Sonya expected the same restless, patchy post–three a.m. sleep she’d experienced the night before, but she dropped off in seconds.
And woke to soft morning light.
Since she expected Cleo would sleep at least two more hours, she went to make coffee. She’d squeeze in a little work, then they’d do a kind of brunch before they went on a hunt for what Cleo could use in her studio—and anywhere else she wanted.
The idea that her friend would live there gave her such a boost. And it didn’t hurt, really, to know she hadn’t imagined things, forgotten things.
Optimism ruled the day as she sat at her desk.
Even her tablet deciding to play “Come Saturday Morning” didn’t dim it.
Just after eleven, Cleo came in.
Her hair fell in perfect corkscrews. The lids on her long, amber eyes showed just a hint of bronze. She wore snug black jeans with an ombré sweater that went from the palest of lavender to the deepest purple.
“You’re all duded up.”
“Company’s coming. Male-type company.” She struck a pose. “First impressions are first. Plus, my best friend bought me this sweater because she knows what I like.
“Working?” she added. “I can get scarce.”
“I was working until you got up.” She checked the time. “They’re not coming until after three, so I’ve got time to put myself together.”
“I hate you can look like that before putting anything together. I’ve always hated you for that, but my love’s stronger.”
On cue, the music switched to Queen’s “You’re My Best Friend.”
Cleo laughed in delight. “You’ve got like a ghost DJ. You know that’s cool.”
“I’ll shut down, and we’ll go have a girl brunch.”
“Don’t shut down yet. Let me see what you’ve got for the potter. We didn’t get around to that last night.”
“I’m running tests. I’m going to have it up and running next week.”
“That’s fast.”
“Plenty of time to work here. First, here’s what she had.”
Cleo came around, looked over Sonya’s shoulder. “Okay, I like her work. The site’s not horrible.”
“Load times are, and it didn’t work worth shit on mobile devices. You saw the mood board there. And this is what I designed, she approved, and I’m testing.”
Cleo cackled, gave Sonya a light punch on the shoulder as the website came on-screen.
“Okay, baby, that sings. Classy but approachable. Arty but down-to-earth. Strong colors, more impact. Good call on the little video. Can you enlarge it?
“Yeah, yeah. She’s got a face—great bones—the hair shows them off. I may have to sketch that.”
Sonya clicked on the Shop tab.
“And I change like her work to love. Your new format really shows it off.”
“Xena’s new pot’s Anna’s work.”
“What?” Cleo walked over to the window. “How could I not have noticed her new outfit? Love it. And Xena looks happy with it.”
“She’s got some new buds coming in.”
“So I see.”
“Enough work. I’ve been up since eight, and I’m starved.”
“I want to eat in that major dining room.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. We’ll be completely bougie. You’ve got a big house, pal, let’s use it.”
“Boy, did I need you.”
“And we’ll talk about some terms.”
“Terms?” Sonya shut down. “You’re not paying rent, Cleo. I don’t pay rent so you don’t.”
“I get that. I do, and it’s appreciated. But I will contribute. I’ll do the grocery shopping—we’ll make weekly lists—and buy the food. I’m a better cook than you, which isn’t saying much about either of us, so I’ll handle dinner—let’s say five nights a week. Roughly.”
“We’ll work it out.”
“Yeah, we will.” Cleo grinned as they started downstairs. “It’s what we do.”
Chapter Thirteen
At Cleo’s insistence, Sonya “duded up” after brunch. It seemed wasteful, since she’d probably help move furniture, but at that point in time, if Cleo had asked her to do handsprings in the foyer, she’d have tried it.
So in rust-colored suede pants and a stone-gray turtleneck she guided Cleo through storage areas again.
“This desk.” Sonya had to maneuver her way back to it while Cleo cooed over a floor lamp shaped like a mermaid holding a crystal ball.