Page 117 of Booked on You
“Pack your laptop, your recorder, whatever else you need,” Millie says. “You can write in peace at the beach. Meanwhile, I’ll stay here and entertain these jerks outside.” Her smile turns mischievous. “They’ll wish they’d never shown up here.”
“We were in the middle of breakfast,” I tell her. “We’ll go as soon as we finish eating.”
“Perfect,” she says as Willow rubs against her ankles. Millie picks her up and sits on the couch, flicking on the TV. “Eat. Pack. Leave.”
Laughter escapes me. I move closer to her and place a kiss on the top of her head. “Love you, Millie.”
“Love you, too, sweetie.”
The two of us move back to the kitchen, and we eat our avocado toast, eggs, and bacon in silence.
Eventually, Scarlett clears her throat. “What is our plan?”
I shrug. “No plan. We’re going with the flow.”
After we finish eating, Millie joins us in the kitchen. Before I can wash the dishes, she’s shooing us both away.
“Go pack,” I tell Scarlett, slapping her on the butt as she walks away.
“You too,” she says back to me.
Before I move toward the bedroom, gratitude floods through me. “Thanks again, Millie. Seriously.”
Millie waves me off as she pours herself a mug of coffee. “Anytime, honey. Now, hurry up. You’ve got an escape to make.”
I take the steps to the second floor, two at a time. In the back of my closet is a small duffel, and I toss clothes inside without much thought. T-shirts, jeans, shorts, and a couple of sweatshirts. I pack a phone charger and snatch my wallet off the nightstand.
By the time I make it downstairs, Millie’s settled on the couch with Willow.
“Think you have enough clothes?” she asks, raising an eyebrow as she sees my hastily packed bag.
“Don’t plan on wearing many clothes,” I say, and she shakes her head at me.
“At least pack sunscreen. I refuse to take the blame when you come back lookin’ red as a lobster.”
I’m reminded of the many summers I spent at her beach house and got so sunburned my mom cussed her out. “I’ll be careful. Promise.”
Scarlett enters through the back door. On her shoulders is a full backpack. Her eyes dart around, checking off mental lists. “Laptop, recorder, notebook, chargers…I think I got everything.”
“Guess you don’t plan on wearing many clothes, either?” Millie asks with a smirk.
Her cheeks heat.
“We should get going,” I tell her.
Millie stands, giving us both hugs. “Now, just promise me you’ll both relax.”
“I’ll try my best,” Scarlett says.
I gesture to the back door. “Come on, before anyone spots us.”
We slip out and stop at the back gate. I see Millie’s car parked on the street, and lots of people on the sidewalks, surrounding the place.
I stop in front of Scarlett. “Are you ready?”
“Are there photographers on the other side?”
“Yes.” I reach for her hand and grab it. “Run for it.”
