“It’s complicated.” The answer was yes and no. It wasn’t black and white. But there was no way to explain that to Elle, because she didn’t entirely understand it herself. “I just know that when I’m with Chance, I feel the greatest pleasure and the greatest pain, you know? I think that means he’s not good for me.”
“Did you break up or not? I feel like you’re trying to either talk yourself into making it stick or talk yourself back out of it, and I can’t tell which it is.”
“Maybe it’s because last time it was a big scene with flying guitars and hurling accusations, and this time, I don’t know, it’s like we just stood there and gave up on each other. All I know is that it hurts like hell, Elle.”
“I’m sorry, I truly am. I know you wanted this to work. But maybe if you have to shove a square peg into a round hole, it isn’t worth it.”
Jolene wanted to agree to that. Maybe she would someday. Today she thought it was bull. There was nothing square about Chance’s peg.
Her phone rang on the coffee table next to Elle’s leg. She glanced at it. “That’s the number for the security gate up front. Will you answer it? I don’t want to get emotional on the guard if it’s Chance.”
It had to be Chance. She wasn’t expecting anyone else. Unless it was Ginny, which was more than she could handle at the moment.
Elle answered the phone. The security was why Jolene had moved into this community. Unless someone decided to sneak in on foot, everyone visiting any one of the dozen houses in the neighborhood had to go through the gate. Elle’s eyes widened and she pulled the phone away from her mouth. “It’s Tennyson. Should I tell the guard not to let her in?”
Wonderful. “Honestly, whatever, I don’t care. I’m going to have to face her sooner or later. It might as well be in the comfort of my own home.”
“I think you’re crazy. But if you don’t want to say no, at least run into the powder room and splash water on your face.”
That would require sitting up. “Do I have to?”
“Yes.” Elle reached out, dragged her off the couch, and marched her to the powder room off the kitchen. She opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a hairbrush, lip gloss, and a tube of mascara.
Given what Jolene saw in the mirror, her sister had a point. “I do look like roadkill, don’t I?”
“No. Just a little splotchy, which we’re fixing right now.”
By the time the doorbell rang, Jolene looked presentable. She went and opened the front door herself. Tennyson was standing there looking cautious.
“Hey, Tennyson, come on in.” Just because she was embarrassed didn’t mean she didn’t have manners.
“Thanks, Jolene. Look, I owe you an apology, first of all. I just assumed you knew, or that if you didn’t know, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t a big deal, I promise. Just a little kissing, nothing more.”
Tennyson truly looked apologetic. Jolene would have liked to say she was reassured, but she wasn’t feeling it. It still bothered her. “Okay, thanks, I appreciate it. But that doesn’t change the fact that you were picking through my relationship with Chance after having hit on him yourself. That’s not cool. But let’s just move on, shall we? I don’t want to continually rehash this.”
“I didn’t hit on Chance, he hit on me.”
Jolene raised an eyebrow. “Are we doing this? Really?” How dare Tennyson stand there and argue over who had flirted with who first? This was her house, damn it.
Tennyson had the decency to look abashed. “Okay, fine, yes, it doesn’t matter. Let’s move on. So does that mean you forgive Chance as well and we can get back to work?”
“I haven’t heard an apology from him, so no.”
Tennyson put her hands in her front pockets like she didn’t know what to do with them. “He asked me to come over here and smooth things over. He’s afraid to talk to you.”
Well, if that didn’t beat the damn Dutch. “I don’t see why Chance would be afraid to talk to me unless he has something to tell me that I haven’t heard yet.” Like that he had slept with Tennyson.
Tennyson shrugged. “I think after last time, he’s worried about an explosion. We all want the same thing—to finish the album.”
So that was the most important thing to Tennyson, clearly, and rightly so. Jolene couldn’t fault her for that, though she did think the woman had balls the size of Texas to be talking about what she wanted. As for Jolene, the damn album was the last thing on her mind. As to what Chance was thinking and feeling, there was no telling, because he wasn’t there. He was at home while he sent his songwriter and make-out partner to test the waters with Jolene like she was a ticking time bomb.
“My people will call your people,” Jolene said shortly. “I appreciate your efforts, but you need to head on out, Tennyson. I would like to be alone in my own home.”
“Absolutely. Of course. I suggest we move our writing to the studio. Next week?”
Jolene stared at her and opened the door. Her manners had officially dried up. “Good night.”
When the door closed behind Tennyson, Jolene gave a deep sigh and tried not to cry.
“You don’t actually believe her, do you?” Elle said, coming down the hallway. “I heard what she said, and it sounds like bullshit to me.”
“Which part?”