Page 17

“Great, that’s what I’ll tell her when I pitch it to her.” He’s basically talking to himself now, working through a plan on how to present this idea to Mia in a way that shows we’re more authentic in our request than wanting to offer her help she’d never asked for. “Hopefully she won’t look at it like it’s a handout.”

“Because that’s not what it is. We need her and maybe she needs out of Charlotte. It’s just friends looking out for one another.”

He groans. “I hope she sees it that way. Maybe I should have Josie pitch it to her.”

“No,” I protest. “She’ll see it the way we want her to. Besides, you’re a good friend, Bryce.” I hear him scoff in the background. “I’m serious, dude. You’re the type of friend who’s always looking out for his friends. Standing up for them, opening a club with them, finding ways to get them out of shitty situations. It’s who you are.”

“Mia and I are not friends,” he argues. “She hates me.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” If Mia hates him, I’m not sure he’d be house hunting with her best friend right now. “I’m serious. I need to take a nap and you have a phone call to make. Let me know what she says?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll text you. Get some sleep, dude.”

We wrap the conversation up from there and I stand from the couch, my stiff and sore muscles protesting at the movement. My bed is calling my name.

I grab my drink off the coffee table and head into my room, checking Katrina’s message as I go. She sent me a quick video of Josie beating the shit out of a wall with a sledgehammer, the message simple: Everyone should fear her.

I laugh, wondering if Bryce has seen this video. I quickly type out a reply, confirming she’s right before making sure my alarm is set and plugging my phone in. I don’t pull the blinds shut, too exhausted for the extra ten steps. Instead, I just pull my T-shirt over my head, drop it on the floor, and face plant into my bed. Sleep instantly overtakes me.

January2024

When I enter the lobby from the indoor pool, I find Josie sitting cross-legged on a chair at the desk in the lobby, laptop open and resting in its rightful place—her lap. As I approach, she looks up and smiles at me before removing an earbud. I can hear music pumping from it, the volume probably turned up to drown out some of the work going on outside. “Hey, Kat.”

“Hey,” I greet, glancing down at the copy of Liam’s design in my hand. “Have you seen Bryce?”

“He’s up in his office.” She points to the door with a scowl. “I was up there, too, but he kicked me out. Apparently, singing Taylor Swift under your breath doesn’t help your boyfriend focus on writing a business plan.”

I grin as she playfully rolls her eyes, but I’m already heading toward the stairs. “Do you want me to yell at him for banishing you to the dungeons?”

She nods firmly. “It’s what any good friend would do.”

I laugh, shaking my head as I push through the doors. She and I both know I won’t do it, though. While Josie and I have gotten close over the last few weeks, hanging out together at least a few times a week and even having a girl’s night at my rental when Bryce had to go to Georgia to help Carter with something, Bryce and I are practically strangers. We’ve never crossed the line of professionalism that blurred with Carter and Josie. He’s here to remodel a pool and I’m here to execute his vision. There’s nothing more to it than that.

As I approach the office, I notice his door is barely propped open despite the sound of muffled machinery. I rap a knuckle against the splintered wood. He glances up. “Hey, do you have a second? I have a question.”

The look he gives me is wary, but he still nods. I step into the small room that somehow feels smaller now that there’s only an old metal desk in it, Bryce, and myself. I set the papers down on the desk, pointing to the problem area I spotted. “What’s this?”

His brow arches. “The plans for the remodel,” he deadpans. “The ones Liam drew up and Carter and I signed off on. I’d think you’d want to ask me a real question, Katrina.”

I want to roll my eyes at his sass, but somehow refrain, and dig my finger into the paper with more force. “These are the plans for the main pool.” He finally looks to where I’m pointing. “Are you seriously telling me you don’t see any issues with them?”

He shakes his head and says, “No. Nothing has changed on those.”

“Bryce, you have seating taking up one entire wall.” The wall is covered in basic stadium style plastic seats and there’s no room for anything else on that side. “They’re taking up valuable space. Not everyone will want to sit here. You need room for some tables and chairs.”

He balks at that. “This isn’t the type of pool you lounge by, Katrina. Patio seating isn’t practical. How many times do I have to tell you this?”

“What about parents who are watching their kids during lessons or practice?” I can tell I’m pushing his buttons, but I’m not convinced he’s thinking past his own daydream. He needs to be realistic. “Do you think they’ll want to sit on hard plastic chairs all the time?”

“I’m not building this place for the parents,” he shoots back. “Anyone who has ever gone to a swim meet knows comfortable seating is not happening. It’s part of the charm of the sport.”

I bring my hands to my hips, ready to stand my ground like I would with any person under my command I work with. “Now you sound ridiculous. Why are you sacrificing comfort?”

Bryce glares right back at me. “There is plenty of space on that side of the pool,” he points to the opposite side, “for the athletes to relax and be comfortable. That’s what matters to me. Why can’t you just listen to me? I know what this place needs. I’ve spent my whole life in pools like this.”

“Just because something has been one way for all your life doesn’t make it the only right way,” I challenge. “Nor does it prohibit you from making changes.”

He releases an exasperated sigh. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was under the impression that Liam was the design lead on this project, not you. Why are you trying to change something you have no part in? It’s been approved, Katrina.”