Page 6 of Book Club Confidential

“On it,” Kate assured.

“Thanks. This promotion feels like the only thing I’ve thought about since Xavier announced it. Being named VP of accounts could put me in line for partner one day. Do you know how incredible that would be? This promotion could set me up to run my own marketing firm. Now I just have to wait and hope that Xavier and I are on the same page.”

“I can’t believe the gala is on a work night,” Hallie said. “How are all those nine-to-fivers supposed to enjoy themselves and get to work on time the next morning?”

“They don’t,” Tessa said. “It’s widely accepted to roll in late the next day.”

“Speaking of big events and planning,” Kate said, “when are the invites for your wedding going out?”

“Soon,” Hallie said. “I accidentally bought a roll of postcard stamps instead of regular ones.”

Kate’s thin brow puckered. “Last time we talked about this, you ordered ivory envelopes instead of white.”

Hallie nodded. “True. I got the new ones, then goofed the stamps. How was I supposed to know the doves were for postcards? Who sends postcards anymore?”

“Everyone?” Kate asked.

Tessa didn’t mail postcards, but she did know Hallie, and she was definitely dragging her feet sending the invites. And it was precariously close to the big day. As she was a staunch avoider of conflict, the stamp and envelope mishaps felt a lot like Hallie waving a big red flag. She was the queen of avoidance, and Kate was right to prod. Unfortunately, the only thing Hallie hated more than conflict was someone offering help unbidden, and Tessa preferred pleasing her friends to irritating them. So she sat back and sipped her drink, then set it aside while the discussion went nowhere.

A moment later, she felt the distant rumble of thunder.

The table vibrated, and Bryce’s number appeared on Hallie’s phone screen. She swiped the call away.

It was monumentally unfair that Hallie had a fiancé she didn’t seem to want, while Kate longed for a partner she couldn’t seem to find. All three friends wanted things that felt completely beyond their control, so far out of their reach they might as well be in different universes. Thank heavens for books, Tessa supposed. Books were the one place they reliably found satisfaction, escape, and joy.

It was too bad they were real people rather than the heroines in novels. Real people generally couldn’t afford to take huge risks or let go of a sure thing for the chance at something better.

“You know,” Tessa said softly, “I read somewhere that when you’re someplace you aren’t meant to be, there will be signs. We can choose to ignore the signs and dig in awhile longer, but eventually, the universe will make it impossible to stay.”

“Are you talking about me?” Hallie asked.

Was she? She’d thought so at first. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m talking to all of us.”

Kate tore her gaze from the attractive barkeep and tossed thick blond waves over her shoulder. “Maybe I’m in the wrong universe.”

Another flash of lightning streaked across the sky, and the fine hairs on the back of Tessa’s neck rose to attention. “I wish we could be the heroines in our lives,” she said. “And I wish that our lives were our favorite stories.”

Kate offered a small smile. “Me too.”

Hallie snorted. “Unfortunately, we’re just not that lucky. We get one life, and this is it.”

Tessa opened her mouth to say something more, but whatever was brewing in her heart and mind fell silent as electricity charged the air.

A bone-jarring clap of thunder turned her thoughts and eyes heavenward. Then the sky opened, and rain poured over them, drinks, appetizers, and all.

Chapter Two

Tessa arrived at work the next morning with book club on her mind. She’d spent a sleepless night hoping the sudden downpour that had interrupted their meeting and driven them inside wasn’t some kind of cosmic warning. So far, the new day was right on track, but she had a strange itching at the back of her mind, and she couldn’t seem to let go of the storm’s unexpected surge. Especially given its timing.

Maybe it was how they’d responded that bothered her most, far more than the rain itself. An unexpected rooftop soaker was the kind of experience that would’ve ended in fits of stunned laughter a few years prior. Last night, however, they’d just given up and gone home, too exhausted by life to see the disruption as anything other than par for the course.

They’d texted to confirm everyone made it home safely. Then each woman had eaten leftovers from her fridge, put on pajamas, and called it a night without protest.

Hallie’s final message deemed the evening “a series of supreme bummers.”

She wasn’t wrong. But when had they all lost their oomph and given up their fight?

Hopefully, the storm, her ruined girls’ night, and her mediocre dinner weren’t the real-world equivalent to foreshadowing. Or some sort of cosmic introduction of more supreme bummers to come. The loss of a major account, for example, or impossibly longer work hours following her promotion. If the latter came true, she’d have to move into the office full-time. But at least that would save on rent.