by Carina Adams
It was after eleven when my hunger got too much for me and I headed for the kitchen to scrounge up something. The apartment was silent, yet Frankie was on the couch, laptop open.
“Hey,” I dropped down on the end next to her feet. “Why are you up so late?”
“Can’t sleep. So, I’m looking for a job.” She slid the Mac onto the coffee table and pulled her knees to her chest. “You?”
“I’m hungry. I skipped dinner.” It was a lie. After Reid had left, I’d been too embarrassed to leave my room. “I was going to make macaroni and cheese.” Another lie, but it was her favorite, and from the looks of things, she was in serious need of comfort food. Plus, it would give us some time to talk privately while it cooked. “You want?”
“Uh, yeah. You haven’t made it in forever.”
She followed me into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as I pulled out all the ingredients and filled a pot with water.
“How’s the job hunt going?”
“The market here sucks. I’m sorry.”
I turned on the burner and looked at her. “For what?”
“Getting fired. For not being more understanding when this happened to you. I’m destroyed after one time. I can’t imagine how you felt after losing six jobs.”
“Seven,” I laughed as I shushed her with a wave of my hand. “I have enough money in the bank to cover us both for a month or two, and some big parties coming up. We’ll be fine.”
“I don’t want you to take care of me.”
“Too bad. That’s what family does.” I glanced up from the cheese I was slicing and held out a large chunk to her. “You and me. Always. Remember?”
“God, I’ve missed you.”
I dropped the knife and turned to her. The emotion in her voice scared me. I put my arms around her waist and stepped close. “I love you.”
She hugged me back, her arms tight. “I love you back.”
I moved back to the cutting board and got back to work.
“We never got a chance to talk yesterday. What did you need?”
I swallowed. After the conversation at the diner with Roman, I’d been determined to go home and sit with her, have a long heart to heart. She and Livie had been getting ready to go out with friends, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask her then.
I opened the box of shells and poured them into the boiling water then stirred it once and moved next to her. “I overheard something a few weeks ago and it’s been eating me alive.”
“Something about what?”
“Livie.”
“Oh,” she sighed. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I haven’t been avoiding you.” I turned to her, but the knowing look she sent me had me backtracking. “Yes.”
“Okay. Shoot. You know you can tell me anything, ask me anything, right? Liv and I don’t keep secrets from each other. I’ll always tell you whatever you need or want to know.”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“By saying something. Anything, really. It will get easier as you talk.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Then I started. I told her about Brooke, and Livie’s odd dislike of the other woman. I explained what I’d done to try to get Roman and his ex back together and moved on to the weird interactions in Boston. When I related the conversation I’d overheard in Reid’s house, I struggled to find the words. Finally, the events of the last few weeks came out.
By the time I was done talking, the mac ‘n cheese was made and plated, a pot of coffee had brewed, and we were sitting at the counter, ready to dig in.
Frankie had stayed silent through it all, listening with a patience only she had. She watched me for a moment after I was done, as if she thought I might have more to say, then she lifted her fork and took a bite. I waited.
“So, wow. That’s a lot to process.”
I nodded. It was.
“I love Olivia. I want to marry her. She’s my one. I need you to remember that.” She took another bite and chased it with coffee.
“That doesn’t mean we’ve always had it easy. When I met Liv, she introduced Roman as her best friend. I didn’t question it. They were tight, like you and me. It never occurred to me to be worried about the fact that he was a dude, because, again, you. I know it’s possible to be friends with someone—to be really, really tight with someone you could potentially have feelings for— and not be attracted to them. Brooke was jealous, though. We went out to dinner with them a few times, so she could see Livie wasn’t a threat, but it didn’t work. She hated her.
“Our lives fit together really well. She was gone to her grandfather’s ever weekend so she never got upset about my work schedule or bitchy about how many away games I had. Falling in love with her happened so fast it was like destiny. She went from being someone I was dating to someone I couldn’t survive without overnight.
“I didn’t know what she did for work. I don’t know that I would’ve cared, if she’d told me outright, but she didn’t, so we’ll never know. She was in the shower one afternoon last spring when her phone wouldn’t stop blowing up. It was Roman telling her the time of the party had changed and he’d pick her up later. She was supposed to be going to stay with her dying grandfather, not going to a party with her best friend.
“I wanted answers. We had a big fight. The truth came out and we broke up. It was the first time ever that I was happy you’d gone home for the weekend. I didn’t want you to hear us argue, and I really didn’t want you to know the truth about her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was going to. But, you were dealing with the fallout from Morris and Morris. And I didn’t want you to know what an idiot I’d been.”
“How were you an idiot?”
“Because she was too good to be true. She was far too perfect for me and I should have known it.”
“Francesca!” That wasn’t the case at all.
She ignored me. “Then, we started talking again. We agreed to give it another try, and made an honesty pact.”
The term made me straighten my back. “Oh?”
