Because you’re such an important asshole, Sylvia thought.
Embry crossed her arms. “What were you doing in Nadine’s place?”
“Cleaning,” he said without conviction. The way his lips flapped reminded Sylvia of a weasel. How fitting.
She eyed the shopping bag. “Cleaning? Or stealing from your dead mother?”
“She left everything to me, so I can’t steal from myself.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a book. A yellow Post-it Note was stuck to the cover. “Here,” he said, passing it to Sylvia. “Mom must’ve wanted you to have this. I just found it.”
Touching the note with one finger, she traced the swirly handwriting. For Sylvia, with love. She lifted the note and read the title. It was Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou, the book Nadine had wanted them to read together. Her eyes stung with the foreign sensation of tears. Only Nadine could edge into Sylvia’s heart with such ease. “Thank you.” She tucked the book into her purse and steeled her emotions. “While I have you, I’d like to remind you about the broken stair. It’s lucky number seven.” Batting her lashes, she added, “Let’s not turn it into unlucky seven.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m on it.” He strode off, the bag sagging in his hand.
Sylvia sighed and exchanged a look with Riki and Embry. “He was only here to see what valuables he could get his hands on. It’s surprising he hasn’t been by sooner.”
Riki touched her shoulder. “I know. He’s a jerk, and Nadine was nothing but wonderful.”
“Yes. He was horrible to her,” Sylvia said, her voice flat.
They nodded quietly in agreement and said their goodbyes. Sylvia crossed to her apartment, trying to make sense of Jonathan’s visit. She hated men like him. At best, he was a self-important loser. As she climbed the stairs, careful to skip the seventh, she checked her watch. Only five minutes to prepare for her call with Hugh.
He’d better not mention Lily again. She wasn’t in the mood.
Sylvia curled onto the sofa, snuggling into the cushions as she sipped her rosé. It was such a trendy wine, marketed to elicit a Sunday-brunchy, breezy vibe. It’s pink and sparkly. Fun, fun, fun!
How easy it was to condition the mind. She actually felt pink and sparkly and carefree. Although knowing Hugh would call any minute also had her feeling giddy.
Part of the excitement was that he was different from the other men she had dated. Trustworthy. An odd trait for a man. For any human, really. It was strangely nice.
The phone trilled, and she grabbed for it. Adjusting her shirt so a hint of her bra peeked out, she touched the screen to accept the call. Hugh’s face popped into view. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” He moved his head from side to side, trying to see her better. “There you are! Man, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“It’s been so long, I was starting to wonder if you’d been struck down by mad cow disease,” she joked.
“Very funny. How’s the vegetarianism working out for you? Eating lots of rabbit food?”
She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Sadly, no. I should switch to that. I’ve had so much pasta this week, I’m probably going to gain ten pounds. But on the upside, I haven’t eaten any meat, so I won’t be going mad anytime soon.”
A laugh burst from his lips. “A relief, for sure. I wouldn’t want to see that happen.” He smiled. “I’ve missed you.”
As you should. “I’ve missed you too. How’s Arizona?”
“It’s hot. I—” A piercing cry sounded, and he froze.
“What on earth is that?” His phone went dark, and she wondered if it had fallen. “Hugh?”
He reappeared, looking flustered. “Sorry about that! I’m walking my friend’s baby, and he started to cry.”
“What? Whose baby?” She squinted at the phone, trying to get a better look.
“I ran into a college buddy at the meeting today. I had no clue he’s a rep for us out here. Anyway, he invited me for dinner,” he said breathlessly. “He ran back to get his phone and asked me to keep walking or else the baby would start to cry.” A sheepish smile emerged. “Guess that didn’t work out so well. But I found a pacifier, and he seems fine now. Right, champ?” he said in a sweet voice, clearly meant for the baby. He moved his phone down to reveal a stroller, but she couldn’t see a baby because the sunshade was down. Seconds later, he was back, holding the phone close to his face.