Page 195 of Bridesmaid Undercover
“Just give it some thought.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to get romantically involved with someone we work with?”
“I don’t,” he says. “But I’ve also never seen you like this before, and it makes me feel uneasy. Makes me think there’s more there than I thought.” He grips the doorjamb. “I don’twant to be the one who stands in the way of a real relationship.” Then with that, he takes off. When the door clicks shut, I exhale sharply and bury my head in my hands.
What a fucking mess.
I don’t know what to fucking do.
Of course I have to work closely with her on another party. Why wouldn’t I have to do that? Because that seems to be my shit luck.
And what’s going to suck about that is that I’m going to have to act like everything is fucking fine between us when I know goddamn well it’s not. She’ll probably put on her professional face and work through the details because that’s what she’s good at. But me, I’m not good at masking that shit. I’m going to want to talk to her. Explain what happened, try to convince her that I wasn’t trying to use her, that I really was telling her the truth. If only she would listen to me.
I know nothing could come of this, that if we talk and she does believe me, it’s not like we can go back to that night, but I don’t know, maybe we can go back to being friends because after this weekend, fuck, do I miss talking to her.
I miss her text messages.
Her emails.
Her smile.
Fuck…maybe I should talk to Haisley.
Maybe I could plead with her.
And if I’m a lucky motherfucker, maybe I’ll get the chance I want.
But if Haisley says no, then maybe I can at least have a small piece of Everly. Maybe I could have my friend back.
I grab my phone and shoot off a text.
Hardy:Hey Haisley, you free to meet up? I need to talk to you about something.
“Hey, sis,”I say as I pull Haisley into a hug before I follow her into her house.
She and Jude share a quaint bungalow on the top of a hill, offering them a view of the bay. They’re in the middle of renovations, so there are tarps hanging from doorways and painting tools gathered in a corner, but I know once they’re done, it’s going to be the perfect starter home.
“Hey,” Haisley says. “Come on to the backyard and out of this dust-covered house.”
I follow her to the back where the living room opens up completely to the backyard. Ten-foot bushes flank both sides of the yard while the back overlooks the beauty of the bay. The bushes cut them off from their neighbors, affording them a great deal of privacy, despite how close the other houses are, and the view offers them tranquility. I know it’s one of the reasons they loved the space so much, that and the charming characteristics of the bungalow style.
Since I’ve been here, they’ve updated the pool with a new liner, added more foliage, and some new outdoor furniture. There’s no doubt in my mind that this is where they escape to.
“Place looks great, Hais,” I say as I take a seat at their outdoor dining table. Being the ultimate host, she has set out some drinks, pretzels, and hummus.
“Thank you. It’s a work in progress and has been slower to come together given Jude is working all day on the other properties and I refuse to make him work overtime. But that’s okay, we kind of enjoy the chaos.”
“You’re a good wife,” I say, not trying to butter her up, but you know, never hurts.
She grins at me, seeing right through my comment. “Uh-huh, and what exactly did you say you wanted to talk about?”
I point to the lemonade on the table. “Is that lemonade up for grabs?”
“Are you nervous—is that why you need it?” she asks with a smirk.
“No.” I awkwardly laugh and then touch my throat. “Just a little parched.”
“Uh-huh.” Seeing right through me, she shakes her head and pours us each a glass of lemonade. When she hands me my glass, she sits back and crosses one leg over the other. “So, Hardy, why did you need to come and talk to me?”
