ThisTimeNextDoor Read Free

Show it off, baby.”
    Rolling her eyes at the red tights, Blair said, “Don’t change the subject.”
    “Blair, it was no big deal. Years of telling off my anorexic grandmother has made me invincible.”
    Blair snorted. “You’re not as tough as you seem.”
    “I am about this.” She patted Blair on the shoulder. “Really. I’m fine.”
    “Yeah? Why’d you suddenly need to go to CVS? Which made you late to meet me?”
    “Tampons.”
    In a flash, Blair snatched the bag away, pulled it open. “Just what I thought. You always go for manicure therapy when you’re upset.”
    “I was missing my mother, that’s all. I was talking to her on the phone and got homesick.”
    Blair’s triumphant smile faded. “That’s my fault. You being here.”
    “No moping. Let’s go upstairs and get your eyebrows sculpted.”
    “Right. As if that’s my top budget priority right now.”
    “Come on.” Rose reclaimed her bag, tucked it under her arm. “It’s twenty bucks. You’ve got gorgeous eyebrows. Dark, arched, dramatic—give them a little love.”
    “You can. I’ll watch.”
    “There’s no point doing mine. They’re invisible. I could shave them off and nobody would notice the difference.”
    Blair licked her lips. “I shouldn’t. What if I have to raise this baby alone? I’ll need every penny I’ve got and I don’t even have a job. Who’s going to hire a pregnant English major?”
    “They aren’t hiring English majors who aren’t pregnant, so there’s no point dwelling on that. Besides, maybe they’ll be afraid of looking like they’re violating your rights and hire you because of it. Not that you look pregnant.”
    “I’m totally poofing out. Look at his.” Blair put her hands on her hips and arched her back. “I can barely button my jeans.”
    Rose glanced at her concave abdomen. “Must be twins.”
    “Shut up.”
    “I should give you that phone number at Fite Fitness. I hear they’re looking for a plus-size fit model.”
    Blair shoved her in the arm, biting back a smile. “All right. I won’t do eyebrows, but we can check out the dresses. Something stretchy and cheap.”
    “Just like your roommate sophomore year. What was her name, the gymnast?”
    With a laugh, Blair took off for the elevator. “Come on, let’s do it. If just to get you to shut up.”
    “Dream on,” Rose said.
    * * *
    “Damn, Mark,” Jared’s voice said in his ear, “I’ve been trying to fix that bug for seven months. You do it in a week and now I look like an idiot.”
    Mark Johnson tore open a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos while he stared at the computer screen in his bedroom. His new job writing code was going pretty well. He was making four times what he’d made as a teacher and he didn’t even have to leave home. Or put on pants.
    “No problem,” he told Jared, glad he hadn’t let on that the chore had only taken him a few hours. Best not to show off. “What else you got for me?”
    While Jared launched into a description of another project, Mark covered the mic of his phone’s headset with one hand so he could politely munch on his Cheetos.
    “So what do you think?” Jared asked after a few minutes.
    Mark mulled it over. “Two weeks?”
    “Really? You think you can get it done that fast? QA wants a full month to test it before the release.”
    “I think so,” Mark said. “I’ll have to look at it for a couple days to be sure.”
    “That would be awesome,” Jared said. “I’ll tell the big guy, okay?”
    Mark swallowed another mouthful of Cheetos. “Okay.”
    “Awesome. You sure?”
    “No problem,” Mark said.
    When Jared finally hung up, Mark peeled off the headset, careful not to get Cheeto dust on his keyboard, and got to his feet.
    What time was it, anyway? He glanced at his monitor and recoiled. Already 5:24 p.m. and he hadn’t even gotten dressed yet. With blackout shades on his windows to reduce the glare on the trio of monitors on his desk, sometimes he lost track of the