Page 105 of The High Tide Club
“Jaxson’s not an issue anymore, right?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure. He wants us to get back together. He’s been texting me, and I’ve seen him drive by the house a bunch of times at night. I think he’s checking up on me.”
Brooke knew better than to give unsolicited advice, but she couldn’t help herself. “Farrah, please listen to me. You’ve got such an incredible, bright future ahead of you. I hate to see you tether yourself to your hometown honey.”
“I didn’t say I was getting back with him.”
“But you’re thinking about it. And if he’s texting you, he’s going to come around begging you to take him back. And he’ll make you feel guilty about going off to school in Athens and leaving him behind. And the next thing you know, you’ll think about whathewants, instead of whatyouneed.”
Farrah’s phone dinged. She took it out of the pocket of her jeans, read the text, typed something rapidly, and pushed Send.
“Okay, I’m ready to get to work,” she announced, sitting at her desk and powering up her computer.
“Was that Jaxson?”
Farrah nodded but didn’t look up from the document she’d just opened.
“Did you tell him you didn’t want to get back together with him?” Brooke asked.
The girl still didn’t look up. “Brooke?”
“Yes?”
“Not another word.”
Brooke’s own cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID screen. It was Gabe Wynant.
She glanced at Farrah, picked up the phone, and headed for the powder room, which was, for her, the equivalent of a conference room. She closed the bathroom door, took a deep breath, and answered. “Hi, Gabe!”
***
“I know it’s last minute, but is there any way you could sit for Henry tonight?” she asked Farrah, trying desperately to sound casual.
“Sure. I could use the extra money. UGA ain’t cheap, ya know.” She flashed a big grin.
“Great. Why don’t you come over around 6:30? I’ll fix something for dinner for you and Henry, and you can give him a bath and get him ready for bed before I leave around 7:00.”
“That’s fine. But you’re going out on a weeknight?”
“Yes.”
“Business meeting?”
“Not exactly. More like an, uh, date.”
“Oh. My. God!” Farrah spun around on her chair so that she was facing Brooke. “Finally. Who’s the guy?”
“Just a lawyer I used to work with in Savannah. An old friend, that’s all.”
“Suuuuure.”
“Farrah?”
“Yeah?”
“Not another word.”
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