Page 8 of The Trouble with Love and Ink
“But all of this is coming to light at a good time,” she continued. I didn’t like the overly cheery tone her voice had taken. “Because.” She took a deep breath. “I’m moving to Florida with Braxton.”
I gripped the railing, dizzied by Hailey’s words. “What?”
“I’m staying in Florida. Braxton has been speaking with the owner of the venue he DJ’d at. This wedding was a test of sorts, and he passed with flying colors. They want to hire him full-time. He’ll be working exclusively for the venue instead of having to find individual clients. It’s a huge step for his career. And he wants me to move in with him. I really like it here.”
“Everyone likes Florida, Hailey. That’s why you visit. You don’t live there permanently. Have you ever watched the news? It almost always starts with ‘Florida man . . .’”
“Emily—” I could hear the eye-roll in her tone.
“You were supposed to be just visiting.”
Something like panic gripped my chest. I was already losing Anna. I couldn’t lose Hailey, too. Her boyfriend of two whole months couldn’t just steal her away from me. I wanted to reach through the phone and yank her back home. And the worst part about it—I’d been the reason Hailey had gone to Florida with Braxton, the reason they’d started dating. If work hadn’t stopped me from going on my trip, we would have had a great time visiting Florida, not setting down roots.
“I know, Emily, but I like it here. I love it,” she amended. “The water here is blue—you can see all the way to the bottom like a swimming pool.” My mind immediately drew up the brown waters of the gulf we grew up swimming in, muddied by river sediment. “And it’s more than that. I can picture my life with Braxton here.”
I was losing my footing in this argument. She’d already made up her mind, but I decided to throw one more punch. “You don’t even know him! You just met. He could sell whale organs or make wigs out of pubes for a living—”
She laughed. “He’s a DJ!”
“But that could just be a front. You wouldn’t know because you just met him. Seriously, Hailey. I don’t like this. Going on a fling vacation is one thing. Moving to a different state with someone—who probably doesn’t even know your middle name—is crazy. I’m just going to say it. This is crazy, even for you.”
An icy silence fell on the other end. I swallowed. But her retaliation came out quiet, calm. “Well, I would rather take risks than live like you. Hating life because you are too scared of change.”
That comment stung even more than her secret calligraphy career. “That’s not true.”
“Emily, please. You won’t even look for a different job, and you hate it there.”
“So what? Everyone hates their job.”
“No, they don’t. But even if they did, you are like that even with your relationships.”
I scoffed.
“Just look at your last boyfriend, Chad?” I rolled my eyes. Of course, she just had to bring up Chad. “He’d been hanging out with his best friend—” I didn’t have to see her to know she used air quotes. “—Mia, the whole time. You tried so hard to make it seem fine until you found them fucking on his couch.”
“Yeah. I was cheated on. Way to victim blame.”
“I’m not! I’m just saying that you tend to try and force things to work when there is obviously a problem. So, excuse me for passing on your relationship advice. I have to go. Braxton is taking me to his favorite bakery.”
“Hailey, wait.”
“I just wish you could be happy for me,” she said before hanging up.
I looked at the disconnected phone, resisting the urge to lob it down the stairwell. Judging by the jumble of thoughts in my head and the tight feeling in my chest, a breakdown was impending. But I took some steadying breaths, gripping the rails until my palms ached. I didn’t want to cry at work, and more importantly, I didn’t have the time. The tears would have to wait. I allowed myself one long shuddering exhale before heading back into the building. But before I could, the door to the stairwell swung open, and I had to back up to keep from being hit.
“Oh, sorry,” Beck said, realizing he’d nearly smacked me with the door. “Anna said she saw you go this w—” He stopped. His brows furrowed into what looked like concern. “Are you okay?” His voice rumbled so deep, so quiet, I could have imagined it.
I might not have allowed myself to shed a tear, but he was probably asking because my traitorous eyes were red-rimmed. And knowing my pale complexion, the argument had more than likely left red blotches on my chest. Why was it that I couldn’t act normal around him?
“I’m fine,” I said way too quickly to be believable.
He looked at me, obviously skeptical. For someone with sharp brows, he had soft—almost sleepy—eyes, and they searched mine. It was like he expected to read what had happened in my irises.
“You were looking for me?” I asked.
My tone came out harsher than I’d intended. Yeah, he’d been a jerk yesterday, but I’d planned to be civil with him. At this point, though, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time—just a casualty in the falling out with my sister.
“Uh—yes. I need your notes to compile them for the meeting minutes.”
