It’s been forever! Can I tell you about an amazing weight loss shake?
I always muted the conversations straightaway, knowing a multi-level marketing pitch when I saw one.
But Karen’s approach was different. It was organic. Natural.
Or so I thought.
I’d run into her at the grocery store — hadn’t seen her in four years, not since high school — and here she was with a designer handbag and ombre hair and coffin nails, her cart filled with fresh produce and kombucha. I’d been rocking leggings — the same black ones I’d slept in the night before — a messy bun, and my own cart was full of Hot Pockets.
She’d given me a hug. “Oh my God, Georgie! It’s been years!”
“Yeah, since grad night. We had too much to drink and went skinny dipping down at Clement’s Lake.” Why did I mention that? Why do I even remember that?
Well, I know why. I was too scared to call my brother that night. So I called the one person I knew would always be there for me.
Grady came and picked me up, promising to never tell my brother that the cops had been called.
Karen had laughed at the skinny dipping memory. The kind of laugh that had men turning to see who on God’s green earth made such a magical sound. She was like a unicorn, honestly. Gorgeous and put together — a gem. “You were voted most likely to succeed in high school,” Karen said, unknowingly making a dig. “I can’t believe we lost touch!”
“You went to college in New York, right?” I said, chewing my bottom lip.
She nodded. “Yeah, just moved back.” Her Apple Watch kept beeping at her and finally she groaned. “I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to run. We’ll catch up, okay?”
I watched her dash toward self-checkout in her lululemon yoga pants with her barre class ass, scanning her heirloom tomatoes with a flourish. My stomach grumbled. Suddenly my cart of food seemed juvenile. I pushed it toward the fresh fruits and veggies and looked for something healthy to go along with my microwave meals.
My eyes landed on a mini watermelon and I picked it up, bringing it to my nose. Immediately thinking of Grady and his green apron and his garden supply shop. How every so often, he drops off baskets of produce at my apartment for Val and me, saying his garden is overflowing. How it’s doing him a favor if we take it off his hands.
Every time, I invite him in. Every time, he stays for a few minutes before making an excuse to leave. I always hope he will stay… though I’m terrified of what I’ll do if given too much alone time with him. Basically, I’d rip off his clothes and do more than spit out his watermelon seeds. I’d swallow.
Which is quite the fantasy for a virgin with literally zero experience.
My heart filled with longing, though, as I watched my old high school friend sashay from the store. Wishing for a put-together life like Karen had. Maybe if I was like her, a guy like Grady would say yes. He’d come into the apartment and I’d cut up that melon and offer him a slice. I’d toss his fruit salad and I’d sure as hell make sure he liked it.
This is what ran through my mind for the next twenty-four hours as I attempted to do my dead-end virtual assistant job from the comfort of my own bed.
So when Karen messaged me a day later, asking me to grab a drink and discuss what she’d been up to, I didn’t think it was a scheme to draw me into her illegal business.
I thought it was a chance to see how the other half did it. I thought I might learn a thing or two.
But it was a setup. And I ate it from the palm of her hand. Fell for it. For her. For the promise of the life she had.
Now I’m in trouble.
More trouble than grad night. And I’m scared the cops might get called again.
If they do, they won’t let me off the hook this time.
But some things never change. Because once again, it’s Grady I contact when I really need help.
Chapter Two
Grady
“You okay?” Major asks, taking another drink of his beer.
“I’m good, I just gotta go.”
“Really? Dude, you’re the one who dragged me out tonight.”
Hating that he’s right, I make a decision I might later regret. “How about I make it up to you?” I say, texting him