Well Played (Well Met #2)(25)

My phone first buzzed about fifteen minutes after we opened for the day. My heart leapt into my throat at the vibration against my hip, but it only buzzed once, so it was a text, not a phone call. If Dad was barely a phone call guy, he definitely wasn’t a texting guy. When the lobby was quiet I slipped my phone out of my pocket to see a picture of a Starbucks drink, something iced and so pale I wondered if there had ever been any coffee in there at all. It’s not pumpkin spice, the accompanying text said, but I told you I take a lot of cream.

The picture and its caption made me smile. You’re not kidding, I texted back. Did you just get a cup of milk with some ice in it? His response was a shrug emoji, and when nothing else was forthcoming, I put my phone away, turning my attention back to the mother and daughter who had come in for a yearly checkup.

My phone buzzed again about twenty minutes later. Another text. Another picture, this time of a pony dressed up as a unicorn. Meant to send you this over the weekend! I met this unicorn at the faire we’re currently working. He says he wants to come to Willow Creek soon.

I sucked in an excited breath, because while on the outside I was twenty-seven and mature as hell, on the inside I was still a nine-year-old who squealed at the sight of a unicorn. Simon would love that, I responded. Send me that unicorn’s digits and I’ll put him in touch with someone who can make that happen!


It’ll probably be people you’ll be dealing with, not the unicorn. Unicorns don’t have thumbs and have a hard time operating a smartphone.



Well, have his people contact my people, then. I grinned as I hit Send and put my phone away again.

The rest of the morning went like that—a text a couple times an hour from Dex, with a random thought or a meme he pulled off the internet. It hit me, after the fourth or fifth innocuous text, that not once did he ask if I’d heard from my dad or how my mom was doing. He was distracting me, just as he’d promised. He was also making me accustomed to the feel of my phone vibrating in my pocket, so by the time my dad finally called, a little before lunchtime, I didn’t jump out of my skin the way I would have if my phone had been silent all morning.

“She’s fine,” he said without preamble. “Indigestion, can you believe it?”

“Are you kidding?” Lindsay had already left for lunch, so I ducked into her office and left the door cracked so I could still keep an eye on the lobby. I’d already switched the phones over to the answering machine; it was only five minutes early, no one would notice.

“Your mother said the same thing,” he said. “But it’s true. She’s got a prescription for an antacid and we’re following up with an ear, nose, and throat guy later this week. It’s got nothing to do with her heart. She’s fine.”

It took a few frantic heartbeats for his words to sink in, and while they did, I’d taken a seat in one of the little chairs in front of Lindsay’s desk, my knees shaking too much to keep me upright. “She’s fine,” I echoed.

“Well, she’s cranky as hell and I’m taking her home for a nap. But otherwise, yes.”

I blew out a long, relieved breath, and my shoulders relaxed for the first time since he’d called that morning. “Thanks, Dad. Just . . . I was so . . .” My throat closed, and I had to cough hard before I could speak again. “It was just so much like last time. When—”

“I know.” His voice was as somber as mine. “I know, Princess. But she’s fine. It’s not like last time at all.”

“Okay.” A few more breaths, and I was breathing normally again. “How about I pick up something for dinner tonight? I can be home about six or so.”

“Oh, that would be great. Thanks, honey.”

I managed to keep it together until we hung up, then the leftover adrenaline coursed through me, making me shake and my breath turn into barely-there sobs. She was okay. Mom was okay. But my mind was full of memories of that first frantic trip to the hospital, finding Dad in the waiting room, seeing Mom hooked up to machines . . .

But that was then. This was now. And she was fine this time.

I pushed to my feet and nudged the office door the rest of the way open. Lunchtime, but I wasn’t sure if I could eat. My emotions had been on a roller coaster this morning, and my stomach felt jumpy from it all. But I got my purse out of its drawer and locked the front door behind me on the way out. Getting out of the office would be good for me, at the very least.

I took my phone out of my pocket and let my feet carry me blindly down the sidewalk to the deli. I had one more text to send.


All good with Mom. Thanks for keeping me company this morning. It helped more than you’ll ever know.



It didn’t take long for him to text back. I’m glad I could be there. Well, not THERE. But you know what I mean.

A smile flickered over my face. It had been a tough morning, but I’d smiled more than I’d expected to. And that was all thanks to the man I was texting. This was the next best thing. This would have been a tough day if I’d been all alone.


You’ll never be alone. Not if I have anything to say about it.



I wanted to hug the phone to my chest, but even I knew that would look a little weird. Instead I went to slide it into my bag when it chimed again. Wait. Did that sound stalkery? I promise I’m not a creep.

I snorted. You’re definitely not a creep. I’ll let it slide.