“We ask each other anything, any time, and the other answers honestly, but can soften it to keep from hurting the other. That also means if we don’t think we can handle an answer, we don’t ask the question. It works for us. We got everything out in the open. I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want you to hate her.” She held up a hand when I started to object. “You would have.”
I grumbled, but didn’t argue. She was right. “Was the honesty thing Livie’s idea?”
Frankie’s smile was tight. “Roman’s actually. He suggested we try it.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t hate Roman,” she told me quickly. “I don’t…I’m glad she doesn’t work with him anymore, and I have had a hard time understanding their friendship, but I don’t hate him. We weren’t a couple when they slept together and she told me about it as soon as we started talking.” She sucked her teeth. “They still talk all the time, as you’ve probably realized. They’re not uncomfortable around each other, so I try not to be.”
“I really think they’re just good friends. Like us.”
She snorted. “We’ve never had sex.”
I couldn’t argue. “He regrets it, if that’s any comfort.”
“They both do,” she said quietly. “When Liv first suggested she get you a job at Soiree, my first thought was you were going to be in over your head. Then, I realized as long as Roman had your back, you’d be okay. That’s how I know I don’t hate him. If I did, I wouldn’t want him within ten feet of you.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I didn’t want you to take the job.”
I snorted. If she thought she’d done a good job hiding her feelings, she needed to work on personal presentation. “I know.”
“It wasn’t because I doubted you. I think you’re amazing and can do anything. It wasn’t even because I was worried you’d figure out all the shit we just talked about. You’re my deare
st friend and I should have told you this all from the beginning.”
“Why, then?”
“Liv doesn’t see sexuality like we do. You’re attracted to just men. I like just women. Liv can be attracted to anyone regardless of gender or sexual preference. However, there are certain attributes she’s drawn to.”
“What does that have to do with me dancing at Soiree?”
“Livie takes her clothes off for people every night. She’s worked with numerous security guys and gorgeous women. She’s surrounded by people who find her attractive. Yet, she’s only slept with one of them. And she’s only ever wanted to sleep with one of them.”
I still didn’t follow.
“You’re attracted to the same things she is.”
Oh. Suddenly we weren’t talking about Frankie anymore. Hell, we weren’t even talking about Liv. I needed to say the words, to admit she was right, get it off my chest. But some secrets I didn’t want to disclose, not even to myself.
“I’m with Reid.” I blurted out. “I slept with Reid.”
She’d known, of course. It was written all over her face. She’d let him in before lunch and he’d snuck out long after dinnertime. She wasn’t talking about him, though.
“I saw you with Roman yesterday.”
“I wasn’t with him,” I argued.
“He watched you more than he did the game. He barely listened to the conversations going on around him, far too interested in what you were doing.”
“Because he’s a nosey ass.” I sat forward, annoyed at the mere thought of him. “He drives me crazy. He’s insufferable. An egotistical ass who has to be right all the time. We fight constantly.” I punctuated each point with the wave of a hand. Then rubbed my forehead. “Except when we don’t. In those moments, he’s my friend. He’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. He makes me feel safe and can turn my bad days around. I love being around him.”
I love him. The unspoken words hung in the air. I wouldn’t admit them because I couldn’t be in love with someone like Roman MacGregor. Especially not when I was with Reid.
“And Reid?”
I smiled. “He’s calm, yet determined. If he wants something, he goes for it. He’s loyal and loveable. He lets me know I can do anything I put my mind to. Being with him is easy and laidback. He supports me, no matter what. And, damn, that man is amazing in bed.”
I love him, too.
She tittered. “Where does that leave you?”
I rubbed my hands over my face. “The idiot in love with two very different men. Neither which I’m good enough for, by the way, because if I was, I wouldn’t feel this way about both of them. One is caught up on his ex and could never love me back. The other deserves the world and should be with someone who loves just him. And no matter what happens, I’m going to end up devastated and alone.”
“Oh, Cady.”
Frankie and I both spun around, surprised by Livie’s presence. She walked to me and put her arms around my shoulders.
“Both of them? I never saw that coming.” She blew out a long breath. “I can promise you one thing, though. You will never be alone.”
“We’ll figure this out,” Frankie agreed. “Together.”
Thirty-Four
Roman
Reid stumbled into the kitchen, still wearing his clothes from the day before, hair a mess and eyes red. It brought me up short. I glanced at my watch to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind. He should have been in class.
“Mornin’,” I drawled. “What are you doing here?”
“I skipped class.” He headed straight for the coffee, not that I blamed him. He looked like shit.
I watched his jerky movements, confused. Reid rarely played hooky, and never this far into a semester. “What’s going on?”
“I didn’t have time to finish my paper yesterday. I stayed up almost all night, but couldn’t get it done.”
“Shit. What can I do to help?” I knew fuck all about his law classes, but I could keep the coffee fresh and make sure his cell phone was off.
