Page 6 of Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail

She wanted to rip the goddamn thing in half. She couldn’t believe she’d pulled it again. Each time she did, she was shocked anew, angry, and, honestly, terrified. The Tarot wasn’t meant to be predictive. The practice was about insight, knowing yourself. The cards guided you to a deeper understanding of what you wanted, what you were going through, what you needed. So it wasn’t like she took the card to mean her soul mate was right around the corner.

How could she?

Her soul mate was long gone.

She didn’t know what this card meant, honestly. Not for her. It could indicate friendship, a deep need inside of her to connect with...someone.Anyone.

But she’d already proven, time and time again, andagainthis morning, she wasn’t the greatest at that.

She took a shuddering breath and slipped the Two of Cups back into the deck. As she placed the silk pouch in her bag, her phone buzzed loudly in the cupholder. She picked it up, the screen revealing a text from her brother.

Where the hell are you?

She’d just started to type when another message came through.

Hello?

And another.

Jordie.

And again.

Are you okay? Seriously, this isn’t funny. You’ve been gone for over an hour.

She rolled her eyes and called him.

“I’m fine,” she said before he could even finish his panicked greeting. “You can stop lambasting me via text message now.”

“Hey, as your older brother—”

“Oh yes, those three and a half minutes you spent as an only child really infused you with unsurpassed wisdom.”

“—I’m entitled to check up on you and make sure you’re not lost or severely maimed or—”

“Setting things on fire and driving what’s left of my sorry life into the ground?”

“I was also going to add ensuring your cat hadn’t eaten your face.”

She gasped in faux shock. “Catra would never.”

“Cats are nature’s perfect predator. If you cracked your head on the bathtub and she had no one to feed her, she would totally eat your face after a few days.”

“Can we stop talking about how my cat is going to turn into a murdering psychopath?”

“I’m just saying, if I’m going to have to deal with filming this show our grandmother locked us into alone, I’d like to be prepared.”

Jordan sighed. She still couldn’t believe they were going to be onInnside America.One of HGTV’s most popular shows, it featured Natasha Rojas, a woman who’d built her career on bespoke interior design, created and edited a very chic design magazine calledOrchid, and spent much of her time traveling around the country to oversee the renovations for historic inns. The team was always local—especially the designer—and Natasha was famous for her extremely direct feedback, not to mention her flawless style.

If she was being completely honest, Jordan was a bit intimidated. She hadn’t exactly been doing stellar work lately, and Natasha Rojas would expect nothing but perfection. Still, the show’s interest in the inn finally pushed her grandmother to renovate, something Jordan and the whole family knew needed to happen, like, twenty years ago.

“It’ll be interesting,” Jordan said.

“Yeah. To say the least.” Simon huffed a laugh. “Seriously, though. You okay?”

“Yes,” she said, because it was the right answer for her overprotective brother, if not a completely truthful one.

“Okay,” he said, relief clear in his voice. “Okay, good. Take a sip of that coffee, it’ll help.”