Page 92 of Clearly Charmed

I wandered to the bathroom and brushed my teeth for a good five minutes, hoping it would remove the feeling of ten little sweaters piled on top of my tongue.

The clank of pots and pans pulled me toward the kitchen. Lia stood at the stove, pushing around a massive batch of eggs in a frying pan. The waffle pattern from the blanket on my couch was imprinted on her right cheek.

Yeah, she’d also had a few too many. The last thing I remembered was her digging through my cabinets looking for a bottle opener, insisting she needed another glass of wine.

‘Morning,’ I said with a voice that sounded like I’d swallowed sandpaper.

‘Hey,’ she growled back.

‘Where’s Elena?’

‘She took off at four. Said she needed to get ready to open the coffee shop.’

I wobbled my way to the breakfast bar, the room still spinning. ‘Was she okay to drive?’

‘Yes. She stopped drinking after we drained the pitcher of mojitos.’

I climbed onto a stool, the smell of the eggs twisting my stomach.

‘You want to talk about what’s bothering you?’ She pointed the spatula at me. ‘And don’t say the article, because it’s more than that.’

‘What? You’re sensing my emotions now too?’ I was way too tired and hungover for this. I laid my hands on the cool marble, leaned in to press my cheek against it.

‘No, it’s just that you suck at hiding your emotions,’ she said, going back to stirring the eggs.

I was glad she was focusing on the pan. It was probably better that I didn’t look her in the eyes when I delivered the news.

‘The morning after I was with Bryce, I discovered something in his office.’ She stayed quiet, letting me finish what I needed to say. ‘There were photos of us in a folder next to his desk. Like he’d been surveilling us for a while.’

She continued to scrape at the pan. ‘He was basically stalking us? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘Yeah, I confronted him about it. He claimed a friend of his was originally assigned to the story and started looking into the town, into us, first. That the guy got a better assignment and gave the job to Bryce. Sent the photos along to help him. Bryce claims they got lost in the mail and only showed up last week.’

She tipped her chin to the folded envelope I’d placed on the counter last night. ‘Maybe you should look at that.’

I peeled my body off the stool, grabbed the worn yellow paper and unfolded it. Bryce’s name was scrawled across the front in thick black pen. The return address was a red stamp from Metropolitan Lifestyle Network. Written above the ink was the name Hank Jorgenson. The metered postage said July 18, followed by a succession of stamps after. July 29. August 12. August 29. Like it’d been ping-ponged through several post offices. I forced my eyes back to the address again. The zip code was off by two digits.

With shaky hands, I set the envelope on the edge of the counter. Lia scanned it, the corner of her mouth twitching. She grabbed a plate from the cabinet and slid a batch of eggs onto it. ‘Eat. You’re greener than the leaves on Clo’s precious watermelons.’

My stomach protested, but I said, ‘Hand me a fork.’

She yanked open a drawer next to the sink and handed me one. ‘As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think there’s much we can do now but let him write the article.’

‘What?’ I mumbled through a mouthful of eggs. ‘You’ve been the one fighting this the entire time!’

‘After my talk with the chief last night, I’ve been thinking. Aren’t you tired of fighting the whispers about us?’ The catch in her voice chilled me. ‘I’m exhausted, Dan, and I’m…’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve decided to put in my notice on Monday. I’m going to talk to Seth Cambridge about joining his team in Bozeman.’

Now I was sure the eggs were not going to stay in my stomach. ‘Lee, no.’

‘Maybe if we aren’t all in the same place the talk will die down.’

‘We’re stronger when we are together. You know that.’

She focused on the pan again. ‘When we were looking for Mara, Bryce watched our every move. How the three of us can be in sync. Read each other. There’s no doubt that he’s going to write about that moment.’

The words in his journal flashed across my mind, and I hated that she might be right.

She placed a trivet onto the counter and set the pan on top of it. After grabbing her own fork, she proceeded to eat straight from the pan.