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Darko—
I’m bent over an engine when my phone vibrates. I dig it out of my hip pocket and put it to my ear, barely glancing at the screen.
“Yeah?”
“Well, that was a failure,” Kate says.
“The spa? How so?” I frown, straightening.
“She wanted nothing to do with it. She refused to even go through the damn door. Then I took her shopping, thinking I’d treat her to a pretty new dress.”
“Did she get one?” I’d like to see Lizzie in a dress, one that hugs her fucking body like a glove, or maybe with a flirty little flounce that swings around her hips when she walks. I scrub a hand over my face, trying to eliminate the taunting image from my mind.
“Nope. She had absolutely no interest in them. Instead, she looked at black t-shirts with skulls and safety pins.”
“Christ. Do you think that’s because of the MC?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“So, how’s it going?”
“I gave up and took her for margaritas and tacos. How is she?”
“What do you mean? She hasn’t returned yet.”
“What?”
The front door opens.
“Wait, maybe that’s her.” I twist to watch Lizzie stalk through the garage and into her office without even looking up. When she shuts her door, I hiss through the phone. “Kate, what the hell did you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“You dyed her hair?”
“No… I dropped her off straight after the restaurant. She said she wanted to walk the rest of the way.”
“When was that?”
“Like two hours ago. What do you mean she dyed her hair?”
“Her hair is pink on the ends.”
“She got her tips dyed?”
“I guess. I don’t know what the fuck it’s called.”
“She must have done that after I dropped her off.”
“So, now what?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you have any other ideas, because I think we made it worse.”
“I don’t know, Darko.”
I drag a hand through my hair and pace. “Does she read, knit, refinish furniture?”
“She used to cook.”
“Cooking, huh? Is she any good?”
“She’s really good.”
“And that’s something she enjoys doing. It’s not a chore for her?”
“She used to enjoy it. These days, up is down with her, if you know what I mean.”
“You get a chance to talk to her about the foreclosure notice?”
“Yes. It’s so sad. She won’t take any help.”
“Her mother-in-law was over when I saw it, but I got the feeling she didn’t know about it. What about her parents? Could they help her?”
“Her mother lives in a small townhouse, and both of our fathers moved out when she and I were little. It’s one of the things we bonded over. As far as her mom goes, I get the feeling there’s not much money. I’m going to see if Utah will agree to her moving in with us, but she’s so proud. I don’t think she’ll accept.”
“Wait on that for a few days. I may have a plan.”
“What kind of plan?”
“Let me see if it works first. This cooking thing may solve the problem in more ways than one.”
“I don’t get it. How?”
“Just leave it to me.”