Hook, Line, and Sinker (Bellinger Sisters, #2)(2)


January 1

FOX (12:01 AM): Happy New Year.

HANNAH (12:02 AM): Same to you! May it bring you crabs.

F (12:03 AM): Any resolutions?

H (12:07 AM): Normally I would say no. But I want to take more risks this year. Put myself out there a little more workwise, you know? Don’t copy me. You are AT CAPACITY on workplace risks.

F (12:09 AM): How else am I going to get crabs?

H (12:10 AM): At a restaurant, like a normal person.

F (12:10 AM): I always order the steak.

H (12:11 AM): That’s irony for you.

February 5

FOX (9:10 AM): It’s raining here. Give me something moody to listen to.

HANNAH (9:12 AM): Hmm. The National. Start with “Fake Empire.”

F (9:14 AM): On it. Got any plans for this weekend?

H (9:17 AM): Not really. My parents are in Aspen, so I have the house to myself. I have it to myself a lot lately. I keep expecting Piper to walk around the corner in a charcoal mask.

F (9:18 AM): Women put charcoal on their faces?

H (9:20 AM): That’s tame. There is such a thing as a snail facial.

F (9:21 AM): Jesus. I’m just going to pretend I never heard that.

H (9:28 AM): Do you have plans this weekend? Heading to Seattle?

F (9:35 AM): That’s always a possibility.

F (9:36 AM): But it’s my mother’s birthday. Might just run her over some flowers and say hey.

H (9:38 AM): You’re a good son. Does she ever come see you in Westport?

F (9:45 AM): No. She doesn’t.

F (9:46 AM): Thanks for the music rec, Freckles. Text you later.

February 14

HANNAH (6:03 PM): Happy Valentine’s Day! Doing anything special?

FOX (6:05 PM): God no. I’d rather light myself on

F (6:09 PM): Are you? Doing something special?

H (6:11 PM): Yes, sir. I’m on a date.

F (6:11 PM): With who??

H (6:15 PM): Myself. Very charming. Might be the one.

F (6:16 PM): Lock that girl down. She’s the kind you bring home to mom.

F (6:20 PM): Do you want to be on a date? With someone besides yourself?

H (6:23 PM): IDK. It wouldn’t suck? Unfortunately, my type would probably define this whole holiday as a commercial gimmick. Or he’d buy me dead roses to represent the evils of consumerism.

F (6:26 PM): That’s a pretty specific type. Are we talking about your director crush? Sergei, right?

H (6:28 PM): Yes. My sister likes to tease me about pining for starving artists.

F (6:29 PM): You like them dark and dramatic, huh?

H (6:30 PM): Careful! You’re going to give me an orgasm.

F (6:30 PM): If that was the plan, babe, you’d have had two already.

F (6:33 PM): Shit, Hannah. Sorry. I shouldn’t have gone there.

H (6:34 PM): No, I went there first. Blame it on the single glass of wine I’ve had. #lightweight

F (6:40 PM): Apart from being dark and dramatic . . . what makes a man your type? What is eventually going to make a man The One?

H (6:43 PM): I think . . . if they can find a reason to laugh with me on the worst day.

F (6:44 PM): That sounds like the opposite of your type.

H (6:45 PM): It does, doesn’t it? Must be the wine.

H (6:48 PM): He’ll need to have a cabinet full of records and something to play them on, of course.

F (6:51 PM): Well obviously.

February 28

FOX (7:15 PM): How was your day?

HANNAH (7:17 PM): It had sort of a “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman feeling to it.

F (7:18 PM): Like . . . nostalgic?

H (7:20 PM): Yeah. A little blue. I think I miss Westport?

F (7:20 PM): Come here.

F (7:23 PM): If you want.

H (7:25 PM): I wish! We just started casting a new movie. Not a great time.

F (7:27 PM): Have you kept your resolution? To take more risks at work?

H (7:28 PM): Not yet. I’m working up to it, tho.

H (7:29 PM): Seriously. Aaaany minute now. (crickets) F (7:32 PM): This is where I remind you that the first time we met, you were facing off with a boat captain twice your size, ready to tear his limbs off for shouting at your sister. You’re a badass.

H (7:35 PM): Thanks for the reminder. I’ll get there. It’s just . . . imposter syndrome, I guess. Like, what makes me think I’m qualified to make movie soundtracks?

F (7:37 PM): I get imposter syndrome.

H (7:37 PM): You do?

F (7:38 PM): If you could only hear me laughing.

H (7:39 PM): I . . . wish I could. Hear you laughing.

F (7:40 PM): Yeah. Wouldn’t mind hearing your laugh, either.

H (7:45 PM): How was your day, Peacock?

F (7:47 PM): Worked on the boat with Sanders, so a shit ton of Springsteen.

H (7:49 PM): Blue collar boys. Making money! Sweating in jeans! Bandanas in pockets!

F (7:50 PM): It’s like you were right there with us.

March 8

HANNAH (8:45 AM): Hey. I think you’re out on the boat.

H (8:46 AM): Hope you’re being safe.

H (9:02 AM): When you’re out on the water and can’t text back, I really notice it.

H (9:03 AM): The lack of you.

H (9:10 AM): So I’m glad we’re friends. That’s all I’m awkwardly trying to say.

H (9:18 AM): If you dream of me this time, try dreaming I can fly or turn invisible. Or that my best friend is Cher. That’s way cooler than a flat tire.

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