“Hey!” Blake hugged both of them. “It’s so good to meet you.”
“You too!” Emerie grinned widely. “I love your hair.”
“Thanks.” Blake slid into the booth. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Emerie waved a hand. “Girl, please. I know how it is.”
As if they’d known each other for years, my sister and my…friendfell into a conversation about curl patterns and keratin treatments, only pausing to place their food orders.
Picking at her hair, Emerie said, “I miss the salon. I haven’t been to one since I recognized my ex-boyfriend’s dick on someone’s smartphone.”
I nearly choked on my beer. “Really?”
“That was you?” Blake asked. “Kerry is my stylist too. She’d squeezed me in that day. I heard the whole thing.”
Emerie cracked up. “I was so embarrassed, Kerry started doing my hair at my house. I guess those are the perks of having a best friend who’s one of the best hairstylists in the city. I still haven’t found a stylist I like in LA.”
Blake sipped her water. “Well, you shouldn’t be embarrassed. Men are full of shit. I’m just glad he’s yourex-boyfriend.”
I glanced at Vaughn, who was watching the two of them segue into a conversation about trifling men and messed-up relationships.
“What do you do?” Emerie asked after another round of drinks arrived.
“I’m a relationship therapist.”
“She’s The Breakup Expert,” I added.
Emerie’s mouth fell open. “Wait, you’re Blake Young? I read your article.”
Blake nodded. “Yeah.”
“You’re out here changing lives, Blake. Shit, have you told Kerry to leave that fool she’s been dealing with alone?”
Rolling her eyes, Blake said, “I been telling her. I’m not too worried, though, because it’s not that serious for her. She keeps telling me she’s holding out for her friend’s…brother.” Pointing at me, Blake asked, “Is that you?”
“Yikes,” Emerie whispered, sinking down in her seat a little.
It was no secret my sister’s best friend had harbored feelings for me, but nothing had ever happened between us.
“Yeah, it is,” Vaughn offered.
Blake eyed me, a smile on her lips. “Interesting.”
Leaning in, I whispered, “What have you heard?”
She pulled away, batting her eyelashes. “You’ll never know. Stylist-client confidentiality.”
Dinner arrived a few minutes later, and we settled into safer talk about sports and travel. Over near the bar, I noticed a man staring at the table and wondered if I knew him. More time passed and every time I glanced up, that same guy was watching us. I wasn’t a paranoid person, but after my interaction earlier, I considered that maybe he was following me trying to get some sort of evidence of wrongdoing.
Just when I was ready to confront him, he stood and walked over to us. But instead of addressing me, he called Blake’s name.
She stiffened next to me. “Colton? What are you doing here?”
“I saw you sitting here looking stunning and figured I’d come say hi.”
“And you really interrupted my dinner?”
“Maybe when you’re finished, we can talk,” Colton said. “Get a drink?”
