could not forget it, one-night-stand with Tate. Thirty days of still living in her parents' house, trying to keep her younger sister Kate from stealing her shoes. Thirty days of working her completely exhausted ass off trying to start her own business.
She'd spent the first week doing an excellent sloth impression. Sleeping in past ten every morning, watching the horror that was daytime television, and generally eating everything her mom put on the table. One excellent thing about being home: meals from scratch that were made by hands other than hers. At the beginning of the second week, she'd taken a long, hot shower and let her mind whirl feverishly.
She could do this. She was going to do this.
After putting together her business plan, Rachel decided to wait on applying for a business loan and take advantage of her rent-free living situation. She developed her advertising, started her website and Facebook page, and ordered some friggin fantastic business cards with the same gray and white chevron design she'd be using for all her branding. Her dad had really wanted her to rent a small suite in one of the office buildings he owned. And while the 'daughter discount' kicked major ass, she decided that it would be prudent to actually get a few clients first before doing that.
"Hello, earth to Rachel. Are you coming in?"
"Oh, yeah. Hang on, I have to gather my strength to pick up my purse."
Liz peered in at her. "Are you okay? You're not sick are you?"
"No," Rachel shook her head, but still didn't move. "Just really, really, really tired. If Casey picks the wrong movie to watch tonight, I think I may be out in about ten minutes."
"You fell asleep two weeks ago at my house too."
"Well yeah, you pick the most boring movies in the world. It's amazing I don't fall asleep every time it's at your place."
Rachel heaved herself up out of the car with an exaggerated groan, and then hefted her purse over to Liz, who swung it easily onto one slim shoulder.
"Emma is not boring, it's witty. You're just so shockingly uncultured. It's not my fault you don't appreciate a classic."
Rachel stepped back while Liz held the door open for her. "You could have least picked Clueless. Now that's a version of Emma I can get behind."
They helped themselves to the chips and dip that Casey had left ready for them, along with a hot pink post-it note explaining that she'd hunt them down if they didn't save some margaritas for her. Rachel picked up the note and stared at it, snorting a laugh at how Casey drew pictures of little margarita glasses around the edge.
"Where is she anyway? It's super weird that she's not here."
"I think she's meeting someone who's buying some of her shoes off of Craigslist."
Rachel dropped her chip full of dip back onto the table. "I'm sorry, what? Casey is selling her shoes? Casey Marie Steadman? Our best friend since seventh grade?"
Liz shrugged her shoulders. "I guess so. I didn't ask her about it because she sent me the text about it while I was at work. I couldn't reply because I was trying to finalize some stuff for the class I'm going to start in a few weeks."
"Her. Shoes. She's selling them?"
"Rachel," she said on a sigh. "I'm sure you can grill her when she gets here. Do you want a margarita while we wait?"
Rachel scrunched up her nose when she caught a whiff of the pitcher that Liz pulled from the fridge. "Ugh. No thanks. Doesn't really sound good to me tonight."
Liz quirked an eyebrow and poured herself the smallest glass of margarita in the history of the world. "Doesn't sound good? And you're sure you're not sick?"
"Eh, maybe I am coming down with something."
"Well, if you don't feel better in a few days, promise me you'll go see a doctor." Liz's blue eyes were serious, and it made Rachel smile a little.
"I promise, Mom."
"Bite me. Now, show me those business cards you ordered. I want to put one up on the library community board."
They chatted for a few minutes before they heard Casey's Honda whip up the driveway, then the click clack of her heels across concrete. She walked in the door, face completely blank when she walked straight past Rachel and Liz. Rachel lifted her eyebrows at Liz, who shrugged. Casey plopped onto her couch and stared at the dark television screen.
"Are you high, Casey?" Rachel finally asked and Casey snapped to attention.
"Have