Before I could go through the motions of Midwestern protocol, thanking him, refusing him, making him insist, then finally accepting, Zion took my hand. “Don’t even try to say no. It’s settled.”
He might have just been looking for a way to rescue Jo, but I was so grateful. I tugged his hand so I could bring him in for a hug. “Thank you, Zion. You’re a lifesaver.”
Jo looked over with a curious eyebrow lift, and I filled her in. “Looks like you’re losing your house guests a little early.”
As soon as dinner was over, Ash and I walked back to Jo’s to gather our stuff up, once again. Zion went on home ahead of us to make sure the apartment was presentable, and I prayed this was my last big move so I could finally unpack.
We called for an Uber, and as we waited on the front stoop, I thanked Jo profusely for her hospitality and friendship. She insisted I was welcome anytime. She shook Ash’s hand and bid her farewell. “Well, it’s been nice meeting you. How long are you in the city?”
“I’m not sure. A few days I should think. Possibly into next week.”
Even though Jo seemed exhausted by Ash, she gave her a hug and said, “I hope you’ll be in town when Micah gets back. I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”
Ash must have read that as potential for a future encounter. “I would love that.”
It astounded me that Jo could be so gracious, though I understood why she had to be. I’d seen what happened when a musician or anyone associated with a band disrespected a fan. It was blood on the walls for days, weeks, years—sometimes forever. Jo probably knew better than to be rude to Ash when their time together was ticking down with the seconds.
When Jo leaned in to hug me goodbye, I said, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
She squeezed extra hard. “It happens. Not your fault.”
It was a relief not to be painted by the same brush as Ash, though I’d shown enough clues that I was in the same family of art supplies. Jo took me at face value.
I had no requirement to treat Ash with such polite good humor, and the minute we climbed into the Uber, I let it all out.
“What the fuck, Ash? Did you lose your mind?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You just spent the entire dinner grilling Jo like you were a reporter. Or a crazed fan girl.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m not ashamed of being a fan. I had no idea you were such a snob.”
“What are you up to, Ash?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you set out to use me to meet Adam? Do you really think you can use Jo as your next steppingstone? After all, that’s probably what you think I did, huh? Make friends with Jo so I could end up on the inside?”
“Didn’t you?”
“No!” This argument was making me think of my fight with Shane. “I didn’t intend to. I didn’t invite myself out to dinner with Jo. I didn’t invite myself along to stay at her place. It just happened.”
“Neither did I, Layla. You invited me.” That was technically true, but she’d given me little choice apart from being rude.
“You never had any interest in meeting me, but then I met Adam. Isn’t that right? You flew out here on some make-believe family emergency so you could climb over me and get to Adam. Admit it.”
She leaned against the car door, glaring at me, sucking on her teeth, and I thought I had her. She’d have to confess. “My brother’s having a baby.”
That wasn’t what I expected her to say. “Your brother’s having a baby?”
“Well, no. My sister-in-law is. Obviously. She went into labor yesterday, and we thought she’d have the baby by now, but the doctors put her on some drug—Turbo Lean or something like that—and it stopped the labor. They did some tests and want to evaluate her for a few days. If everything’s okay, they’ll induce her.”
My eye twitched.
It sounded like a convenient excuse. It still didn’t add up to me. “Why didn’t you just stay with them?”
She exhaled a growl of irritation. “First of all, my sister-in-law hates me. Apart from that, she’s on bed rest. My brother doesn’t want anyone stressing her out. I was only supposed to be here a few days.”
“Where do they live?”
“In Williamsburg. You might know that if you ever spent time on the