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“Oh, he does his own tax returns.” She waved a hand. “It’s like a hobby for him. A way to unwind. Kind of like sudoku or six-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzles.”
I studied her with a tilt of my head, still confused. “Why are you here?”
Translation: If someone made a mess downstairs that needs urgent cleaning, I might strangle them.
I was off-duty. It was almost eight-thirty.
“What do you mean, why? Isn’t it obvious?” She treated herself to a sponge cake off the tray, her light eyes twinkling with warmth. “Everyone else downstairs is a total bore.”
I bit down a smile.
I really liked Dallas, even if I felt like I shouldn’t.
Everyone in town knew she’d grown up rich. That she spent summers in Europe, waltzed at balls in Georgia, and rubbed elbows with people whose annual tax returns I couldn’t count the zeros on.
She had every opportunity to be exactly like Tabby and Reggie—a rich, spoiled brat. We shared nothing in common—no mutual interests, friends, likes, and dislikes.
And yet, I knew a loyal friend when I stumbled upon one.
Dallas reached for a donut hole, popping it inside her mouth. “The way you answered that dudebro at dinner the other day? Legendary. Finding women with a spine on this side of the river is hard. It’s like Air Force One flew by and sucked the personality out of everyone.”
“Thanks.” I regarded her with interest, still puzzled, and pointed at the tray at my hip. “Is this for me?”
Dallas released a joyous, addictive laugh. “Oh, yes.”
I admired the rays of sunshine emanating from her.
She struck me as the kind of person who could burn down the entire place if you rubbed her the wrong way, but also light up a room.
I dug her vibe.
She snuck another pastry. “I figured I’d make you a sample platter with all the stuff worthy of eating. I took it upon myself to test everything first. True friend, or what?”
“Total bestie,” I murmured.
“I’m a ride-or-die kind of chick.” She grabbed her tiny Hermès purse and tugged something out of it. “Hey, I made us those friendshipbracelets.” A small plastic bag landed on my lap. She dangled an identical one, the beaded circle waving as she jiggled it. “No judgment, please. Being heavily pregnant is super boring. I had to cancel bungee jumping in New Zealand last week. Can you believe how overprotective Rom is?”
A small smile played on my lips. “Unheard of.”
I couldn’t believe she’d made me laugh on a day I felt so freaking sorry for myself.
When I didn’t make a move, she snatched the bag from me, pulled out the purple-green Swiftie bracelet (she’d remembered our conversation), and slid it up my wrist, thrusting hers beside me.
They matched. Our names winked back at us from cheap plastic beads. It looked ridiculous among her otherwise head-to-toe luxury brands.
I snatched a spam musubi, unwrapping the film. “What are you having?”
“Probably the steak and fries.” She heaved a sigh. “I mean, the sushi downstairs looks so good, it should be downright illegal, but I can’t eat raw fish right now.”
“I’m talking about your pregnancy.”
“Oh. A girl, I hope. I’m willing it into the universe.” Dallas’ face lit up. “Rom says he’s worried about being outnumbered. But I say he’s always been outnumbered. I have multiple personalities, depending on my mood and what time of the month it is.”
“You’re going to make an amazing mother.”
I meant it.
“I’m going to try my best.” She smiled. “If there’s one thing I learned from my own mother, it’s that you need to teach your daughter to be powerful enough to protect herself.”
