“Everything is fine.” Julie sighed. “I was just lonely and thought I’d give you a call.”
Zara sat up. “Are you sure you’re all right?” They’d been friends for nearly eight years, although they’d lost touch for a while. She didn’t have many friends, and Julie was somebody she actually trusted. “You can stay here, you know?” She didn’t like the dive motel Julie was shacked up in.
“Jay will look there, and you know it.”
“I know. Well, maybe.” Zara pushed hair away from her avocado mask. Julie was hiding out in a motel until her divorce from her dickhead of a husband became final. Zara tried to keep her voice gentle without the anger. Julie had faced enough anger from her ex and needed support. “I get paid next week and can help you out some more.”
“I hate that. You shouldn’t have to loan your money to me.” Julie’s voice wavered. “I will pay you back.”
Zara batted away tears for her hurting friend. “I know. As soon as you get your settlement, you’ll be rolling in it.” She forced humor into her voice. “Well, if you pass your competency hearing next week.”
“Can you believe that? Talk about dirty pool,” Julie growled, finally sounding angry and not defeated.
“I know. Your husband is an ass.” That he’d convinced a judge that Julie needed a competency evaluation before the divorce could go through was unthinkable. Of course, it was Zara’s law firm that was coaching Jay, which made the entire situation even worse. “It’ll be okay.”
“How’s your face?” Julie whispered, her voice cracking.
“I’m fine. Next time teach me not to get in between you and Jay the asshole when you’re fighting.” Zara almost touched the bruise across her cheekbone but remembered about the avocado. “The bruise is almost gone.”
“I’m so sorry,” Julie said, choking up. “I don’t think he meant to hit you.”
Zara shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest.” Jay had found Julie at another dive motel when Zara had been visiting, and he’d rushed her. Zara had moved between them and taken the hit. “Either way, I wish I could turn him in.” But if she did that, she’d get fired for helping the opposition, and she needed her job.
“Once the divorce is final, we’ll egg his house.”
Zara laughed, her spirits rebounding. “That would be fun. It’s a date.”
“All right. Enough about me. How’s it going with Hottie McHottiness?”
Zara lost the smile, and her shoulders slumped. “I think we’re almost over.”
Silence ticked for a few seconds. “I’m so sorry to hear that. You’ve been happier since you’ve been dating him.”
Zara shook her head. “We’re not dating. It’s casual, which is what we both wanted, but I think it’s getting a little odd, you know? We have to either go forward or stop, and neither one of us is willing to go forward.”
“Are you sure? He sounds like the total deal.”
Zara snorted. “Because he delivers multiple orgasms?”
“Hell yeah.”
She laughed again. “I don’t know a thing about him. He was here the other night, and he mentioned he had a brother. I didn’t even know that.” She plucked at a loose thread on the bedspread. If Ryker wanted something serious with her, he would’ve at least mentioned family.
“Oh. Maybe if you made the effort, he would, too? It’s time you stopped holding yourself back. Not all guys will leave like your dad did or die like your mom did.” Julie cleared her throat.
Zara breathed out, her mind spinning. “Maybe not, but Ryker’s a leaver.” No way would the tough private eye be a soccer dad or attend ballet recitals. Zara wanted kids and a stable home someday, and Ryker just didn’t fit in that picture. She couldn’t think about it any longer. “Anyway, let’s concentrate on you.”
“For now.” Rustling sounded. “All right, get some sleep. And Zara?”
“Yes?” Zara settled down into the pillows.
“I, ah, I could use that loan for a couple of bills when you get paid. I promise I’ll pay you back.”
Zara reached up and switched off the light, hurting for her proud friend. “Of course. Night.”
“Night.”
Zara turned over and set the phone on the nightstand. Poor Julie. Her husband had turned into a total prick who liked to hit. Why were so many men assholes? Her own father had disappeared when she was three, and she’d learned at eighteen that he’d died a few years after that in a tractor accident. Who the heck died in a tractor accident?
Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she dreamed about chocolate and rivers before the phone jerked her out of the nice sleep. “Julie?” she mumbled as she answered.
“Um, no,” a raspy male voice said. “This is Sal from Sal’s? On Sixth?”
She blinked and sat up. The dive bar on the other side of town? “Huh?”
“Sal’s Bar. Ryker lost this phone in the fight—”
“Fight?” She flipped on the light, her heart roaring to life. “Is he okay?”
Sal cleared his throat. “Define ‘okay.’”