The Friends We Keep

“Ouch.” The smile faded. He pressed a hand to his chest. “Is it that you’re mad about before or you just don’t like me?”


“I don’t know you well enough to like or dislike you, and I’m not mad. I’m just not interested.”

He took a step toward her. The movement wasn’t threatening, so she didn’t move back. Instead it seemed as if he were trying to figure something out.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Goodbye.”

He left. Just like that. No backward glance, nothing. Nicole stared after him, not sure what she felt. She’d thought he would make another run at asking her out. Apparently she’d been very clear in dismissing him.

Shannon walked back into the studio. “Well?”

“He’s gone. He asked me out, I said no and he left.”

Her friend glanced over her shoulder to where Jairus was driving away. His car was a black sedan. A BMW, but not overly flashy—at least for LA.

“Did you like him?” Shannon asked. “I know you hate all things Brad the Dragon, but I’m talking about the man. Was he nice? Were you tempted?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

Shannon touched her arm. “You’re my friend and I love you. I also worry about you. It’s been over a year since you and Eric split. The divorce has been final for months and months, but to the best of my knowledge, you haven’t gone out with anyone. Aren’t you lonely? Don’t you want a romantic relationship in your life?”

“I don’t know,” Nicole admitted, telling the absolute truth. “I don’t let myself think about it.”

Shannon’s gaze turned sympathetic. “That’s what I thought. Maybe this is a good time to find out why.”

*

When Gabby was a kid, Legos had been a toy only boys played with. At least in her circle of friends. Sometime in the past twenty years, they’d developed a line of Legos for girls. As she carefully applied the sticker to what would be a scale in a pink-and-purple vet’s office, she thought this was actually kind of fun. Building things with her girls.

The directions were simple and visual. The twins took turns putting the pieces together. They had already named both the cat and the dog, and had big plans for adding this business to their Lego village.

She finished with the sticker and handed the little piece to Kenzie, who carefully snapped it into place. Her hands were so small, Gabby thought. With tiny fingers. Sometimes it was hard to imagine the girls would grow into adults in just a few years. While part of her looked forward to watching the evolution, she had to admit, having them stay her girls forever would be kind of nice.

“Anybody home?”

The question came from downstairs. The three of them looked at each other before the twins shrieked in unison and headed for the stairs. Gabby followed, wondering what brought Andrew home at three o’clock on a Wednesday.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Gabby walked into the kitchen to find Andrew holding a twin in each arm. He smiled at her.

“My afternoon meeting got canceled, so I headed home.”

She walked over and kissed him, then took Kennedy from him and set her on the floor. “It’s a very nice surprise.”

“I like surprises,” Kennedy said.

“Me, too,” her twin agreed.

Andrew winked. “Some surprises are very nice.” He loosened his tie. “I thought I’d take the girls with me. We’ll go pick up Makayla and grab dinner. Does that work for you?”

He was offering her an evening alone, to do whatever she wanted. A gift as rare as a natural blue diamond.

“That would be amazing,” she admitted. What to do first? A nap? Read? A bath? If she took a bath, she could also read and have a glass of wine. Talk about heaven.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” Andrew lowered Kenzie to the floor, then picked up his briefcase from the counter. “Oh, I almost forgot. This weekend the new wheelbarrows are being unveiled.” He frowned. “Revealed. Whatever it’s called. We should go see them.”

The twins clapped their hands together, then danced around him.

“Can we?” Kennedy asked.

“We want to go,” her twin added.

The wheelbarrows were an interesting tradition in Mischief Bay. When the town had first been founded, criminals—mostly drunks—had been transported to jail in wheelbarrows. In the past ten years, they’d become a tradition in town. They were a fun charity moneymaker. People bid on the chance to decorate a wheelbarrow for a year. Gabby had first met Andrew at a fund-raiser for the wheelbarrows.

She’d been young—only a few months out of law school. She’d spotted him right away. He’d been talking with a group of people, engaged in their conversation, but also watching her.