Page 80 of Under the Weatherman
“Analogy,” I corrected. “So you’re saying I need to stop trying to write my big breakout novel and just write for me?”
“You don’t need an MFA to write a book, E.” She glanced over my shoulder as a customer entered, then back to me. “I think writing for you is what dreaming is for the rest of us. Therapeutic. You need to be creating with that big brain of yours, or that muscle’s going to atrophy.”
Oh, God. “No pressure then.”
“You could kill off that manager lady.”
“You mean Lauren?” That idea was fire. “Yes, but how.”
“Stiletto through the heart?”
I moved to the side to let the customer place his order, tapping my fingertips together and musing about Lauren’s untimely demise until Chelsea was free again.
“What if the network of cables caught her shoe, and she tripped, her arms windmilling as she stumbled headfirst into the green screen, while camera two was live.”
Chelsea’s eyebrow dipped. “And she died of a head wound?”
“Oh no.” I scoffed. “The video would go viral, and the internet would use that green screen to put her epic fall into increasingly more ridiculous situations. And then she’d die of embarrassment.”
“I see. Kind of a disappointing final destination.”
“Karmic destination.”
“Or you know, you could’ve gotten your revenge by taking her job.”
God forbid. “Actually, the best punishment is to leave her in that role forever.”
“Just so you know you could’ve done it, if you’d wanted to.”
That was why Chelsea was my best friend. Always on my side, even when she had to spin a whopper of a lie. I sighed.
Another customer came in, so I futzed with the cute mugs for a minute, aware of the time.
When she was done taking the order, she said, “I was gonna ask if you’d want to double again Saturday night.”
I read between the lines. She’d agreed to a real date with Bas, and now she had cold feet and needed safety in numbers, but Saturday was the first night Evan and I were both not working, and I kind of hoped we could spend it together without it being under the pretext of keeping our friends together. Knowing Chelsea, Bas was living on borrowed time anyway. “I don’t think so.”
She shook her head. “I should get out of it, right?” That train was right on time. Poor Bas.
“Is that what you want?”
“The thing is,” Chelsea said, absently rearranging the tea bags in the basket. “My therapist is thrilled I’ve been giving Bas a chance.”
It had to be good she was looking for excusesnotto bail, so I added, “Me, too, for the record.”
“And I’m checking off so many things from the list.” She laughed. “I started taking an online Greek class.”
I cackled. “Start a new language:check.”
She pointed at me. “Yes! We’re definitely going to Europe.”
“Speaking of... Can you ask off for the first or second week of January? I’ll be starting the new job spring semester.”
“Oh, my God. That’s less than two months away. I’m getting so excited.”
“I’m just glad I’ll have you all to myself for a full week.”
Normally, she’d lay out her intentions to find a foreign man to distract her, but today, she said, “Yeah. Let’s go somewhere we can really explore.”
