I tell her about Brody’s studied disinterest, and, most importantly, what happened after the party. How Brody was staring at my mouth, how he looked up guiltily and said, “Connor would kill me,” and how we both knew he didn’t mean for selling vibrating bunnies on his boat. And I update her on the state of the union with the parties, that after he said he didn’t want to do any more, he agreed to do at least a second one, in a few days.

“So? So? What are you going to do about it?”

“Well,” I say. “I don’t know. It’s confusing. He is my brother’s best friend. This could be the small town equivalent of a diplomatic incident. Maybe even declaration-of-war level.”

“Rachel,” she says sternly. “You are not going to miss your chance to bag the bad boy because your big brother might get testy with you.”

“No,” I agree. “That would be criminal.”

“So? What’s the plan?”

“I guess… I’m going to seduce Brody Wilder, on his boat, with a sparkly purple dildo?”

She giggles. “It sounds like a kinky game of Clue. I guess now we know what the rope and the candle were really for.”

“Candlestick.”

I can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Candle. Like, wax. You know.”

“Wax?”

“Oh, Rachel,” she groans. “You have so, so much fun ahead of you.”

“I need a strategy,” I say.

“Do you?” she asks. “It sounds like you’re doing pretty well without a plan.”

I picture the smolder in Brody’s green eyes and decide she’s right. Also, for the first time in my life without a plan sounds strangely wonderful.

“Oh, shit!” Louisa cuts into my fantasy, sounding panicked. “I just realized I’m supposed to be on a work call as of three minutes ago. Gotta run. Enjoy your walk on the wild side!”

“My walk on the Wilder side,” I correct, giddy. “It’s way wilder than picking your scarf with your eyes closed, right?”

That’s one of the things Louisa makes fun of me for, that I have fifty-five days worth of interchangeable work clothes (eleven shirts, five pants; can be worn in any combo), but I choose my scarves daily with my eyes closed, to shake things up.

Louisa snorts. “Fuck yeah. Have fun, girl!”

We say goodbye, and I swipe to hang up.

“Who was that?” a deep voice behind me asks from the doorway, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

“Connor! I didn’t know you were here! Where’s your truck?”

And, oh, megadooky! Was he listening?

“Dad took it to Home Depot. I was helping Mom with some stuff. Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”