Page 66 of How Dare You
Allie hands me an espresso martini, saying, “Coffee and booze.”
I take a grateful sip and let out a sigh. “Let’s get into it. Have you all read it?”
Rhett’s the only one who answers in the negative, and someone texts him the link.
“Obviously, it’s not all true,” I say.
“Not all true,” Allie scoffs, her signature ponytail bouncing when she sneers in the general direction of Trina’s office. “More like it’s all bullshit.”
A heavy, furry head brushes my leg, and I gasp in surprise. Betty has wedged herself between the sofa and the coffee table, and she’s using my feet as a pillow.
“Oh yeah, the dogs are here,” Allie explains, pointing to the back yard. “The other two are out there.”
I scratch the sweet dog behind her ears, her presence another layer of comfort that eases just a little of the tension. “But anyway, it’s out there,” I continue, “and it is the first thing that comes up when you search my name or Friday West.”
“I can work on that,” Sadie says. “It’s not my expertise, but I have a coworker I can ask for help. Might cost a bit, but I can fix it.”
“Amazing, Sadie’s on SEO,” Bea says, writing in a notebook I hadn’t noticed she was holding.
Leaning forward, I ask, “What is that?”
“It’s our team to-do list.” Team. She’s the only one who even works for me, but there are multiple things listed under each name. “Want to know what we have so far?”
“Yes, but first, it is time I be honest about something, so you all have the full picture.” I look to Bea, “No matter what, I am not losing you and you do not have to worry about your job.” The most important thing to me is that she can trust me to follow through on the commitments I’ve made to her as an employer. I especially never want to be like Trina in that regard.
She shrugs, a warm look in her hazel eyes. “Not worried about it.” Bea is not someone who is easily bothered, and she has a level of confidence I strive to replicate. She’s not someone who relies on anyone else, even when she can. Something tells me she has a backup plan for herself if Friday West truly crumbles.
“Financially,” I pause, swallowing the lump in my throat. Rhett meets my eyes across the room and nods in encouragement. “Friday West is in trouble. With the projects we currently have, we only have about three months left.”
My heart beats wildly in my chest, and my eyes bounce around from Allie, Sadie, Bea, and even Luke. Not a drop of judgment to be found. No hurt at the fact that I’ve been keeping a secret. No scolding. Just mixes of surprise, concern, and understanding.
Perhaps it’s the intense standards my mom holds herself and everyone else to, but this is not at all what I was expecting. Guilt roils in my stomach, mixing with the stress and dread that are already there.
Bea tilts her head at me furrowing her brows. “You really think I didn’t know that already?” I shrug. The only thing Bea doesn’t have access to is accounting. I should have realized she would be observant enough to piece it together, but I was too worried about her reaction to think about that logically.
“Devon,” Allie says, “no one’s mad at you. Shit happens, and it’s hard to admit when things aren’t going as well as we want them to.” Her words plant another tiny seed of relief.
Rhett looks up from his phone, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. “Anything on the list for me?” he asks, and by the tone of his voice, he must have just finished reading the blog. This might be the first time I have ever seen him truly angry, but when he looks at me, he still flashes me a comforting smile.
“Yes, actually,” Bea says. “How soon can you get the cabinets done for the Peach Ridge house? He’s our newest client, and we want to do whatever we can to give him an exceptional experience in case he sees the blog and wants to pull out. If we can get their kitchen done ahead of schedule, it would go a long way.”
“I can start on them in the morning,” he says. Looking to me, he asks, “Do you have the plans ready?”
“I’ll send them before I go to bed tonight.” His brow quirks when I say I instead of we, and I give him a tiny nod. “We finalized them right before I got kidnapped into the desert.”
“We did not kidnap you,” Allie protests, and the mood in the room lightens a little bit more.
“Oh my goodness!” Sadie gasps. “I have so many treats for you, and I forgot to bring them out.” She returns from the kitchen with homemade soft pretzels, three dips, cookies, bread, and a dozen cupcakes. “I was really worried about you,” she explains.
Bea fills me in on the existing plan as we all indulge in Sadie’s little carb buffet. Betty rouses from her nap and works her way around the room to convince us to sneak her bites. She’s successful with everyone but Luke.
“How big of a deal is this blog?” Luke asks, shooting Allie a scolding look as Betty licks cheese dip from her fingers. “Do many people actually read it?”
“Unfortunately, she’s the most popular local voice,” Bea says. “Although, now I’m wondering how many of her recommendations are bullshit.”
“Probably most of them,” Allie answers. “She’s the reason I’m stuck with the damn cookie explosion.” The cookie explosion is a drink Allie had on her menu years ago, but it’s a pain in the ass to make, so she took it off. Nathalie included it in a round-up of things to eat in Palm Springs or something like that, so people never stopped ordering it.
She’s been complaining about it for years, which makes me wonder, “How long ago was that?”