Page 39 of All Mixed Up

So I laughed instead.

Not a lot. Just enough to lighten my friends before stating, “Gigi…honey…that’s a fun thought, but Lucien and I aren’t anything like Nico and you.”

Her laugh mellowed into a smile. The warmth jumped into an extended wink—just before she drawled, “Uh-huh. Sure thing, honey.”

Leese threw up both hands. “All right, so maybe he’s not Mr. Right for her. But I think we all agree that he’s Mr. Right Now, yes?”

“Yes!”

As Gigi took her turn to applaud, I muttered, “Whatever.” And then copied Leese, raising my hands. “Fine. Yes. Mrs. Rocca for the win.”

“At least for now.” Leese offered the concession with her hands perched on the edge of her desk, still looking like a tigress ready to pounce. “That’s subject to change, once we get the man’s answer about his crazy mixed signals. You deserve a full, honest answer about the intimacy whiplash, Juls.”

“Same page,” Gigi piped in.

I pushed my lips into a fresh twist. “Preaching to the choir, sister. But how do I get the monk to talk?” And if I was lucky, maybe he’d toss some extra features into that package.

Leese shot her hands back up. “You’re asking the wrong gal-pal here. I’m oh-for-three in the last year, and fuck buddies is where it’ll stay with the two I have now.” She swept one of those hands toward her monitor. “Annnd take it away, Miss I-snagged-my-soulmate!”

Gigi chuckled while shaking her head, but again sobered fast. She leaned in to emphasize her answer. “All the yuk-yuks aside, you really have to talk to him, Juls.” She jabbed a finger at her camera. “You getting this? You have to talk to him.”

I compressed my lips. “We haven’t exactly been marinating in silence together, okay?”

“You know what I mean,” she stressed. “There’s talking and then there’s talking.” She softened that slice with a small smile. “It’s not my business to know details of what happened a week ago, but clearly you two were playing hopscotch and you threw a few markers outside the lines.” She leaned back a little. “I might be wrong, but Lucien Paget may simply be a guy who doesn’t know how to hop outside the lines.”

I refilled my wine and then took a thoughtful sip. The buzz was mellowing into bizarre clarity for my brain. Then again, maybe it wasn’t the wine at all. Maybe it was a bottle of awesome known as Gigi Proust. “So to win the game, I’ve got to break the rules?”

“No.” Gigi ended the chastisement by pushing air through her nose. “To save the game, you’ve got to step outside the boundaries.” She swallowed deeply. “Probably starting with your own.”

I didn’t try to hide my fresh huff. “Been there done that and have ordered the T-shirt, okay?”

“Have you?” And once more, she was cocking that perfect auburn brow like the scalpel she clearly presumed to have in my brain.

A new huff, with twice the force. “Gigi—”

“Or have you given him just the basics?”

“Gigi.”

Leese tilted her head and mellowed her expression. Shit. When Leese got gooey, I knew I was in trouble. “I’m sorry, Ju-Ju Bee.” And when she used my junior high nickname, I was in a lot of trouble. “She’s kind of right. You are good at sticking to the basics.”

I answered them with a sulking silence. As it passed, I chewed on my lips and guzzled on my wine. But damn it, the juicy Cabernet wasn’t bringing any more clarity for any of my thoughts.

Except for one.

What if they’re right?

And what if that meant I had to consider gashing open more emotional veins for Lucien?

And if I did, what would that even mean? Or accomplish?

Except the impossible.

That if I opened up more, he would too. That maybe my bravery would inspire his. That maybe, because he’d already seen so much of my personal brand of craziness, he’d be okay with the rest. That he’d even understand the rest. The insecurity about my value as a daughter, a woman. The uncertainty about my decisions, professionally and personally. The hesitancies about trusting men…but the loneliness that had become acute, in this city so many miles from home.

The city I’d sworn wouldn’t get to me.

The man I swore I wouldn’t fall for.