All That Really Matters, Nicole Deese [best detective novels of all time .TXT] 📗

remote and tossed it at me. “Fine, we can watch your organizer lady if you really want to.”

“Ha! I knew you secretly liked that show.”

“Nope. But anything’s better than hearing you scrape the bottom of that ice cream carton.”

I threw my wet spoon at his chest.

14

Molly

Ethan

Good news. The paperwork for The Fit Glam Kit is set for you to sign.

Molly

Did you figure out what they want me to do at the shoot? To wear?

Ethan

Yes, they sent me the fine print details of everything that’s in the box. It’s their five-year anniversary box—all specialty summer must-haves. Perfect for you. Oh, and a bonus creation from Sophia Richards herself. She’s excited for you to reveal it.

Molly

Bonus creation?

Ethan

She’s a big fan of your work. Did you see she shared your post about date night looks? You’re up at least 5K followers.

Molly

Wow. That’s super nice of her!

Ethan

I only find you the best.

Molly

? Just send all those details to Val, okay? I’ll look them over tonight.

Oh, did you look at your schedule for that weekend?

Ethan

?

Molly

??????

Ethan

Is this a game? I give up.

Molly

? Our walk on the beach while eating ice cream and kissing on our sunset date!

Ethan

Sorry, babe. I couldn’t make it work this time.

Molly

. . .

Ethan

Mr. Greggorio needs me back in New York the next day. I’ll need to fly out after the shoot.

Molly

. . .

Okay.

FaceTime call.

Canceled FaceTime call.

Ethan

Why aren’t you answering?

Molly

I just arrived at mentor group.

Ethan

Didn’t you just do that? How many hours a week do they have you there?

I hope you’re not letting anybody guilt you into doing more than you have to.

Molly

I’m fine. Need to go.

Ethan

Call me later.

“Hi, Molly!” Clara waved me over to the group waiting under the pavilion outside. Though it was still a bit chilly to sit in the shade, there was something refreshing about being outdoors with the promise of summer in the air.

I heaved my giant beach bag over my shoulder and trotted across the grass. I hadn’t seen Glo or Silas today, but I’d briefly met Jerry, the house manager for the guys’ Bunkhouse. Turned out he was the Santa look-alike I’d seen on the brochure in the lobby and online.

“Hey, ladies,” I said, joining the group of women and smiling directly at Wren, who sat at the end of the bench seat. “How was everybody’s day?” I plopped my bag down on top of the table and noticed a not-so-subtle eye shift as I reached inside for one of the six goodie bags I’d assembled for each of the girls. I hadn’t embossed them yet, but I figured that could be a great project for later. Perhaps a fun team-building activity? “I have a little happy-start-of-summer gift for you all.”

Just as I’d hoped, the girls perked up. I recognized three of them immediately—the Front Row Populars from my class the other night. Their name tags read Felicia, Amy, and Jasmine. And the other two were the Snack Pantry Reward BFFs: Sasha and Monica.

“Oh, uh, Molly . . . before you hand those out, can we chat for just a minute?” Clara asked.

“Sure,” I said, before addressing the girls. “I’ll be right back. You’ll love the lip glosses in these bags—it’s my top pick for the summer, actually. Has an all-natural SPF with a hint of iridescent shimmer.”

A couple of them giggled while Wren’s expression matched the puzzled worry on Clara’s. Had I done something wrong? How was that even possible when I’d only been on campus for all of twenty seconds?

I rounded the picnic table and followed Clara to one of the large pine trees next to the pavilion shelter.

“Sorry, Molly. I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, really, but there’s a fairly strict policy about not giving the residents any material gifts. Silas usually has the volunteers sign something about it . . . but it’s understandable that you could have missed it tucked in with all the other paperwork.” Her face was so hopeful it was almost comical.

I thought back to the paperwork I signed several nights ago, briefly recalling an agreement regarding money and possessions. “Oh, right. I figured that was only about money or expensive items like jewelry or electronics,” I said. “I wouldn’t think it would apply to cute summertime gift bags?”

Clara couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable than if she’d told me a thorn was lodged in her big toe. “Well, yes, you’re right about that. We definitely can’t give money or jewelry, but we’re not supposed to give any kind of material items that can’t be shared with everyone. It can create tension and jealousy among the girls.”

“Jealousy?” The idea of a group of young adults being catty over tinted moisturizer felt more than a bit odd to me. “But they’re all over eighteen.”

“True, but age is often relative when it comes to kids who’ve grown up in trauma. Everything is filtered through a lens of fairness. It can seem like favoritism if only half the girls in the house receive a special gift. I’m sorry, I know your heart is totally in the right place with these bags, but I think it’s best we don’t hand them out today.”

This new realization left me dumbfounded. “So no gifts . . . unless I can provide them for all the girls who live on campus?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I’m guessing you don’t happen to have twelve goody bags with you?” Again, her optimism was endearing.

“Unfortunately, no.” I’d handpicked every last summery product I had from sponsors present and past to make these gift bags. “But I’ll be sure to bring another set next week. For Hannah’s group.” I glanced to the other girls’ group sitting inside the gazebo, eyeing Hannah’s third trimester belly and wondering if she was even going to make it to the end of August.

“I’m really sorry. It was super thoughtful of you.”

I touched her upper arm. “It’s totally fine. I just didn’t know before and now I do. It’s all good.” And if it wasn’t, I’d take it up with Silas.

“Thanks for being so understanding.” She nodded once