Rugged(79)

“So,” Flint says, looking back and forth between Thomas and me again. “What have you two got going on here?”

“Well, Laurel and I were having a wonderful time catching up,” Thomas says, winking at me. “But it got even better now that the gang’s all here.” He looks at Flint again, but Flint’s glowering at a cup of coffee.

“Wonderful time, huh? Sounds…wonderful.” Man, someone brought their A level brooding game. I don’t know if there’s any way to make him truly happy without Charlotte here to perk him up. That thought makes my stomach lurch.

“What about Callie?” I try to get the topic to someplace where Thomas and I don’t spend the whole meal making googly eyes at Flint while he hates on his French press. “She just showed up?”

“Out of nowhere.” He sighs, runs his hand through his (perfect, shining) hair. “I’m getting ready to fly back there and kick David’s ass for him.”

“He’s not doing anything terrible, right? Cheating, boozing?” Thomas asks, chin in hand. Flint snorts.

“If he were doing that, I wouldn’t be sitting here considering going to get him. No, he’s a decent guy.” Flint sighs. “But he’s not there as much as Callie needs him to be. I think they’re both too burned out, what with the twins and Callie staying at home and the mortgage. I wish there were something I could do to help them.” He grunts and shoves the coffee away. Bad, bad cup, offending him so. “But I can’t think of anything.”

Damn. Poor Callie. I hate seeing her like this, frazzled and despairing, boozing on an empty stomach on a Sunday while her children sit by and watch. I feel like I owe her something, dammit. Whatever problems and awkwardness Flint and I have had, this show and my career wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for her. I want to help her. But how?

And then I become brilliant.

“Hold on,” I say, feeling my brain light up, all sparkly and what not. “Maybe there’s something we can do. Thomas and me.” I grin at my very stylish friend. “Can you think of anything that screams romance?”

“With the inspiration at this table, how could I not?” He puts on his best ‘straight guy’ impression, adopting an impossibly deep voice. He winks at me again, wiggling his eyebrows at Flint, who doesn’t seem to notice. He’s scowling even deeper now. “Oh! I have it!” Thomas cries, reaching over and grabbing my arm. “Call me insane and wonderful, but what about this: the Peninsula, the Mandarin Garden suite, with a bucket of iced champagne and room service?”

“If you wanted to sweep me off my feet, you could have just said so,” I say, fake flirting and batting my eyelashes. We grab each other’s hands and laugh. Flint clears his throat. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, and is going all alpha male grumpy bear on the table. Even Thomas notices, fake-tugging at his collar in concern.

“Don’t you think it’d be a good idea?” I ask him. Honestly, you’d think we just suggested hogtying Callie and David together and throwing them off a cliff.

“The Peninsula is hard to get into?” he asks, looking at Thomas.

“Well, of course,” Thomas says. “You can’t just waltz in there, especially not if you’re trying to book a stay in the Mandarin Garden. That baby has a sauna, a hot tub, a staff of full-time massage therapists, and the toothpaste is made out of gold dust.”

“Then you probably can’t get them in,” Flint says, challenging.

“Au contraire, mon frenemy,” Thomas says, noting the cool way Flint is looking at him with amusement. “I work for only the ritziest people in the ritziest part of town. Getting two burned-out parents into the hottest resort hotel for a long weekend?” He snaps his fingers with a flourish. “Done.”

“What about the kids?” Flint mutters. “They going, too?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, rolling my eyes. “We can babysit them.”

Flint looks over at me, curiosity and interest in his eyes. “We? So we take care of them together?”

Oh God. We’d be practically alone all over again. Should have thought that through before you jumped right in there, mouth. Thanks for all your help.

“Well, I know all the sights to see around here,” I tell him with a shrug. Keep it neutral, Laurel. Don’t freak out and start dribbling orange juice down your blouse. “We could have a day of it, then drop the kids back off with Callie and David afterward. I’m sure the hotel has nanny services.”

Thomas scoffs. “Do they ever. Those children will be speaking fluent Mandarin and understanding quantum mechanics by the time they leave. Along with getting toddler massages.”

Flint grimaces. That sounds a little creepy to me too, so I think we’ll cancel the massages. But the rest sounds amazing.

“Settled,” I tell Flint, and squeeze Thomas’s shoulder. “You’re the greatest.”

“Only because you inspire me to be,” he says, his straight-guy flirting imitation hilarious. He kisses my hand, which sets me giggling.

Flint says nothing, probably still pining for Charlotte. I see him pick up his phone and start typing in his lap and can only assume he’s checking in with his lady love. Barf.

“What’d I miss?” Callie asks, wheeling the children back to the table. She sits down, looking even more tired than she did five minutes ago. “Don’t gossip without me.” She grabs Flint’s coffee and downs it in one gulp. I get up and push my chair back.