a slightly

embarrassed smile. He took a step back toward his truck. “I’ll see

you soon,” he said.

“Soon,” I echoed, smiling at him, hearing for the fi rst time

how the word sounded like a promise.

—-1

Josh pulled out of the driveway, honking once as he left. I

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watched until his taillights faded from view, then headed back to

the house, feeling like the day had already contained far too

much drama considering that it wasn’t even dark yet. I stepped

inside and saw Bruce through the windows, pacing around the

pool and yelling into his headset while some underling in Los

Angeles undoubtedly cowered on the other end.

I took the fact that he was otherwise occupied as a good sign

and threw myself into cleaning the kitchen. When it was more

or less in order— even though the spices were signifi cantly de-

pleted— I tackled the laundry room, and then went from room to

room with the Windex and a roll of paper towels, trying to get all

the handprints I could. By the time I fi nished, I was utterly spent

and collapsed on the couch as Bruce came inside and walked past

me, still talking on his Bluetooth. He gave me a nod as he cont-

inued back to his domain, which was when I felt my stomach

plunge.

His award
. I held my breath, only letting it out when Bruce

went into his study and not into his brag room. I knew I could

only get away with hiding the evidence for so long— Bruce was

fond of showing the award to almost everyone who came by,

which included encouraging them to hold it.

I pulled out my phone, knowing there was only one person to

to call. But would he think it was weird that I was talking to him

again? I hesitated for only a moment before scrolling through my

contacts and fi nding his name. The thought never would have

crossed my mind if I’d still been with Teddy. And the fact was,

-1—

Ford was pretty much the only one who could help me. He was not

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only one of the smartest people I knew, but also the one of the

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most devious, and he knew how to handle his father. I let out a

breath and made the call.

“Twice in one day,” Ford said in lieu of hello, picking up on the

second ring. “Do you need something else anagrammed?”

“No,” I said, feeling myself smile. “Just your advice. There’s

a . . . bit of a situation here.” I took a breath and told him about

the Spotlight award and my temporary fi x that wasn’t going to

hold up under any close inspection.

When I’d fi nished, Ford let out a low whistle. “It’s too bad this

didn’t happen in L.A.,” he said. “I would always blame an earth-

quake. Got me out of a lot of jams.”

I somehow had a feeling that even Bruce wasn’t going to buy

the excuse that an earthquake had hit the Hamptons, and even

then, just his house, and then only one portion of it. “Well,” I

said, “barring some apocalyptic weather, I’m not sure an earth-

quake is going to show up here anytime soon.”

“Can you get it out of there without Bruce noticing?” Ford

asked, his tone now all business. “Send it to me. I know a guy who

knows a guy.”

“Okay,” I said, beyond relieved that someone had a plan other

than just balancing the broken part on the base and hoping for

the best. “But what should I tell him when he notices it’s gone?”

“Tell him you wanted to get it polished,” Ford said immedi-

ately. It was one of the reasons that Ford got away with the things

he got away with— he was great at coming up with excuses on the

spot. “To thank him for his hospitality. He’ll totally buy it.”

I could feel relief fl ooding through me. “Thank you,” I said.

—-1

“Don’t you mean
mahalo
?” Ford asked, and I could hear that

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he was smiling. “The one time you could use that word correctly,

and you choose not to?”

“Just keeping you on your toes,” I said. “But I really, really ap-

preciate it.”

“It’s no big thing,” he said. “And I talked to Gwyn; it looks like

we’ll be there around the Fourth. So I’ll be able to bring the

award back in person.”

“That would be awesome,” I said, before I did the math and

realized that the Fourth was still two weeks away. I crossed my

fi ngers that Bruce wouldn’t get too suspicious before then.

Ford told me where to send the award, and we were just start-

ing to discuss his dad’s latest movie and how abysmal the script

was when another call beeped in. “Gotta take this, Gem,” he said.

“But call if you need to, okay? Any time.”

“Sure,” I said.
“Aloha.”
We hung up, and I was fully prepared

to head upstairs and take longest shower of my life and then col-

lapse, when I realized I’d left the car down at the beach parking

lot.

Luckily, it was only a few minutes’ walk from the house, or I

really might have left it there for the time being. I was pretty

sure it wasn’t going to get towed, since I had a feeling it would

be too massive for most tow trucks to handle. I got there just

before the parking gates were being locked for the eve ning, and

drove back to Bruce’s feeling like I’d dodged a bullet, that at least

I’d gotten one break this afternoon. As I grabbed my purse from

the seat, I saw the Sur la Plage bag in the fi rst row of backseats,

-1—

and remembered that I still had to tell my dad about the fact I’d

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spent a huge amount of money on a bikini that I then gave away.

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I fi gured that I might as well have the documentation ready

to show him whenever he got home, and reached for the receipt

in the bottom of the bag.

But it wasn’t there, and it also didn’t appear when I shook out

my whole purse, and then went through every piece of paper in

my wallet.

I remembered the saleslady placing the receipt in the bag,

with the bikini. I no longer had the receipt, and Hallie had the

bikini. Which meant it must have gotten in with the bathing

suit, tucked in with the tissue paper that I hadn’t removed. The

receipt that had my full name on it.

Which meant . . .

I closed my eyes and sat back against the seat, but this didn’t

stop reality from intruding. I had just lost everything.

I had accidentally told Hallie exactly who I really was.

—-1

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8:09 PM

Hey Hallie!

Just had a question for you.

No big deal. Everything’s fi ne. Just text me

whenever you get a chance, okay?

Me

9:00 AM

Hey Hallie! Sophie again.

Just give me a call or text me if you

get a sec, okay? I had a question.

Me

3:12 PM

Hi Hallie! Just checking in again.

Call me if you get this?

-1—

0—

I stared down at my phone, feeling myself getting more and

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more ner vous. The night before, as soon as I’d realized that I’d left

the receipt with the bathing suit, I had texted Hallie. I had been

hoping to maybe get to the suit before she noticed the receipt was

there— I hadn’t worked out what I would say, exactly, but fi gured

I’d sort it out in the moment. But I hadn’t heard from Hallie. Not

that night, and not all day today. This didn’t seem like her, to ig-

nore my texts and two calls, which had gone right to voicemail.

And the more I looked at my phone, which was utterly silent, the