The Checklist Addie Woolridge (pocket ebook reader TXT) 📖

Reaching out, Stacy began rapidly patting Dylan’s arm, her excited dance causing her gold sparkly heels to flash across the floor. “Oh my God. Your boss reprised hacking for me?”

Her whisper-shout carried to a couple placing their purses at a nearby table; they looked up. Raising a silencing hand, Dylan nodded, praying that admitting her boss might have committed a felony wouldn’t be the final straw that broke the friendship’s proverbial back. Stacy stopped for a second and glared at the couple, who moved on after a few tense blinks. Turning back to Dylan, she started vibrating off the floor, her words a gush of air. “That is so cool!”

“You’re not mad?”

“Heck no. It isn’t like he got me accepted. He just made sure the red tape didn’t stop this woman from getting a fair shake.”

“Seriously?” Dylan asked, forcing the hope in her voice under wraps. The last thing she wanted was to rush a friendship recovery, only to have it come back and bite her in the backside like all her other promises.

Leaning in conspiratorially, Stacy smirked. “I’m obviously qualified, and besides, who else can say that a world-renowned hacker and millionaire helped them with their grad school application?”

Dylan laughed. “I promise you I had no idea he was going to fix it like this, but I’m really glad he did.” Gathering her courage for the hard part, she added, “Stacy, I’m so sorry for what I did to you. I’ve been a terrible friend. Not just because of the letter but for missing visits home and not making time to see you. What’s wild is that until last week, you were about the only person in Seattle that I wanted to see, and I still didn’t give you the time or attention you deserved.”

Stacy’s kind expression twitched ever so slightly, as if hearing Dylan apologize touched on something deeper. “It’s no big deal. Seriously, it all worked out.”

“No, it was a big deal. What you said was hard but true. I was selfish. I made everything about me and my work and my relationships, and you paid the price for that.”

Looking down for a moment, Stacy let one of her heels wobble back and forth as she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I said it like that, though. I was just so mad at you. Like, yes, what happened was bad, but I knew you were stressed out.”

Dylan smiled as hope filled the cracks in the insecurities of their friendship. The two of them would be okay. Maybe even better, more honest friends now. Watching Stacy’s expression carefully, she said, “Can we agree to forgive each other?”

“Yes. Not gonna lie—I missed you, girl.” Stacy held her arms out wide for a hug, and the gold sequins on the long sleeves of her dress scratched Dylan’s arms. In that moment, she couldn’t have cared less about being mauled by a dress. If she never got another hug from her friend, this would be all the hug she ever needed.

Backing away, Dylan fanned her eye makeup, hoping to dry any tears before they did real damage. When she made eye contact with Stacy, who was carefully patting her eyeliner, the pair burst into a wet round of giggles.

“I was so heartbroken over what I did to you.” Dylan sniffed twice, still fanning her face with one hand and taking a sip of champagne with the other.

“Oh, I know. I had drinks with Neale yesterday. I was on the fence about rolling through, but then she mentioned Mike and Linda and Patricia. And seriously? We need to catch up.”

“Neale is the worst secret keeper ever,” Dylan laughed, turning her head and catching sight of the door.

Each muscle in her body hit pause. Mike was standing dead center of the blue carpet, flanked on either side by an elegant older woman. The three of them stopped, wonder written on their faces, as the room began its transition from jungle scene to underwater ocean, the brilliant greens transforming to gentle blues. The aqua light cast shadows over his face, making the angles of his body sharper, from the cut of his high cheekbones to the way his dark suit hugged his waist.

One of the donors elbowed Mike, who was squinting up at the ceiling, directing his attention to a school of fish dancing around the room toward her.

“Oh no.” Dylan jumped as their eyes met, jerking her head back toward Stacy with a squeak.

“Ack,” Stacy said, following Dylan’s eyes to the door.

“Maybe he didn’t see me.”

“You’re six feet tall, and the room is empty. He saw you.” To her friend’s credit, Stacy angled her body toward the door, as if her miniature stature might shield Dylan from sight and buy her more time to think.

“Holy shit. I’m not ready for all this. Maybe I can hide until it’s over?” Dylan whispered, trying to smooth the bodice lines in her dress.

“Wait. You managed to re-up his entire party, and now you are too scared to take credit for it?” Stacy asked, sucking noisy air through her teeth.

“Pretty much. I was so mean. And I flaked. It was way worse than what I did to you, trust me.”

“Is he still looking?”

“I don’t know,” Dylan said, consciously keeping her eyes away from the door.

“Well, I can’t turn and look. That’s too obvious. Do a casual laugh and glance or something.”

“That sounds silly.”

“This is silly,” Stacy said, rolling her eyes. “Just do it.”

The sound Dylan forced out of her throat was more like the mangled chuckle of a children’s movie villain than a laugh as she pushed the glamour wave out of her face while looking at the door.

Mike was saying his goodbyes to the two elegant women. Straightening up, he looked directly at her and began walking toward them, occasionally waving at a few guests as he crossed the room.

“He is coming.” Panic tinged Dylan’s attempt at a whisper.

Stacy grinned. “I can get the details later. You’re gonna