He was right. It had been easier to avoid the confrontation, but it was time to say her piece. She owed her friends that much, and then they could make their own decision whether or not they wanted to continue the friendship. “I’ll think about it.”
He nodded, accepting her decision. “Fine. I’ll check in with you later.” His tone morphed back into the cool, clipped manner she was getting accustomed to. Her soul mourned the softening and intimacy between them before she’d told him about Becca. She wondered if she’d waited longer to tell him, would their bond have been more unshakable?
No. Any type of foundation they had laid crumbled to dust the moment he learned she’d lied to him. Sydney wondered if he’d ever be able to truly forgive her, let alone trust her again. She answered him with a quick good-bye, then left the mansion with a heavy heart.
Work was a balm to her soul. The hours flew by as she directed the renovation, got her hands dirty, and saw real progress being made. She was able to leave at a decent hour, help Becca with her homework, get dinner on the table, and change in time to get out to the restaurant. Tristan walked in minutes before she was due to leave.
“Daddy!” Becca flew into his arms, and he caught her, whirling her around in the air. She leaned against the wall and watched them. Heads bent together, smiles framing similar faces: Sydney soaked in the beauty of seeing them like this. It was so obvious how Becca’s eyes were more gold than green, and her nose had that same sharp look. They were both lefties and allergic to strawberries. They were stubborn and sarcastic and beautiful, and each day they grew more bonded. Sydney had wondered if she’d feel any type of jealousy since Becca had been hers alone for so long. But she didn’t. It was as if all the broken pieces had finally been mended together in a picture of sheer beauty.
“Mama put dinner aside for you. You’re late again.” Becca wrinkled her nose, but her father kissed her forehead, and her frown immediately smoothed out.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Mama and I are doing a big project, so things will be busy for a while. But I’ve scheduled your horseback riding lessons for Saturday, and we’ll all go together. How does that sound?”
Her daughter squealed and jumped with glee. “Yes! Oh, I can’t wait, it’s going to be so much fun. But are you sure you can ride a horse?”
He puffed out with pure male pride. “Of course I can. I’m like a regular horse wrangler.”
Becca glanced over, and Sydney shook her head. “Lie,” she confirmed. “Your father has never even seen a stable, let alone horse poo.”
That made her break into giggles. “Mama, have you ridden before?”
Sydney shook her head. “Nope, this is going to be new to me, too. We’ll learn together.”
“Like a family!”
Tristan cleared his throat. “Yes, because we are a family.” He shrugged off his jacket and moved toward the kitchen. “Thanks again for leaving me dinner. You heading out?”
Her palms sweated, but she was determined to face down her fears. It was time to see if her friends would stick by her side. “Yes. Don’t wait up.”
He lifted a brow. “I will, anyway,” he said with a touch of warning. Was that a gleam of mischief in his eye, or was she hallucinating? No. Playing hide-and-go-seek every evening wasn’t Tristan’s way of having fun. He was too damn mad at her still.
“Suit yourself. Bye, sweetheart. See you in the morning.”
“Bye, Mama.”
She left them cozying up at the kitchen table and drove to My Place. Poker nights on Wednesday consisted of only females, and ranged from five to ten people on average. When she walked through the saloon-type doors, the sound of feminine laughter and scents of sweet potato fries, bacon, and good old-fashioned grease filled the air. As she neared the table, a chorus of greetings echoed in her ear.
“Sydney! It’s been a while since we’ve seen you. Congrats on the wedding,” Carla said, jumping up to hug her. She was a sweet-natured librarian with a tendency to get crazy during high stakes and reveal her fabulous potty mouth.
“Thank you,” she said, hugging back.
Morgan gave her a tight smile. “Good to see you, Syd,” she said quietly. Her gaze quickly dropped, as if she couldn’t stand looking her in the face.
Sydney’s heart ached, and she swallowed back fearful nerves. “You, too.”
Raven came from around the bar and slid a Sweet Hot Chris cocktail across the table. Her famous champagne mixed drink was a favorite on poker nights and was dubbed for all the sexy celebrities named Chris she lusted after, such as Chris Hemsworth, Chris Pine, Chris Pratt, and Chris Evans. Dalton always laughed and said she’d named it before she met him, or it would’ve been the Sweet Hot Dalton.
Raven actually agreed.
“Thanks,” Sydney said, searching her friend’s dark eyes for any type of understanding or compassion. She found only distance. “Raven, I really wanted to talk to you tonight. With Morgan.”
Raven nodded slowly. “I think that’s a great idea.”
She swallowed. “After poker?”
“Sure. Let’s play a few rounds, and I’ll cut the night a bit early.”
“Thanks.”
She slid into her seat, opened her purse, and bought her chips. They were just about to begin the first round when the door opened and a woman dressed in snug jeans, a cashmere cardigan, and Ugg boots waltzed in. Her soft brown hair was swept up in a fashionable ponytail. Her makeup was flawless, and she sported her signature bright red lips.
Sydney almost closed her eyes in horror.
Not her. Anyone but her. She just didn’t have the energy tonight.
But when she peeked back, the woman hadn’t left. She was talking with Raven, who nodded and motioned her to take a seat at the table.
Cynthia.
The one she’d battled with after the ballet and Tristan’s new enemy. Right away, the woman’s dark brown eyes focused on her. Was that a glint of evil glee in her eyes or was she being paranoid? Oh, God, why had she lost it and brought Christian Grey into their fight?
“Sydney Greene-Seymour,” Cynthia purred, strolling over to take the seat next to her. Had she emphasized her last name on purpose? “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hi, Cynthia. I didn’t know you played poker.”
“Oh, it’s been on my bucket list for years, so when I heard about this little weekly gathering, I thought it would be fun to try it out.” She handed Raven a large bill and took her chips. Raven introduced her to the women, who engaged in casual chatter, and Morgan began to deal the cards. Sydney decided the entire evening was cursed. She’d concentrate on playing poker and try not to draw any extra attention. Small circles of conversation rose up around her. Cynthia sipped her wine, and they played the first few rounds. She began to relax. Maybe Cynthia really did just want to play cards and make some friends. Maybe Sydney had overreacted. How many times had she warned Becca not to look for trouble until it bit you on the ass?
Well, not in those same exact words.