I didn’t know what to make of that.
Reaching for my phone again, I opened her messages. “Can I belong to someone?”
I didn’t know if she would ever let herself belong to me. Most frustratingly, I didn’t know of any technology that would help me solve this problem.
I’d have to do it myself.
Chapter Fifteen
Bea
Iwasinovermy head. That was nothing new, but the difference this time? I wasn’t alone, flailing to bail myself out.
Today, I had an assistant. Things were under control.
Sort of.
Scarlet was a fast learner, but she asked a ton of questions. When she wasn’t asking questions about work, she was not so subtly prying about my personal life. It was cute. Almost. Mostly, it was distracting.
“What kind of event are you going to again?” she asked.
I leaned over her to check the shape of her prosciutto roses. She had a knack for making them in a snap. And since they were nearly better than mine, she was permanently on rose duty.
“It’s a charity luncheon.”
I’d been hired to make charcuterie cups and a dessert table for the event. Scarlet and I were assembling the cups, which was a massive help, since I normally did this all on my own. When I arrived at the space later, I only had to do the dessert table, and that wasn’t a big deal.
Scarlet reached for another piece of prosciutto. “Yeah, but what charity?”
“I don’t remember, honestly.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What if it’s a killing-puppies charity?”
I put my hands on my hips. “First of all, I’m wondering if I should be concerned your mind went to such a dark place. Second, I always do a search on the organization or company before I accept a gig. It’s just, once I agree to the job, I don’t retain the information. I have too many other things going on.”
“Have you ever turned anyone down?”
“Sure, a few times. But my headshot is on my website. Most of the organizations I would have moral objections to wouldn’t bother trying to hire a woman with blue hair and a nose piercing.” I winked at her. “It keeps the riffraff away.”
She glanced up at the silky black strand escaping her ponytail. “Should I go blue too? Keeping the riffraff away sounds good.”
“Sorry, but blue hair tends to have the opposite effect on teenage boys. I’m almost thirty, and I still get hit on by guys with dirtstaches.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Oh mygod, I hate their little mustaches. Why don’t they shave them? They look so stupid.”
I laughed. “I don’t try to understand teenage boys. It’s probably better not to.”
A big fist knocked a familiar rhythm on my front door. Scarlet jumped, surprised by the sudden sound, but I knew who it was.
Ben burst in like he owned the place, and I tried to remember why I’d given him a key.
“Beatrice,” he called. “I’m bored.”
“In the kitchen, troublemaker,” I hollered back.
Scarlet frowned. “Who’s that? Your boyfriend?”
“Oh, god no,” I replied.
