THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,131

best kind of change there is.

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He just asked me for your clothing sizes and what time Gretchen gets off work, Morganna’s text message reads. I roll my eyes and look to the sky. A few seconds pass.

Ping. Another text from her. I told him.

Of course she told him. Maverick only talks to me about our friendship. He talks to my friends about everything else. I haven’t told him about my decision to sever the pseudo relationship with Nash, but something leads me to believe he probably knows. He knows everything. I haven’t Googled, but I think it’s a SEAL thing.

I send Morg a message. If you’re just going to tell me everything anyway, just tell him to ask me.

You unappreciative stodge. Be that way. Stay in the dark. Did you open it yet?

I giggle. I wonder if she has Phillipe texting for her as per usual. He’s rolling his eyes at word choice. No I didn’t open the envelope. I told you. I’m not going to. If you want to give me details so badly tell me why he needs my sizes. P.S. I’m here.

She responds, Didn’t tell me.

I push open the front door to her house and lock it behind me. She never leaves the doors open unless she’s expecting someone. The large foyer is devoid of all clutter, the marble floor immaculate. The only sign a woman lives here is a pair of sky-high heels off to the side. They were obviously kicked off upon entry. I slide off my own heels and head for her office.

“Hey Windsor. Morganna is in her room.” Phillipe’s light voice echoes in this fortress of a house. I make small talk with him for a few minutes. It’s obvious he’s been staying here constantly. His bare feet and lounge pants speak volumes.

I turn and head for the stairs when he takes a personal call on his cell. I wonder how his boyfriend feels about his boss’s needy status. My feet squish into the plush hallway carpet as I approach the huge French doors at the end.

I take a deep breath and push into the room. Morganna is sitting in the middle of her California King sized, four-poster bed. The dark wood envelops, hiding her. I set the bag of take-out on a table. “Is this monstrosity really needed?” I swing around one of the posts and land on the bed next to her.

“Stone liked it,” she says, petting the blankets around her. She has on a pair of black boy shorts and a ratty college t-shirt. Her face is completely bare. She’s stripped of Morganna Sterns. Now, she’s just a woman who lost her husband. The sadness in her eyes diminishes when she falls back to lie on the bed. “Plus I can sleep sideways, upside down, or regular,” she explains. Honestly, it just looks lonely.

“Your room is a mess,” I admit, glancing around at clothes, bottles of water, and makeup shit everywhere. It truly is wince worthy. This is the new Morganna—the one that was born of Stone’s death. I’m still getting used to it. To the rest of the world she’s the same bull nose. Which is how she wants it. She shrugs. I pick up a drawing sitting next to her on the bed. It’s Stone’s lobster tattoo. She takes it from me.

“I’m trying to get all of his tattoos drawn by the artists. You know…so I don’t forget.” I think she wouldn’t mind forgetting this one, but I nod and give her a small smile. My chest tightens. How do you remember and let go at the same time? Is it some precarious method of blocking certain things and grasping onto others? How do you choose? I’d want everything.

“Maverick is trying to get you back, Win. By now you’ve realized that. Before he died…Stone told me you were the one that would give Maverick a life. He’s only ever had things. A great career, all the material possessions a guy could ask for, he’s good at things, but he’s never had what you give him. Stone believed that people’s lives intertwine for reasons out of our control. I always told him that was nonsense, just as Mav did, but can’t you see that it’s not? It’s real. I know he hurt you. I know Stone’s death turned him into a different person, but you have to let the person he used to be speak for him now. That’s the fair thing to do,” she says staring at the