“Ugh!” Chrissy huffs, her eyes narrowing. “You are so annoying.”
Mark grins at her, his eyes soft. “I love you too, babe.”
She giggles.
I roll my eyes. “You two are disgusting.”
They both turn their smiles in my direction. “We know,” they say in unison, further affirming their gross levels of cute.
I groan.
“So, tell us about the day,” Chrissy says, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “I want all the juicy details. I’ve been tracking the story on social media, but besides some pictures of the outside of your apartment building, they don’t have anything new.”
I nearly choke on my wine. “I’m sorry… did you just say you’ve beentrackingme?”
Chrissy nods. “I set up a Google Alert. Every time a new story goes up about you, my phonedings! Isn’t that great?” she exclaims. “Mark showed me how.”
My eyes fly to Mark, who’s suddenly looking guilty.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, avoiding my eyes.
I sigh. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing they don’t have anything new.” My voice is audibly relieved, and I take a big sip of wine. “The last thing I need is them hounding me at work, after the day I’ve had.”
“Ohmigod!” Chrissy squeals. “For a second there, you lookedworried! Does that mean there’s something you thought they might find out about? Did something happen today? Did you see him again?” With each question, Chrissy’s voice gets louder, until her tone is piercing.
I stare at the crazy woman who used to be my best friend, genuinely concerned for her sanity.
“Hon, calm down—” Mark starts.
“Shhh, Mark!” Her eyes never waver from my face. “GEMMA, TELL ME!”
“She’s a little scary,” I say instead, looking at Mark.
He nods. “Preaching to the choir, babe.”
“Gemma Summers, if you don’t spit out your story right this minute I’ll—”
We never get to hear what form of deadly punishment she intends to inflict on me, because at that exact moment, someone starts knocking on the door. It’s not the polite knock of a stranger or a deliveryman — it’s the insistent, constant pounding of an angry fist against wood.
I freeze for a minute, my eyes flying from Chrissy to Mark to the door and back again.
“I’ll get it,” Mark says casually, rising to his feet and crossing the room. I find my heart is in my throat as I watch his hand move through the air, turn the knob, and tug open the door.
“Well, it’s about damn time!” a sassy female voice snaps.
Oh, thank god.
I relax back against the couch cushions.
“Hiya, Shelbs,” Chrissy calls to the tall, toned brunette who’s just stepped over the threshold. Her usually pretty face is contorted in a glare.
“Don’tHiya, Shelbsme, you bitches!”
“Hey!” Chrissy huffs in protest.
“What did we do?” I ask, my eyes widening.
“Oh, um, I don’t know,” Shelby says, coming to a stop next to the coffee table with her hands planted on her hips. “Maybemade out with a billionaire on national television and then dodged my calls for the next twenty-four hours?”