Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
After a final ruffle of his fur, she sets him down on the floor.
A smile tugs at my lips—this woman hosts dance parties with her dog late at night. What is it like to have that kind of…spirit? And to continue to move like that? She sashays back over to the counter, still swaying to some kind of song.
I really should stop watching my new decorator. But I don’t.
She returns to her counter, grabs her phone, and then comes back into view. She taps it and speaks into it again.
A second later, my phone buzzes.
I jerk back like I’ve just got caught. Like she can see me watching her from all the way across the yard.
I stretch for my phone on the stand, checking the screen.
Skylar Haven is texting. Shit. Can she see me? After drying my fingers on the towel, I slide open the phone while rehearsing excuses—Hey, is that an owl in your tree? Or, What exactly is the roof of that catio made of because it sure looks sturdy?
Skylar: Hi, Ford! Just wanted to check in and make sure it’s okay that I mention your parents’ home on my design podcast. I won’t name you or your parents, but I’d love to talk about the general themes and looks.
Ah, okay. That’s easy enough to answer, though my pulse is still jackhammering as I settle back into the water, keeping the phone above it.
Ford: Works for me.
There. She’ll never suspect I was watching her if I keep my reply curt.
Skylar: Thank you! And we’ll be meeting at Twice Loved, a consignment shop in Noe Valley, on Friday at eleven? Did your mom like the picture of the chair I sent you?
Skylar mentioned that shop when I followed up with her earlier today. Since she’s seen the house already, she suggested meeting at the store that’s holding the Eames chair. Mom’s initial reaction to the photo was, If that feels as good as it looks, I will divorce your father and marry that piece of furniture. But my mother is notably capricious, so I play it safe and tap out another succinct reply.
Ford: Yep.
Skylar: Cool! I’ll see you there then. I’ll be a few minutes early, so buzz me if you arrive early too.
I frown. That’s a little unusual.
Ford: Are you planning to run away with the Eames chair before I get there?
Skylar: Not unless it fits on the bus. And that’s why I’ll be early, by the way. I catch the bus.
Wait. She’s taking the bus? That makes no sense since she lives right next door.
Ford: I can drive you. We’re leaving from the same place.
But that’s presumptuous. She might have another meeting. I tap out another note.
Ford: But you might be coming from someplace else.
Skylar: I love carpools! I can be back here, neighbor.
She adds a winking smiley face.
Neighbor? That’s casual. Familiar. But does that wink mean she saw me watching her? My stomach twists. I lean over again, watching as she texts and wanders around her kitchen. But she’s not staring out the window, so maybe she doesn’t know.
Ford: Sounds like a plan. Meet you out front of our homes at ten-forty then.
There. That sounds all businesslike. As it fucking should.
Skylar: This is so much better than the bus. Well, presuming you don’t watch clips of Michael Scott at top volume on your phone like the guy next to me on the bus did yesterday. I mean, I love The Office, but I don’t want to hear random outtakes. Also, you don’t clip your nails while you drive, right? That happened to me last week.
I cringe.
Ford: The bus driver?
Skylar: Oh no! Just a passenger. I don’t even know how a driver would do that. Do you?
Wow. She’s hard to keep up with, but I’m ready for the task.
Ford: Using autopilot.
Skylar: Do you have autopilot on your car?
Ford: Yes, but I don’t clip my nails. Or watch TV.
Skylar: In general, you don’t watch TV?
I roll my eyes, but I’m laughing.
Ford: When I drive, Skylar. I don’t watch TV when I drive.
Skylar: But you do watch it?
She wants to tease me. I take the bait. It’s making the hot tub even more enjoyable, after all.
Ford: What do you think?
She paces her kitchen, then turns to the window. I tense—but only for a second. Turns out she’s staring at the sky—not next door, just the sky—before returning to her phone.
Skylar: I bet you watch how-to-make-a-kale-smoothie videos. I bet you look up ‘how to train your dog to shake.’ I bet you watch tutorials on how to fix a dishwasher if it breaks.
I stare at the phone, then across the yard, then back at my screen. Fuck. She’s scarily good.
Ford: I like The Office too.
And I should say goodnight, but I don’t. Curiosity has me in a chokehold. Also, I need to know if I’m right.