Monica and I have made up by Thursday. She apologized for getting in my face in front of everyone, though she didn’t apologize for what she said. A silent understanding has partitioned us at the moment. She disagrees about Adrian, how I handled Bo, and how I’m currently handling Bo. And I disagree with her. I’ve stepped into maid-of-honor duties and have planned their engagement party for Fourth of July weekend—just two weeks away. Despite our standoff about my love life, I can be fully supportive of hers.
“Was Adrian upset about the concert tonight?” Monica asks, as we enjoy lunch outside in the grass.
“Upset about what?” I scoff.
“Doesn’t he know Bo’s going?”
I didn’t even know Bo was going until yesterday afternoon, when Rae was trying to find a “sixth” person to go. I’d asked if there was a ticket for Monica. She couldn’t look me in the eyes when she told me Bo was the fifth.
“He didn’t ask, I didn’t tell, it doesn’t matter. We’re not in a relationship, Monica.”
“For fuck’s sake, Ember, when will you realize that you and Adrian Turner cannot do the “we’re not really in a relationship” thing?”
In my head, I disagree. We’re different people than we were when we first met seven years ago. Our needs are different. My needs are different. As we chew in silence, I catch Bo walking toward us out of the corner of my eye—with that smile.
“Hey Bo.” I smile between sips of my Fiji water. It’s not getting easier—saying his name or being around him—but I’ve become one hell of an actress.
“Hello, ladies.” He sits down across from Monica and me, stretching his legs and messing a hand through his charcoal hair before leaning back.
Damn. Why. Why is he so hot? All. The. Time.
With her impeccable timing, Ainsley Worthington and her strawberry blonde hair interrupt what would have been a rather pleasant lunch. Her heels clack through the parking lot, and Bo rolls his eyes before she’s close enough to see.
“Hey Spencer!” I swear she cheers just to piss me off. And, hearing her call him Spencer makes me want to throw up.
“Hi Ains.” Ains? I see Monica’s eyebrows lift as Bo uses a nickname for her. He barely turns his head toward her, but that makes her walk all the way over to us.
Shit.
“Well, I know how much you liked the steak salad when we went to lunch the other day, so I thought I’d bring one by for you.” She holds out a brown paper bag and makes deliberate eye contact with me.
Time freezes in my head but seems to continue outside, as Bo and Ainsley engage in some sort of exchange. I turn to Monica in the slowest motion known to man. She just shakes her head and shrugs. Because you’re friends, remember? The idea of Ainsley and Bo having lunch together overrides any rationale clinging to life in my brain. I stand up and brush myself off.
“If you guys will excuse me, I have to get back to work. Bo, stop by my office later so we can talk about when we’re leaving for the concert.” I turn for the building and catch Bo biting a smile away from his lower lip, as Ainsley’s face goes flush. I can’t deny that it felt good to make her jealous, but I’ll try.
*
I’ve successfully avoided everyone for the rest of the afternoon by keeping myself busy with phone conferences. An hour before we’re supposed to leave for the concert, Monica walks into my office.
“Good news, Josh got the night off, so he’s our sixth. Can I borrow your red lipstick?” She pulls a mirror out of her purse and smacks her lips together.
“Sure. Are we getting ready here or at the hotel?” I ask, as I reach for my lipstick.
“Like hell! You guys are coming to my house!” Rachel bounces in with Regan right behind her.
Would it be weird if I just stayed here? I haven’t been back to the Cavanaugh estate. The thought of crossing that threshold again makes me dizzy.
“Well then, let’s get out of here so we can pretty ourselves up for Chris Martin. Josh will meet us at the concert.” Monica slings her bag over her shoulder, says “hi” to Regan, and heads to the parking lot.
We follow her down the hallway and into the sweet release of fresh air.
“You feeling all right, Ember? You look a little pale.” Regan breaks my reminiscent gaze into nowhere.
“What? Oh, sorry, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired—guess I should go get some coffee before we head to the concert.” I chuckle as I stretch my hands over my head.
Although we’ve only known each other a short time, Regan has clearly tuned into me. Under ordinary circumstances, I’d like to think he’d be my best friend—I can feel that connection. He’s dating my ex-boyfriend’s sister, however, and seems to see my heart beating through my shirt whenever Bo’s around. His head nods in understanding, while his eyes give away his doubt. Before Regan can call me out, Bo walks over from his car.