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Just as Brad bowls in. “Jesus Christ, Rose.” He swings away, and Beau is off again, laughing. I grimace, throwing her another dirty look. I cannot wait for her to have all these problems.
“Sorry,” I grumble, fixing myself. “It’s safe now, Brad.” Anyone would think he’s not seen a breast in his life, and we all know that’s not true. I bet he’s seen the most of all the men—every shape, size, and variety. Beau slips onto a stool next to me and hands over an orange juice.
“You look smart today,” she says, swigging, eyes on Brad’s suited form as he braves facing the room. I’m pleasantly surprised. Not that Brad doesn’t always look smart, but his sallow skin seems brighter. Did he actually get some sleep last night?
Splitting his attention between the two of us, he raises his brows, amused by our close inspection.
“What?” I ask, laughing. “It’s just an observ—” My words stall when someone walks in behind him. A woman. Smart. Tall. Sexy as hell.
“This is Allison,” Brad says, all casual, like this isn’t fucking weird. “Allison, Rose and Beau.” He walks past us, leaving us staring like goldfish at the woman on the threshold of the kitchen. Speechless. So this is who was in his bathroom the other morning when Beau walked in?
“Hi,” Allison says, approaching, holding her hand out to Beau first. “Lovely to meet you.” Beau shakes, before Allison offers it to me. I take it limply and let her do all the shaking. Her smile is bright. Her makeup perfect. Not a hair on her head out of place. Yes, she’s pure power in a woman, but that aside, what the hell is she doing in the house?
“Pleasure,” I say, returning her smile. “I love your jacket.” I gesture to the cream tailored piece with impressive shoulder pads and beautiful gold buttons.
“Oh, thanks. Armani, I think. Or Vivian. I forget.” She smiles, friendly, and brushes the front down.
“What do you do, Allison?” I look over my shoulder to see Brad at the coffee machine, him looking back too, interested, smiling. I have not a fucking clue what to make of this, and judging by Beau’s wide eyes and shocked face, she doesn’t either. She lifts her green juice to her lips, her attention fixed on the beauty before us, as wowed as I am.
“I’m an attorney.”
Beau snorts, sending green slop shooting out of her nose, and my cheeks balloon, not just at the state of Beau, but . . . an attorney? Is this real? “Oh cool,” I say like a chump. “Criminal or family law?”
Allison frowns at Beau. “Criminal.”
Another cough from Beau, and I want the ground to swallow us both whole. “I’m so sorry,” Beau says, holding up her juice. “This is really sharp.”
“Looks . . . appetizing.” Allison turns her frown onto the green slop.
“It’s actually not bad.” Beau gets herself together. “My husband insists.”
“Beau’s pregnant,” Brad says, joining us, nodding at Beau’s stomach, prompting Beau to feel at her tummy on a smile.
A criminal attorney?
“Oh, congratulations.” Allison beams at Beau.
“And Rose recently gave birth,” he adds.
“Oh, you noticed that?” I ask seriously, earning a narrowed eye from Brad. What is this, speed friending?
“Oh, how wonderful,” Allison says. “Boy or girl?”
“Girl. Maggie. She’s a month, and my son is fourteen.”
“Wow, you don’t look old enough.”
I smile, an edge of sadness to it, inevitably. “Unfortunately, I am.”
“Come on,” Brad says, collecting Allison’s elbow, obviously eager to get her away from us. Then why the hell did he bring her here in the first place? This isn’t how Brad does things. He fucks in hotel rooms, usually hookers, albeit high-class hookers, and Allison clearly isn’t a hooker. She’s a fucking attorney. “I’ll walk you out to the cab.”
“It was lovely meeting you,” Allison says, letting Brad lead her away.
“And you,” Beau and I sing in unison.
“What the hell has Brad told her he does for a living?” Beau whispers.
I shrug. I’m stumped. “Maybe they don’t do much talking.”
