Page 6 of Making Over Maris

Chapter Two

“Hey.” Kat Hart, the company’s accountant and Sara’s best friend, poked her head into Sara’s office after lunch, conveniently interrupting a dismal moping session.

Todd still hadn’t called.

She needed to stop thinking about him.

Sara arranged her lips into a configuration she hoped would pass for a smile. “Hey there. How’d the fitting go?”

Kat made a face and threw herself into one of the chairs on the far side of Sara’s desk. Her crisp blouse was rumpled and her usually prim honey-colored bun was askew. “Getting married is a pain.”

Sara swallowed the lump in her throat. Or maybe it was bile. She had no business being annoyed whenever Kat complained about the wedding preparations. She should be happy for her. Delirious. But for some reason lately, whenever she saw her friend coming she wanted to run and hide.

“Tristan and Shannon managed it with no hassle.” This she said in a playful tone. But it cost her.

Fortunately Kat took the red herring. “I am not eloping,” she said. “Besides, they had to hurry.”

Sara turned her phone over so she couldn’t see the screen. “They had nine months.”

“I’m not eloping.” Kat faked a shudder. “For one thing, my mother would kill me.”

“So would Elaine.”

Kat barked a laugh. “Oh, God. I didn’t think about that. If both her sons eloped?”

“There would be a bloodletting.” Sara sighed. “I guess you have to resign yourself to fittings.”

“And flowers and cake tasting and wedding planners…”

“And mothers-in-law.” Sara nodded. It was conversation. Small talk. But it was a distraction. And welcome. The pressure had been building inside her for the past day or so, the frustration and hopelessness and anger at men. All men. A friendly chat about Kat’s troubles was precisely what she needed. “How is she taking all of this, by the way?”

“Elaine? She’s over the moon.”

“Yeah. She would be. It’s always been her dream to have her sons leg-shackled.” Elaine Trillo, the matriarch of the family, had never made that a secret.

Kat nodded and smoothed out her skirt. “And she’s always hankered after grandkids.” The way Kat said those words caught Sara’s attention. A shard of pain sliced through her.

“Grandkids? As in kids?” Shannon was out-to-here pregnant but there had never been any scuttlebutt that Adam and Kat were planning a family. “Is there…something you want to tell me?”

Kat pinkened and then shot a glance over her shoulder. She got up and closed the door. “Nothing is certain yet.” She nibbled her way through a tentative smile. “But I’m late.”

“Oh my God.” Ouch. Yeah. Definitely jealousy. Scalding, roiling, pounding, agonizing envy. “How late?”

“A month. I haven’t told Adam.”

“Oh. My. God.” Sara struggled to remember what a friend was supposed to say in a situation like this but her brain wasn’t working. All she could see was green. “Um. Congratulations.”

Kat chuckled. “It’s not for certain but I wanted, needed, to tell someone, and Sara, you’re my best friend in the world. I wanted you to be the very first to know.”

Why tears pricked her lashes, Sara had no clue. Surely it wasn’t the warring guilt and resentment and misery swirling in her breast. To cover all that—she would be horrified if Kat noticed any of those emotions on her face—she stood and gave her friend a hug.

It was supposed to be a short hug but for some reason she couldn’t let go.

And for some reason she began to cry.

And for some reason the tears became sobs. Great, wrenching, gasping sobs.

Which was mortifying.