Page 47 of Sugar

A guy flirting with Wren wasn’t surprising. She had that effect on men. What was surprising was that she seemed oblivious to his attention.

And distracted.

I turned my back on them, letting the guy shoot his shot without the added audience since it seemed like it was going to be an air ball. Lowering my voice to a whisper, I asked Greer, “What’s going on with her?”

“We hung for a bit last night, and she was on her phone. Alot. She even smudged a few nails because she took her hand out from the light to snatch up her phone before they were dry.”

My brows shot up. Of the three of us, Wren was the least online. She definitely wouldn’t sacrifice her favorite—and kind of expensive—cat’s eye polish just to text. Not unless there was someone important on the receiving end.

“Hmm,” I murmured. “Seems someone is keeping secrets.”

“Says the person who’s being all tight-lipped about where you were last night. What was that pin drop about? What happened with your interview? Did it go weird? You shouldn’t be meeting people alone.”

“But that’s my only shot at getting my ownDatelinespecial. I want the whole hour, not a five-minute featurette.” At her exasperated sigh—and the fact there were only so many secrets a girl was capable of holding in—I told her, “The interview was for an alumni highlight on Easton Wells.”

“My dad’s lawyer?”

“Yes, that Easton Wells. But also, no because he didn’t end up taking your dad as a client.”

She shrugged. “He never tells me anything.”

That always surprised me. My dad roped my mom and me into helping, and I knew for a fact I was more of a hindrance than anything else. Meanwhile, Greer had a love of all things business and order, yet Doug always brushed off her offers to help.

I assumed it was to keep the peace, but it still seemed like a waste. Her control freak habits were a small price to pay when she could do so much good. I knew that from experience.

I wouldn’t have graduated high school on time had it not been for the type-A study schedule she’d made me.

“How’d you end up with him?” she asked.

I ended up with him in a kink club, and I can’t stop thinking about either one.

I forced those thoughts away. “Long story.”

“What’s a long story?” Wren turned away from the guy and missed his crestfallen reaction.

“Mads interviewed the hot lawyer last night,” Greer filled in.

A naughty smirk curved Wren’s lips, and the guy went from half in love to full-on. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“For the paper. Just as I said.”

Before they could harass me any further, a buzzer cut in. The guy loaded his clothes into a basket before smiling at Wren. “So?—”

“It was great meeting you. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” she said.

The dejected expression was back, but he didn’t lash out or try to force more conversation. “Right. See you around.”

Gotta appreciate a guy who can handle rejection like a man and not a whiny, little bitch boy.

And isn’t that sad?

Wren hurried to get her clothes going just as two machines at opposite ends of the room freed up.

Once we gathered back together, Wren eyed the time on her phone. Then the washer. Then her phone again.

I skewered her with a look. “What’s the rush, Wrench? Got a hot…”

Oh.