Page 527 of Manhattan Bossholes

“We wanted to chat with you about…well, about everything. So much has happened, and we need to make sure that we’re all on the same page,” Bernie said as she rearranged the flatware by her plate. “And I figured we could have some fun with the clothing once we’ve finished. I’m sure your creative mind will be spinning once we start diving into the garment bags!”

“Hello, hello!” a voice echoed from behind us. “Are we cheers-ing yet?”

Kathleen appeared, looking tan and pretty in wide-legged jeans and a simple back top.

“You’re late but also just in time,” Bernie scolded. “Sit.”

Kathleen leaned down to kiss both of Bernie’s cheeks, then strode over to me to do the same.

A waiter appeared out of nowhere and poured three glasses of red wine.

“Oh, I shouldn’t drink,” I demurred. “I still have so much to do this afternoon.”

“Nonsense. A few sips won’t put you under the table, will it?”

I shook my head.

“Then enjoy!”

Bernie raised her glass to toast. “This is to you, my dear. For so many reasons.”

We touched glasses, but it still didn’t feel like a celebration.

“First,” Bernie continued, “Kathleen and I both want to thank you for being a part of Christopher’s life. You thought you were asking him for help, but the fact that he felt needed ended up helping him enormously. I don’t think you even realize all you did to help him come out of his shell and live again. Now, obviously things took a turn, but he’s in a much better state of mind now. Have you spoken with him lately?”

I shook my head again and fiddled with the wineglass. “I figured it was better to, uh, give him some time.”

I didn’t want to mention that I’d cut off all contact with any Bransons outside of work.

“Well, he’s doing wonderfully. He’s making all sorts of positive changes and we’re so proud of him,” Kathleen added. “Now, his brother, on the other hand…”

My stomach seized up at the mention of James. How did I know we were going to get to him eventually?

Bernie drained her glass. “I’m terribly disappointed in him. The way he acted with Heidi at the show.” She shuddered. “I know he says it’s all for publicity, but where do we draw the line? At a certain point he needs to stop living for Branson Designs and start living for James Branson.”

I raised an eyebrow in response. I wasn’t sure how candid I could be with her.

“Now, I’m aware things ended badly between you,” she continued. “I don’t know the details, but he did tell me that you’re no longer together. And that breaks my heart.”

Bernie wasn’t the only one left with a fractured heart.

She frowned at me and reached across the table to give my hand a squeeze. The simple gesture made my eyes fill with tears.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, frowning harder. “I’m so sorry.”

I sniffled and nodded, afraid to open my mouth until the shaky feelings passed.

“I’m okay,” I finally said in a strong voice. “I’m too busy to even think about it.”

I laughed but it sounded hollow. Both Bernie and Kathleen scrutinized me like they could tell I was lying.

“Speaking of being busy, that’s the other thing we wanted to discuss with you.”

The waiter came back out pushing a cart with three dome-covered plates on it. I was dreading the reveal of some sort of tiny, fancy haute cuisine beneath them. I was starving—I needed real food.

“Dig in, ladies,” Bernie said as she lifted the dome.

The unmistakable aroma of garlic wafted towards me. I removed the dome and was relieved to find the world’s biggest mound of pasta on my plate.