It Takes Heart by Marcelo Tif

Author:Marcelo, Tif
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Montlake
Published: 2021-08-09T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Brandon:

Tried to catch you today

Geneva:

Met up with Beatrice after work

She needed help

Brandon:

Can we talk?

Geneva:

Later?

As dots appeared on the screen, Geneva stuffed her phone in her back pocket.

If she didn’t see it, she wouldn’t have to answer it.

“What are you complaining about over there?” Beatrice walked into the sparse white room, carrying a box. “I hear those impatient deep breaths.”

“Work, what else,” Geneva lied, and looked up from the box she had temporarily set on the floor. She was on her knees, on a quick break to finally answer Brandon’s text. She’d kept him on read—she really needed to switch out her settings—most of the day, still unsure how to deal with him and their situation. In the span of a day, they’d changed the trajectory of their work and personal relationship. Not only did they have to contend with their kiss, but now they had to play a couple on the internet. It didn’t help that Beatrice didn’t hold back in laying on the guilt trip that Geneva was spending more time with Brandon than she had with her.

It had been an easy decision to escape Heart Resort to help with Beatrice at Beachy’s Nags Head office for a couple of hours before the Pusos’ Friday dinner.

“Can I help?” Beatrice asked.

Definitely not. “Nah. I’m avoiding a conversation because I’m not sure how to approach it.”

Beatrice winced. “Eeps, sounds sticky.”

“Like molasses.” She waved the topic away. “Honestly, I don’t want to think about it right now.”

“I’ve got a good solution to that.” Beatrice slung her arm across her chest to stretch it and gestured at the boxes littering her office floor. “You can put your energy toward all this.”

“I’d better be getting a bonus.” Geneva flipped the blade of her box cutter up and sliced one of the boxes open.

“The bonus of my ever-loyal friendship, duh.”

“Mm-hmm.” She rolled her eyes, but her faux sarcasm dissipated when she gazed at the contents of the box. “Ooooh, oranges and yellows. So pretty!” She took each plastic-wrapped item out of the bag and stacked them on the worktable. Then, after a quick look through the rest of the box, she popped the tops of the other boxes too. It was a feast for the eyes, of stripes and polka dots and paisleys in a rainbow of colors. “Are these all caftans?”

“Caftans and sarongs, and muumuus and maxi dresses,” Beatrice said in a most flirtatious voice. “Go ahead, open one in your size. You can change behind the wooden partition.”

“Are you sure?” Geneva felt like a kid in a candy store, sorting through the bright colors.

“Of course I’m sure. How else to sell clothing but word of mouth, especially from a comfort-dress aficionado like yourself?”

After finding a pin-striped orange-on-white linen caftan, Geneva popped behind the wooden partition. It was a temporary fitting-room setup, with a small bench and an umbrella tree, from which hung padded hangers, and a stand-alone full-length mirror.

Geneva took off her shorts and tank, slightly dusty from the day’s activity of hanging wallpaper and painting accent walls.

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