She left her phone out in the living room, and when she heard it ring, she called out to Tyler, “Don’t answer that. I’m off the clock.” She nearly tripped trying to tug her jeans on as fast as she could, so they could be gone before Cass and Beau showed up. She grabbed the first T-shirt she could find, a red, vintage Coca-Cola-logo tee. It was so faded and worn that she normally only wore it on laundry days. Maybe not the best choice, but she was in a hurry. “It’s Cass,” Tyler called back to her, his voice muffled by her closed bedroom door. “I’ll just see what he wants.” Shit, shit, shit, she thought. A moment later there was a knock on the door. “He wants to talk to you,” Tyler said. “Just crack the door and I’ll pass it through.” “No,” she said, backing away so her voice was coming from the bathroom doorway. “I’m in the bathroom. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Tell him that. Tomorrow.” She was probably talking too fast, but Tyler wouldn’t notice.
