I shook my head. “No.”
“Temporary is a non-existent word to certain kinds of men. The kind who find what they want at the same time find themselves in a position they have to protect it.”
Why did that make me super freaking happy?
And super freaking freaked.
“You’re the one,” she declared.
More super freaking happy and just . . .
Well.
Super freaking happy.
“Maybe not,” I replied.
God.
Why was I assuring her I might not be the one?
“Chaos has safe houses. If you weren’t the one, Rush would move you into one of those, and if he was still interested, come visit.”
“Oh,” I mumbled.
“How do you let go of your boy?” she asked abruptly.
“You don’t,” I answered instantly.
She stared at me.
“I mean, he adores you. He talks about you all the time. And his dad. His sister. His little brothers. He loves you guys.”
She said nothing.
Then again, she knew all that so there was nothing to say.
“And I’m out of that thing. The one with Valenzuela,” I assured her. “I was acting crazy. Thinking I was Superwoman. I just missed my friend and I was sad and mad and I’m tight with her parents, so I got it in my head I could do something good to wipe out the bad. But I get it now, that was the wrong thing to do. I just forgot to tell my AD.”
I remembered Rush’s question earlier and explained.
“My assistant director. So I had to call her and Benito had called me because I didn’t show on the set this morning, and I’m usually the first person there. And Rush and me thought it would be good to call him and see how he reacted considering we thought he might be behind the, uh . . . events of yesterday evening. He wasn’t, by the way. Or at least we think he wasn’t. So . . . well, we slept in late and with all the calls, and, um . . . such, I didn’t get the chance to take a shower and find a killer outfit.”
She again did not speak.
So I kept babbling.
“Though I gotta say, he said I’d be hanging while he had his meeting. He didn’t share I’d be hanging with you. I totally would have swiped on mascara and at least found a decent blouse if I knew I was going to meet his beloved Tyra.”
She had no reaction to my wording, but I still lifted a hand and went on quickly.
“And I don’t call you ‘his beloved Tyra’ to be snarky or blow sunshine or anything. You just are. I mean, beloved. By him. Rush. And now I met his dad after the, uh . . . not-so-fun events of last night, and you, in my Saliva shirt. They’re a rad band. But, you know, he could have warned me so I’d put on a flipping blouse.”
I decided to shut up.
She kept standing there in her awesome outfit, staring at me.
And for some reason, this made me keep blathering.
“I’m not tight with my folks. Not because I’m difficult or anything. I mean, I’ve blocked them on my phone so I won’t get any daughter-of-the-year awards.”
Oh God!
I needed to quit talking.
I kept talking.
“Just that . . . family stuff,” I decided to leave it at that. “And my brother, well, he’s unconventional, so his commitment ceremony is coming up and when it’s done . . . but it’s already kind of the way, they’ve all been together for years, but anyway . . . when it’s done, he’ll have two sets of in-laws and I kinda was looking forward to that. For me. Though just one set. When I found my guy. NotthatRushisthatguy.”
I said that last all together, I was talking so fast.
Then I kept doing it, just not as fast.
“I mean, I’m not sure he’s for real. He’s, like, the coolest guy I’ve ever met. He’s sweet. And he listens. And he gets me. And he’s super smart. And he . . . he . . .”
I could only think about how good he was in bed.
I cut my losses on that and continued freaking jabbering.
“But you know that. So, it’d be cool if he was that guy. But anyway, I was looking forward to that. Having in-laws. You know, having a family that’s cool rather than one that’s like mine, and that’s a long story. If you wanna hear it one day, I’ll share. It’s not a secret. But just to say, I’m glad Diesel has all of that. Diesel’s my brother, by the way. It’s really beautiful, what he has. But I’m jealous of him a bit too.”
I shut up again.
She didn’t say anything.
Again.
So my mouth kept running.
“So you know, if I’m that person for him, he won’t lose anybody. But I’d get some good folks. And that’d be sweet.”
I petered out and stood there, thanking God I had enough time to spray on some deodorant and do something about my sex hair.
Finally, she spoke.
