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Things We Do in the Dark(122)

Author:Jennifer Hillier

“And you’re lucky that I didn’t know you still had one of these lying around, or else I would have brought all my old mixtapes.” He points to Jimmy’s old Sony stereo. “You know I have songs on those tapes that aren’t available on iTunes, that I haven’t heard in two decades? I might have to go on eBay and find myself an old boombox.”

Even after nineteen years, he’s still so … Drew. It feels exactly right for him to be here, to cover her with a blanket, to make himself at home. She doesn’t know where they go from here, but in this moment, she’s never been more certain about one thing: she wants her best friend back.

His phone pings, and he grimaces when he reads the message. “Shit. I forgot to check into the hotel last night, and they just canceled my reservation. And now the hotel is fully booked. Any recommendations? I thought I’d stick around for a couple of days.”

For me? she wonders, but she doesn’t dare say it out loud.

“I have a bunch of recommendations, but I’m not giving them to you.” She pours herself a cup of coffee. “You can stay here.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Drew hesitates. “Don’t you think that might, I don’t know, raise some eyebrows?”

“Since I married Jimmy, my entire existence has been one big raised eyebrow,” she says dryly. “I have two perfectly good unused guest bedrooms upstairs, and you already know the food and the pool here are better than at any hotel. Just stay, okay? It’s…” She pauses. “It’s nice having you here.”

They make eye contact. Paris looks away first.

“All right, you’re stuck with me for a while longer.” Drew rubs his face. “I could use a shower and a shave, and of course a razor is the one thing I forgot to pack. Any chance you have one I can borrow? Otherwise, I can run back out.”

“I have a Venus disposable I can lend you.” Paris snorts when he makes a face. “Kidding. I’m pretty sure there’s a pack of Gillettes upstairs. I’ll find them for you.”

The doorbell rings. They exchange a look.

“Want me to hide?” Drew asks.

While he says it in a joking tone, they both know it’s a legitimate question. A houseguest so soon? And a man, to boot? There’ll be questions. And judgment.

“No,” Paris says, sounding more decisive than she feels. “You’re my guest. You don’t have to hide from anything or anyone.”

The doorbell rings again, and then there’s a muffled knock, as if someone is using an elbow or a knee to bang on the door.

“You sure?” Drew says. “I can make myself scarce. Although my rental car is parked in the driveway.”

“I’m a free woman now, and you’re my friend. I don’t owe anybody an explanation.” Paris pads toward the front door, and Drew follows. “Although, there’s no reason to give specifics if anyone asks how you and I know each other. Let’s just keep it vague.”

She unlocks the door. Zoe is standing on the porch, her hands full. She’s got her laptop bag over one shoulder and a large cardboard box from the post office in her arms. Piled on top of the box are several unopened packages she must have also picked up. The box is more of Jimmy’s fan mail, of course, a reminder that Paris is going to have to deal with Ruby, and soon.

Not that Ruby would ever let her forget. By now her mother must be well aware that Paris is inheriting everything Jimmy left her, and she’s betting that Ruby will push even harder for her money now that the murder charge has been withdrawn.

Paris is a millionaire now. As is the frizzy-haired woman standing in front of her.

“Why didn’t you just let yourself in?” Paris reaches forward and takes the packages off the top of the box before they can slide off. “You still have your door code.”

“I didn’t want to assume it was okay to use it again,” the former assistant says, stepping inside. “And is that a rental car in the driveway? I saw an Avis sticker—” She stops when she sees Drew. “Oh. Hello.”

“Let me grab this for you.” Drew reaches out to take the box from Zoe’s hands, and then flashes her a charming smile. “I’m Drew. An old friend of J—” He coughs. “Of Paris’s.”

“I’m Zoe,” she says, appearing not to catch the near blunder. She gives him a once-over, and Paris stifles a smile at the slightly breathless tone in the other woman’s voice. “Great to meet you.”