Page 56 of Set Play

“You need to talk to him, Éllie,” she says. “You know, you can’t keep avoiding him. You’re literally supposed to be dating.”

I focus all my attention on my plate, watching raptly as my fork pierces the poached egg. I don’t love the sight of yolk oozing out over everything, even if it tastes delicious, but anything is better than meeting her penetrating gaze.

I know if I look up into her knowing hazel eyes, I’ll break. Truth is, I want to talk to him. I want to have more nights like the one at the hotel. But that’s exactly why I can’t.

I need to remind myself of what happened between him and Henri and apparently, I need to remind Niamh, too. “Nim, you know that it can only ever be fake between us.” I cast a quick glance around the cafe and keep my voice low.

“It doesn’t matter how good the sex was or how sweet he was to me before and after. I have to remember what he put Henri through. I just…I have to.” My voice breaks off into a sigh.

“Élise.” She hesitates, which is unusual enough that my eyes jump to hers. “You know I love you, and I know how much you love Henri, but did you ever think maybe there’s more to the story? Like something that you don’t know.”

My eyes narrow in suspicion. What the hell? I know she’s always found something weird about his story, but that sounded more confident than usual.

Before I can press for more information, she redirects the conversation. “Anyway, what exactly is this animal event that you are attending, and why is it such a ‘good publicity op?’”

Her weird imitation of a guy’s voice as she air quotes the last words has me snorting right as I take a sip of my mimosa. Which leads to said mimosa detouring from its intended path down my esophagus and up my nose.

Tears fill my eyes from the burn of the citrus and alcohol in my sinuses, and I choke on a cough. Niamh’s eyes widen in shock before she nearly falls out of her chair. Not in concern, of course, but in laughter.

The signs of a true friend, folks.

By the time I recover from my attempted nasal-based mimosa launch, my sinuses are thoroughly cleansed, and I gain the attention of at least three other tables. “You suck,” I hiss at Niamh under my breath. “I could’ve died, you know.”

“Can you imagine your eulogy if you died from snorting a mimosa?” She cackles. Literally cackles. Like an evil witch.

My lips twitch upward, but I fight to keep them pressed in a firm scowl. Niamh waits until my resolve falters and the smile starts to peer through before returning to her previous question. “So, the animal event?”

“It’s an adoption event. What about that is not sticking in your head, you goober? They partner with the shelter to boost attendance. You know, you take hot guys, add in cute puppies and kittens, and it’s an instant win.”

“Yeah, okay, but why are you going?”

I know her question isn’t meant to sound belittling, but I still start to spiral, because she’s right…why am I going?

There’s no way this event will be seen as a good thing. It will just lead to more negative articles, which will lead to me losing the job with the Storm. And then I’ll never get to switch—

“Él? Are you okay?” Niamh’s voice pulls me out of the spiral and back to reality, making me realize I’m clenching my glass so tightly that my knuckles are white.

Releasing the glass and shaking the tension from my hand, I dip my chin. “Yeah, sorry. Got lost in my thoughts for a second.”

“Hmm,” she hums.

I’m saved from her inquiry when my phone vibrates again. My mouth parts in shock as I stare at the message on my screen. “Gimme,” Niamh says, snatching the phone from my hand.

Today 11:21AM

Reyes:

Change in plans. I’ll pick you up in an hour.

I look up as she hits what I assume is the send button on a message and hands me back my phone. “And done.”

Me:

I’m at H&H but will be done in 30. Pick me up then?

Reyes:

I’ll be there.