“Your brother is going to have two sets of in-laws?”
“He’s, uh . . . bi,” I said quietly. “There’s three of them. Maddox and Molly and Diesel. They’re very much in love.” I shrugged, watching her closely, and finished, “It’s gorgeous really.”
“Does he look like you? Your brother?”
“No, he’s kinda big. Like,” I made a hulking gesture with my arms in front of me (Lord help me), “tall and huge and has light-brown hair. We kinda have the same eyes, though.”
“Where did you get your hair?”
“I don’t know. No one in my family has red hair. My dad’s a bigoted racist, so I’m kinda hoping I have another dad somewhere who voted for Obama, marched on Washington for gay marriage and has red hair.”
She burst out laughing and the tight ball that had formed in my stomach loosened.
Then she sat her ass in her tight skirt in her desk chair, asking, “Did Rush feed you?”
I shook my head. “We had a kinda busy morning, the hour of it we’d been awake before we got here.”
“Chill’s getting lunch. Did Rush order sandwiches for you?”
I shook my head.
“Right,” she muttered, reaching for her phone. “Go,” she waved across the office. “Get a donut. Pour yourself some coffee.”
Coffee.
Thank God.
“I’ll get Chill to get you a sandwich,” she declared. “What do you want?”
My stomach had not quite recovered from meeting the gorgeous, beloved, class-act stepmom and being shoved, with no warning, right on the spot (it seemed to be going okay now, I was still gonna kill Rush).
“A Reuben?” I asked like she knew what I liked.
“Excellent choice,” she said to me then in her phone that was now to her ear. “Chill. Hey there. Can you add two Reubens to the order? And a roast beef and swiss on sourdough, grilled. Three more bags of chips, a selection. Don’t let them forget the pickles. And three of their big cookies. Chocolate chip. Snickerdoodle. And oatmeal. Got that, darlin’?” She waited, nodded, and finished, “Good. Thanks, Chill.”
She hung up and looked up at me.
“Donut, coffee, Rebel, and sit down. We’ll chat later about your folks. I want to hear about this landlady of yours. Tack says she’s a stitch.”
I stood where I was.
Her eyes softened (a little) and she said quietly, “It’s okay, Rebel. Rush took us both by surprise. Men often think if they’re good with something, everyone is just going to toe that line. I had a moment. I’m over that moment. Get a donut and we’ll get to know each other.”
“You’ll never lose him, you know. If it’s me or anyone. He’d lose any woman who would even try to make him lose you.”
Her whole face softened (a lot) and she said quietly, “You give your love to a kid, every cell in your body becomes about hoping they’ll find someone to make them happy.”
“I’m kind of a lunatic,” I admitted.
“Then you’ll fit right in,” she replied. “Now, Rebel, get a donut.”
I looked across the way to a little table that had a coffeepot half full of coffee and a big pink box that had two donuts in it.
My stomach rumbled.
So I walked across Tyra Allen’s office to get a donut.
Rush
“Rush?” his father called him.
They’d shot their wad giving him shit.
Now they were killing time wondering if Boz was gardening and waiting for Chill to show with their sandwiches (he should have thought to text for one for him and Rebel, he’d send Chill out to deal with that when he showed) and generally just blowing off steam after all the shit they’d been hit with before they had to settle in and deal with more.
He looked to his old man.
“Where’s Rebel?” Tack asked when he got Rush’s attention.
“I left her in the office with Tyra.”
All conversation ceased.
“You what?” Shy asked, sounding tweaked.
Rush looked at Shy.
The man also looked tweaked.
“I dropped her in the office with Tyra before I came here,” Rush mostly repeated.
Tack kicked back his chair and booked toward the doors.
Rush knew that was not a good thing.
“Dad, what the fuck?” he called, swiveling his chair toward the doors.
His father stopped at them, turned to his son and stated, “You left two redheads alone together, neither of them knowing each other, one of them your stepmother, one of them the woman you moved in with you after a dead body was dumped outside her house.”
Shit.
What was he thinking?
“Holy fuck,” Brick muttered.