“It’s just good!” Chrissy argues.
“I went to this awesome coffee shop in New York,” I say.
Cammy groans so loudly. “If I have to hear about New York or Harmon one more time today—”
“What are you talking about?” I ask as I pull out of the parking lot.
“You haven’t stopped!”
“I hardly said anything.”
“Cass, I heard about the show three different times. The alcohol you drank. The model you met. The chocolate cake.The crazy guy trying to sell someone’s ashes on the corner. Now you’re talking about coffee?”
I scoff. “It was an exciting weekend, Cam. If you’d gone to New York, you’d be talking about it too.”
She looks into the back at Chrissy. “I don’t think it was New York. Pretty sure it was justHarmon.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I turn left onto the main road and try to pay attention to where we’re going even though I’m distracted by whatever the hell Cammy is trying to get at.
“It means you can’t stop talking about him.”
“I’m with him all the time. It’s literally my job.”
“Uh huh…job.”
“Cam, what the hell?”
“Hey,” she says, holding up her hands. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with you liking him, but—”
“As a boss,” I say.
“I’ve had the same boss for two years and I never talk about the guy.”
“Because he smells like cheese and dirty sneakers,” I add. “Oh, and guess what? I know that becauseyoutold me.”
“Yeah? What else can you tell me about my boss?” she asks, crossing her arms and looking at me. I see Chrissy with excited eyes watching us in the rearview mirror like this is the best bit of gossip she’s ever heard. Sad because she’s in high school and there’s drama every day.
“His name is Lance. He’s not married but has three kids. He doesn’t work on the weekends. He, uh… He’s… uh—”
“Uh huh,” she says, as if she’s won something. Then she starts rambling, counting off on her fingers as she goes. “Harmon is forty-six. He’s the CEO of Stone Timeworks. His favorite color is blue, and he has this tie that matchesyoureyes perfectly, and he was wearing it the first night you met him. He doesn’t have any family. His father was an asshole. They’re from Texas. He gave you a fancy watch that came out of some secret vault in his office. His favorite breakfast food is pancakes. He works out regularly. His personal assistant’s name is Oliver. He has a private jet. He—”
“Okay! I get the point.”
“Do you? Because I don’t think you do.”
I don’t say anything. But Chrissy does.
“I think you like him.”
“What do you know?” I snap back.
“Just that you talk about him all the time.”
“I do not.”
“You do!” they both shout in unison.
I pull into the coffee shop parking lot and get out of the car. I don’t wait for them. I go inside and stand in line.