Page 100 of Positively Pricked

Chapter 33

Paisley was still glaring out the front window. For the third time, she grumbled, "It must be nice."

I was still dashing around the house, trying to get my things in order. In our driveway, a company limo was waiting. It was the same limo that had shuttled me from the office an hour earlier.

As for my company car, it was in the Bennington parking garage, where I'd be picking it up upon my return.

Whenever that would be.

Paisley said, "Why doyouget a limo? I mean, it's not likeyou'reanyone important."

She was right. I wasn't. But Zane had been adamant, andnotin a nice way. Of course, I knew why. He didn't trust me to make it to the airport on time, and I was dangerously close to proving him right.

In his usual charming way, he'd told me, "Seven o'clock. Be ready."

Or else.

He hadn't said it, but it was definitely implied.

I glanced at my watch and cringed. Already, it was five minutes to seven, and I still wasn't quite ready to go. I felt stressed and anxious for a whole host of reasons.

For one thing, the limo had been idling in the driveway forever, and no matter how many times the driver had assured me that waiting was part of his job, I felt guilty and awkward just the same.

And then, there was Paisley. I'd arrived home just after six o'clock to find her in the living room, looking not exactly civil, but not nearly as hostile as I'd been anticipating.

Turns out, Professor Lumberjack, or Fergus, or whatever I wanted to call him, had somehow managed to convince Paisley that the flowers had been for her all along. Supposedly, he was only bringing them tome, so I could give them toherwhen I arrived back home.

What a load of crap.

And yet, Paisley had gobbled it up like a hound in a van full of meatballs. She was still wearing the black dress – the one she'd borrowed from me without even asking.

From the window, she said, "Youdoknow, you could've saved me a lot of heartache if you'd just told me right away."

I was hardly listening as I scanned the living room, looking for the last item on my list. I asked, "Have you seen my phone charger?"

Paisley made a sound of annoyance. "Didn't you hear what I just said?"

Of course, I'd heard, but I didn't have time for this discussion – or for the other discussion that we'd need to have when I returned.

The lease on the house was up in just a couple of months, and I wasn't planning to renew. The way I saw it, I'd rather move to an entirely new place than suffer through another year with a deadbeat drama queen.

I said, "Sorry, but I'm in a hurry."

"Whatever," she muttered and returned her attention to the window. "I guess nobody cares that I spent the whole afternoon crying my eyes out."

I cared, but only because she'd used up all of my tissues, plus the last of the toilet paper.Again.

With growing desperation, I lifted the nearest sofa cushion and did a quick scan for the charger. All I saw were a few pennies and remnants of burnt popcorn.

Well, that was nice.

I lifted the other cushion, only to be disappointed again, unless I considered two nickels a marvelous find. I tossed the cushion back in place and frantically looked around, wondering where on Earth my charger could be.

Funny, I could've sworn I'd set it near the sofa. In fact, I was almost sure of it. My gaze drifted to Paisley, and I felt my jaw tighten.

She wouldn't.

Would she?