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“You’re coming as my plus one,” I tell her. “Is that still a thing people say?”

“I haven’t finished the story yet.”

“Well, this isn’t a date.”

Molly gives me a skeptical look. “But you wanted me to bring a swimsuit?”

I shrug. “There’s an indoor pool and hot tub.”

“I haven’t worn a swimsuit in forever. I don’t even own one.”

Deciding to drop the swimsuit thing, for now, I ask, “How’s Mr. Darcy?”

“He’s good. We had to coax him down the stairs with treats to get him to go potty the entire day after he got lost because he was afraid to go outside.”

“Poor guy.”

“Gram fed him almost half a meatloaf. He’s a happy boy.”

Molly just shines when she talks about her dog. I love seeing that side of her.

“Luca and Abby are stupid rich,” I tell her. “Just remember the rest of us don’t live like they do.”

“Oh, so you’re just a regular millionaire?” she teases.

“Touché.” I smile sheepishly.

“There’s no way I can remember everyone’s name,” she says.

“Don’t worry, no one cares about that.”

She looks at me, but then looks away.

“What?” I ask her.

“I was wondering if you went home for Christmas this past year.”

I furrow my brow, confused. “That’s random. It was a month ago.”

“I know. But did you?”

“No, I spent Christmas with some patients at the Chicago Children’s Hospital.”

“Oh.”

“There were two kids there who had no family, can you believe that? Foster kids. The little boy smoked me at every video game we played, and the girl talked nonstop about Taylor Swift.”

She smiles. “Did you miss your family?”

“Nah. My parents have a condo in Hilton Head, and Sara and Lance went there to see them.”

“And you said Lance is married, right?”

“Yep, he and his wife Cara have three kids.”

Molly gives me a strange look. “Did you know Cara before she and Lance got together?”

“No, they met in college. Why?”

“No reason.”

She takes out her phone, her lips set in a tense line as she looks at it.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“Yeah, I’m just checking the Gazette website. I have a big story coming out and it should hit the web anytime now.”

“Oh yeah? What’s it about?”

“An alderman using his city credit card at a strip club.”

My eyes bulge. “Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

“He must not be the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

She shrugs. “Apparently he was really, really drunk. He said he accidentally grabbed the wrong card.”

“I guess it could happen.”

“It could, but if it did, he should have reimbursed the city for what he spent. He never did.”

“Oh wow. And you’re the first one with the story?”

“Yeah. He’s gonna shit his pants when he reads it.” She gives me a panicked look. “Hey, don’t tell anyone about it yet, okay? I really shouldn’t have mentioned it until it hits the website.”

“I won’t say a word.”

I follow the directions my maps app gives me to Luca and Abby’s place, and it takes us down a long, private driveway lined with trees.

“Oh my God, that’s their house?” Molly says, eyeing the sprawling brick mansion.

“Pretty sweet,” I say, parking in the horseshoe-shaped driveway.

Their last house was enormous and beautiful, but their family is growing. They’re got five kids now, and they didn’t have room for a pool where they were. They had this house built to last them until their kids are all grown.

Molly and I are equally awestruck when Luca opens the front door. The open entryway is massive, with stone flooring and an open staircase with a hand-carved railing. We don’t get much time to admire the house, though, because Porter yells my name as soon as he hears my voice.

“What’s up?” I say, giving him a back-slapping hug as we walk into the huge family room.

“Hey, Molly,” Easy says. “Good to see you again.”

“Thanks, you too.”

Several kids fly through the room on roller skates, one of them holding onto a rope attached to a laundry basket that’s tied to the top of a skateboard, a dog riding in the laundry basket.

“Don’t run over any babies!” Abby admonishes as they pass.

People are introducing themselves to Molly and Victor’s trying to rope me into a conversation about which team was the best ever. To make sure I don’t get separated from Molly, I take her hand. She squeezes my hand and I feel her apprehension.

“We’re gonna go take a look at the pool,” I say to the women talking to Molly.

“Get in if you guys want,” Abby says. “There are towels in the big closet in the pool bathroom.”

“Molly didn’t bring a suit, so she may have to skinny-dip,” I say, winking at her.

“There’s a basket in the closet where the towels are with my suits in it,” Abby says to Molly. “Take whichever you want; we’re the same size.”

“Daddy, what’s skinny-dip?” I hear a little voice asking.

“Time to go,” I say, tugging on Molly’s hand.

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