But things have shifted so much between us that instead of being psyched to hang with him, I’m wary. And that saddens me. Lately, every time I see Ollie, bits of my life come crashing down around my ears. And I do not want another piece to get chipped away if I can help it.
Still, this is Ollie talking, and I’m not ready to give up on us. “Do you want to just hang?” I ask. “Or is there something you want to talk about?”
He’s silent for a moment, and I know he’s also aware of the storm clouds between us. We know each other too well. “Both,” he finally admits. “Oh, hell, Nikki. This is bullshit, and you know it, too.”
I do know it, but I’m not inclined to admit it. “What is?” I say.
“Charles mentioned the party at Stark’s tomorrow,” he says, referring to Charles Maynard, his boss and the attorney who’s represented Damien for over a decade. “He just assumed I was invited, too, what with me and you being me and you.” He’s trying to be matter-of-fact, but I hear the hurt in his voice.
“Ollie—”
Beside me, Jamie shifts her attention from her iPhone to me. Apparently this one-sided conversation is more interesting than clearing out her junk email.
“I think this is the first time you’ve thrown a party that I wasn’t invited to,” Ollie says.
“I’m not the one throwing it,” I say, but the words are hollow despite their truth. If I’d asked, Damien would have let Ollie come to the party. If it was important to me, I am certain that he would have pushed his disdain aside.
But I hadn’t asked, because I understood why Damien didn’t want Ollie there. I’d chosen the man in my bed over my lifelong friend, and I do not regret the decision.
He sighs. “It’s just—look, I’m sorry, okay? I get that you’re with the guy. And, yeah, I have my issues with him, but if this means that we can’t be friends anymore …”
He trails off, and I squeeze my eyes closed tight. “I don’t want to screw up our friendship, either,” I finally say, and then I let the thought hang. As far as I’m concerned, Ollie’s the one who’s built the wall. He can damn well be the one who starts tearing it down.
“So how about it?” he asks. “Let’s go get a drink. Hang out. Make up dialogue for the people at the next table.”
I smile despite myself. When I was in college and Ollie was in law school, that was our favorite form of cheap amusement. We’d go to Magnolia Cafe or Z’Tejas in Austin and watch people at the other tables. How they moved, how they interacted. And then we’d write their dialogue, turning friends into lovers, crafting arguments, and professing profound love. We never sat close enough to find out what the people were really saying. This was all about the make-believe.
“Tonight’s kind of hard,” I say, glancing at Jamie. “But hold on a second.”
I hit the mute button on the phone and look at Jamie. “What do you think? Want to make tonight a threesome?”
“I’m not really into that kind of kink.”
I roll my eyes. “Seriously, Ollie wants to go out for drinks.”
“With both of us?” I can hear the disbelief in her voice.
“He only invited me, but if you two can’t play nice together then you shouldn’t have jumped into bed in the first place. Seriously, James. You need to get past this.”
She tosses her hands up in surrender. “Hey, fair enough. But I’m not the only one being weird. You haven’t been in the pro-Ollie camp lately, either.”
“So maybe we all three need to have an intervention. Go out. Have fun. Pretend like things are back the way they used to be.”
I think she hesitates, but it may only be my imagination. “So Courtney’s not coming?” she asks, referring to Ollie’s fiancée.
“He didn’t say. I’m guessing not. She’s probably traveling this week. So what do you think?”
“Yeah, sure,” she says. “But not drinks.”
“Jamie, if you don’t want—”
“No, no,” she interrupts. “I do. And tonight’s fine. I just mean that you and I already have plans later, anyway. Ollie can tag along.”
“What plans?” This is totally news to me.
“Raine invited us to a party at The Rooftop and Garreth Todd is going to be there.”