“Nothing. It’s my own fault. I spent the afternoon with Cady instead of here, working on it.”
I’d lifted my mug to my lips but set it back down. “She didn’t go home?”
He shook his head and pulled a box of cereal off a shelf. “No. Her car has to be towed to a garage.”
“Did she say what was wrong with it?”
He frowned in my direction. “I didn’t ask. She told me she had it and not to worry.”
I rolled my eyes as soon as he turned around. I’d been tempted to stop at her apartment after my lunch with Marcus to take a look at the warning light. I mentally kicked my ass for putting it off. She’d offered me a job that was almost too good to turn down, and I’d been distracted.
“She’s in love with you, you know.”
I almost spit out my coffee. I forced it down, then coughed. “Who we talking about?”
He glanced at me over his shoulder as he filled his cup. “Cady.”
I didn’t know what to say, but there were a thousand things that came to mind. I settled with, “No, she’s not. We’re just friends.” I hated saying it. She may have only considered me a friend, but there was nothing platonic about the way I felt.
“Maybe.” He smiled, but it wasn’t happy. “I was going to point out that people don’t sleep with their friends. But, then again, this is you we’re talking about.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’ve never slept with Cady.”
“No?”
I didn’t like the doubt in his voice. And the challenge pissed me off. “Never.”
“What about the night of her first show. The one where I told you I wanted her.”
I clenched my jaw. “I kissed her.”
He laughed humorlessly. “Of course you did. Let me guess, you were drunk.”
I refused to answer. That night felt like a lifetime ago. It was in the past.
He sat across from me, weariness had replaced his agitation. “She’s in love with you. And I’m in love with her.”
My eyes sought his as my heart started to pound at his announcement. I hadn’t realized they’d gotten serious. That he’d gotten serious about her. I didn’t want to hear it. He couldn’t love her. Fate wasn’t that cruel.
“It seems we’re destined to repeat history, doesn’t it? Is this a true triangle we’ve got—will we find out that you secretly love me next? Or is this simply another three sided love story?”
He waited for me to answer so I cleared my throat and stuck to my story. “It’s all in your head. Cady and I are just friends.”
“I was with her last night. You might not have been there in that room, but you were there in her mind.”
I tried to fight the jealousy that flared at his words. I’d known it was only a matter of time before they slept together, but I didn’t want to hear about it. I was torn because I wanted him to have someone, and more than anything, I wanted him to be happy. I just wished he hadn’t found that with the woman I’d fallen for.
“Fuck. I…I,” I stumbled. I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m not mad, Rome. We can’t seem to help it. You’re my best friend. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you. But, I can’t share her.”
I didn’t argue. Even if Cady would go for it, it wasn’t an option. I wanted her for myself. I couldn’t share, either.
He stood up and carried his cup out of the room. He hesitated at the doorway and turned back around. “Do whatever it takes to get it out of your system. I won’t hold it against either of you. Just know, I’m not giving up without a fight.”
I stared at the door long after it was empty. I didn’t know what in the hell he’d meant by that, but I could guess. I didn’t think I could get her out of my system. She was more than under my skin. She was tattooed on my heart.
I was still off in space Friday afternoon when Randy knocked on my door.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
The
news was relatively startling. We maintained a professional setting, but didn’t encourage clients to come to the studio. The only guests I entertained were the ones who’d made an appointment. I glanced at my calendar to be sure I hadn’t booked someone months ago, but the space was empty.
The only way to get in, unless you had a key code, was to be buzzed in. Since we didn’t have a receptionist—because we weren’t a typical office—the bell rang in Randy’s costume room, my office, and the studio. I hadn’t heard it, so someone must have let whoever it was in. The entire situation sent up a red flare.
“Who is it?”
Randy crossed his arms over his plain black shirt. “Greenwood.”
I stood up, buttoned my jacket, and hurried down the hall. Jonathan Greenwood was my grandfather’s friend, one of his personal lawyers, and a loyal political supporter. I was a far cry from his typical clients, but he took my work as a favor to the Macgregor.
“I’m sorry. I’d forgotten you were coming today.”
He greeted me with a firm handshake. “We didn’t have an appointment. I’m in the state for another client. I have an update for you.”
“Let’s go to my office.”
As soon as the door closed behind us, he pulled a thick manila envelope from his bag and placed it on my desk.
My gaze moved from him to the package and back. I’d asked him to look into two separate problems for me, and I wasn’t sure which one brought this particular house call.
He sat and crossed one ankle over his knee. “He is on the East Coast. Southern New Hampshire, but his parents are in Maine.”
Shit. I opened my jacket, sunk into my own chair and picked up the packet. With a slip of a finger, I could learn everything there was to know. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“There’s no connection to you, Soiree, or any party.”
“That doesn’t mean there isn’t one,” I pointed out. “We don’t require hosts to provide guest lists.”
