“I wish I could stay. I’m having so much fun getting to know him. We’ve been texting all week. Did you know his father used to be some hotshot movie director? And his mother is some kind of royalty from Europe. Weston’s a royal.”
“Huh. Never would’ve guessed. He’s so sweet and modest.”
“Exactly.” She releases a happy sigh. “And I have to go back and paint some farm animal mural.”
“How long is it going to take you to paint?”
Daphne pouts. “I don’t know. A few weeks at least.”
“He could always come visit you.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not even going to suggest that. We’re just having fun, going with the flow, enjoying each other’s company. Whatever happens, happens.”
I check the time on my phone and slide it into my pocket. “Okay, I have to check on Rue and wipe down the kitchen one last time.”
“Good job, sister. Make that granite shine like the top of the Chrysler building.” Daphne winks, spritzing on perfume and giving herself another once-over.
“You look beautiful,” I say. “As always.”
She swats me away. “Hey, what are you doing tonight?”
Leaning against the doorframe, I pause and glance through my bedroom door and out the open window that seems to frame my view of Zane’s house perfectly.
“Has he apologized yet?” she asks.
A few nights ago we went out for dinner and caught the newest Nicholas Sparks movie, and on the way home, when she finished gushing about Weston, I filled her in on Zane.
“Nope,” I say. “It’s okay. I don’t even want an apology.”
“Then what do you want?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Kind of want to be less sensitive. I’m starting to think I’m the problem here.”
“You’re not the problem, Delilah. The things he said were offensive and rude. And you had every right to get upset.”
I lift my gaze into hers, hanging onto her every validating word. “You really think so?”
“Yeah.” Her brows scrunch. “But I also think you should keep hooking up with him because it’s just sex. Who cares if he’s a noble gentleman or a scandalous rogue outside the bedroom. You’re not dating him. You’re not going to marry him. Just have fun.”
“But I can’t have fun when he’s constantly running that mouth of his. That man needs to think before he speaks.”
“Then keep his mouth busy . . .” Daphne chuckles. “Someday when you’re seventy-five, I want you to look back on that summer vacation you spent in Florida hooking up with a ridiculously attractive professional football player. Do you know how many women would kill to be in your shoes? And you’ve been moping around all week like it’s some kind of burden. I mean, honestly, Delilah.”
Groaning, I lift my hand to my temple. “I just don’t understand why everything has to be complicated. Kind of sucks all the fun out of it.”
Daphne’s mouth inches up in the corners as she steps toward me. Her hand cups my shoulder and she leans in.
“The complication is the fun,” she says. “Embrace the complication. Have fun with it. Learn from it. Love it. It’s the best part. Truly. We’re young. We’re not supposed to have all the answers, and you sure as heck won’t find them in one of your textbooks. Life is messy. And you’re never going to learn a damn thing if you don’t get your hands dirty once in a while.”
She saunters past me, heels clicking on the wood floor in the hallway as she disappears around the corner.
Shuffling down the hall to Aunt Rue’s room, I catch her zipping her suitcase.
“That was fast,” I say. “All packed?”
“Everything but my toiletry bag.” She scurries to the en suite and throws a bunch of things into a zippered pouch. They click and clack as she drops them in. “Toothbrush . . . glasses . . . hand cream . . .”
I check the time one more time. “We have to be out of here in forty-five.”
She lifts a finger, mumbling to herself.
“I have a good feeling about this one,” I say. We’ve had five showings this week and one offer, which Rue turned down without so much as a counter. It was so low it literally insulted her.
“You and me both.” She zips her cosmetics pouch and brushes past me. Aunt Rue is driving to Palm Beach to shop for her fancy new condo. The plan was for me to accompany her, but Taylor decided to throw an open house tomorrow and she wants me here to help him set up and to help give personalized tours since I know the house better than anyone. “What are you and Daphne doing tonight? Oh. I left some money on the counter for her Uber tomorrow. Which reminds me, I need to tell her goodbye before I leave.”
“Might want to hurry. She’s on her way out the door. Hot date.”
Rue’s mouth hangs for a split second and she makes a beeline for the hall, calling out my sister’s name. When she returns, she scans her room.
“I always feel like I’m forgetting something.” She lifts a finger to her mouth, eyes scrunched. “Oh, well. I don’t have time to try and remember anyway. Care to help me with my bags, sweetheart?”
I grab her luggage and wheel it to the garage as she rambles on and on about these hot listings her Palm Beach agent found. She seems excited, much to my relief.
Loading her bag in the trunk, she places her hand on mine. “What are you going to do tonight, Delilah?”