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When I finally take a deep breath, tears are running down my face. My stomach muscles ache. My face is frozen in a most unattractive expression, I’m sure. But I don’t care. That felt damn good.* * *“Ally!” Lindsey rushes to me across the lobby of the resort and pulls me in for a tight hug. “I don’t know what the hell’s been going on, but you’ve got some ‘splaining to do.”
“I know.” I hug her and then step back. “But first thing’s first. My name isn’t Ally. It’s Elena.”
Lindsey frowns and then takes my hand and leads me toward the bar. “I think we need drinks before you say any more.”
“Good idea.”
We choose a booth in the corner where we’ll have some privacy, and once our martinis are sitting in front of us, Lindsey takes a breath.
“Okay. Start from the beginning.”
And so, I do. It feels amazing to finally be able to tell my best friend everything, from being with Archer in high school to our separation, then about my parents’ deaths, and everything that happened after.
“How didn’t I recognize you?” she wonders as she takes the last sip of her drink. “I used to love watching the gossip on your family.”
“I was never in the spotlight much. I’m an introvert by nature, and I always stayed out of trouble.”
“Well, it makes sense.”
“What does?”
“That day at the diner when your grandmother’s death was on the news, and you flew out of there like a bat out of hell. And Archer—who I like, by the way. He’s nice, and he’s hot.”
“I know.” I grin, enjoying being with my friend again. “I’m sorry I had to lie to you for so long.”
“I’m just sorry that you had to at all. But I’m so glad that it’s over for you. Have you already talked to your job?”
“Yeah, I was just there. Margie cried.” I feel my eyes fill with tears at the mention of it. “She’d been worried, and she’s sad that I have to quit. Archer and I will live in Seattle full-time, but we’re keeping his house here. So, you’re not getting rid of me. I’ll be back to visit and check in on you.”
“Damn straight, I’m not losing you,” she says. “I’ll come visit up there, too. I love the city and don’t get to shop nearly often enough. I have a ton of vacation time coming.”
“We can meet up in Portland sometimes, too,” I suggest.
“Absolutely.” She signals to the bartender that we want two more drinks. “What are you going to do with your house?”
“Sell it.”
Her eyes get big. “Really? Would you be willing to sell it to me?”
I tilt my head to the side. “I didn’t know you were looking to buy a house.”
“I wasn’t, but I love your place. It’s so cute and close enough to the water that you can walk to the beach, but not too close to make it worth millions.” She grins happily and then deflates. “Wait. Unless you are planning to sell it for millions.”
“No.” I nod at the bartender when he delivers our drinks. He doesn’t even look my way. He only has eyes for Lindsey. But she doesn’t spare him a glance. When he walks away and is out of earshot, I pounce. “What’s going on there?”
“What? Nothing. I don’t know what you mean.”
She sips her drink, trying to be nonchalant.
“Bullshit. Spill it.”
“There’s nothing to spill.”
I sit back in the booth and cross my arms over my chest, giving her the liar, liar, pants on fire look.
“Okay.” She leans in and holds her hand up to the side of her face in case he can hear us from fifty feet away. “I slept with him last weekend. I was lonely and feeling a little needy and totally did him. And now, he’s the needy one.”
I press my lips together, trying not to laugh. “He’s pretty hot. Was the sex bad?”
“No, it was good.”
“Then why are you ignoring him?”
“Because he failed to mention to me until after I’d had my third orgasm that he’s married.”
I gasp and glare at the douche canoe behind the bar. He glances our way, and I flip him off.
“Ally!”
“Elena,” I reply. “And I’m not sorry. Cheating asshole.”
“I already sent an email to his wife just before I met with you today. So, his home life is about to really suck.”
“He deserves it. I hope she chops off his balls. What a jerk.”
“Oh, he’s totally a jerk. He didn’t understand why I was so pissed-off. He said the relationship sucks, and they’re probably going to get divorced anyway, so what did it matter? I did manage to slam his fingers in the door when I left, and he tried to run after me.”
“Attagirl.” I clink my glass to hers.
“Okay, I have a question,” she says, already changing the subject. “Like I said before, your family has always been interesting to me. But what’s Rocco like? He’s always so stern and mysterious in photos.”
