Wordle #932 - STONY
I take a beat to go over everything Bree has told me. It’s not like Roy to just up and leave, but he can be impulsive sometimes.
“Did you try calling him?”
“Of course, I called him! Like a million times.” Bree has stopped crying but her face is still blotchy with emotion. “All of my calls went straight to voicemail, and he never called me back.”
Okay, that’s definitely not like Roy. Mr. Take-Action can’t stand a ball in his court. He might just be the only person on the planet to have achieved Inbox Zero.
“Is it possible that he had a work trip and he was just reminding you he wouldn’t be home?” I ask this delicately, knowing that Bree might take it as a dig at her notorious absentmindedness. “Maybe he’s traveling and forgot his charger or something.”
Like Roy would ever forget anything. Bree, on the other hand…
“No, he’s not on a work trip. I think I’d remember that,” Bree says with a look so stony it would make Medusa proud.
I recall the time when I organized a girls’ weekend in Vegas for my fortieth birthday—just the two of us. Bree missed the flight, put the wrong dates on her calendar. I drank who knows how many frozen margaritas out of a souvenir cup the size of a human femur and never left the blackjack tables.
Not that I’m still salty about it.
“Bree, I think we should talk this over in person. Maybe tomorrow—"
“Tomorrow?! Can’t you come over today? I’ll go crazy if I have to wait.” Bree puts on her best puppy dog eyes. “Please?”
I don’t have any more client appointments today, and I just wrapped up my only open case, besides. A glance out my apartment window tells me the evening rush hour is off to an early start, but I suppose I could make it across the Bay.
“Yeah, okay. I still need your new address…”
“Oh my gosh, you’re the best, Cece!” Bree effuses. I grimace. “I got some of those coconut macaroons you like, from Tartine.”
And just like that, all is forgiven. Again.
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