Rhiannon yawned and adjusted her silk scarf. She’d barely been alert enough last night to trade out her clothes and wrap her hair before she fell into bed. “I got in last night.”
“I would have sent Gerald to get you from the airport had I known.”
Katrina didn’t offer to come get her herself, which neither surprised nor insulted Rhiannon. Katrina only left the sprawling mansion under very structured circumstances. “I took a car. Don’t worry about it. What are you making? Do you have enough in there to share?”
“You know I always make enough for five. Go on and set the table.” Katrina fussed at the stove while Rhiannon quickly set the small breakfast table with plates and spoons and forks and two glasses of fresh orange juice.
Katrina spooned creamy scrambled eggs and sliced avocados onto their plates. “Thanks.” Rhiannon’s stomach grumbled and she dug in as soon as Katrina sat down.
They ate quietly for a few minutes. Katrina could tell when Rhiannon was too hangry to be a good conversationalist.
Finally, Katrina broke the silence. “Why’d you come home before the conference ended?”
Because I was going crazy looking over my shoulder for Samson. One day of being skittish after the interview was enough.
Next time she tried to blow off some steam with a hookup—jeez, if she ever tried it again—she was going to find some nice boring accountant or truck driver. Someone clearly and explicitly far away from her industry. “Finished. I wasn’t needed at the conference anymore.”
Katrina pursed her lips, which called attention to the faint scar that ran down her cheek. Half Thai American and half white, Katrina had a unique and beautiful face, scars or not. “I thought you were going to stay for the weekend and sightsee. I haven’t been to Austin in ages, but I remember how much fun it was.”
“I don’t need to sightsee, and we can order perfectly fine barbecue from that place downtown.”
Katrina pointed her fork at her. “You haven’t been on vacation since I’ve known you, Rhi. That’s almost eleven years of nothing but work.”
Rhiannon took a sip of her juice. Had it been eleven years already? She supposed so. She and Katrina had met at a party when Katrina was barely twenty-two and Rhiannon was twenty-six, fresh off the success of selling her first start-up. Rhiannon didn’t make friends easily, but something about the other woman’s vulnerability had yanked her right in.
“And before you say you took time off after you left Swype, know that year doesn’t count.”
“I went to New York twice this past year.”
“Weddings also don’t count as vacations. I want you to get away from your job and your phone and Wi-Fi and relax.”
“No Wi-Fi? Um, that sounds like my personal hell.” Rhiannon placed avocado on a slice of toast and took a bite, the crunchy buttery fat and carb combination making her hum.
Katrina dabbed the corners of her mouth. “Sonya agrees that you need a vacation. We talked yesterday.”
Rhiannon groaned. That was what she got for not taking the time to spell out I love you. Her mother calling her friends.
“She said to tell her if you groaned when I told you she called.” Katrina’s eyes sparkled. “I love your mom.”
“I know.” Everyone loved Sonya.
“We had a lovely chat. Give her a ring when you can. She’s annoyed you only text her lately, never call.”
Rhiannon stabbed an avocado slice. “If I call, she’s going to want to talk my ear off about the engagement party.” Her little brother, Gabe, had announced his engagement, which meant Sonya was already preoccupied with a million wedding details, even though the couple had been engaged for a minute. Rhiannon had hoped she’d just be signing checks, but Sonya was determined to get her opinion on all sorts of things that Rhiannon had zero interest in. Like tablecloths. Why were there even options as to what you could put on your tables?
“You don’t know that.”
“Did she talk your ear off about the party and the wedding?”
Katrina looked away. “No comment.”
Rhiannon snorted and continued to eat. “I’ll call her. Later.”
Rhiannon’s father had died when she was young. Her single mother had been a housekeeper for one of the wealthiest families in the frigid midsized western New York town Rhiannon and Gabe had grown up in, and that meant they’d gotten some advantages other kids of housekeepers didn’t, like fancy private schools.
Being able to go to those places didn’t mean they’d fit in. Gabe had skated by a little less scarred, but