Page 37 of Stone Cold


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“Yeah, no. I know. I just wanted to vent,” she says as we stop at an overlook to check out the view of Casco Bay.

I grab my phone and snap a picture of the crashing waves and the handful of sailboats in the distance.

“Did I tell you Stone’s helping me find a better lawyer?” I ask.

“What’s wrong with Ben Majors?”

“Apparently Stone met with Jason, realized who he was, found out what he’s going after, and now he’s insisting that I go with someone from his firm. He says he wants to make sure I don’t get raked over the coals.”

“Really?” Monica rests her hands on her hips. “That’s … that’s kind of sexy.”

I roll my eyes. “Stop, it’s not like that.”

“Oh, it isn’t?” Her tone is baked in sarcasm. “So you just happened to confess that you used to have a crush on him and now he just happens to be hooking you up with the best legal team in town, but it’s not like that.”

“He’s just being nice.”

“He’s not even getting laid and he’s being nicer to you than my own husband’s being to me.”

“Let’s not compare apples and oranges.” I slide my phone back into my pocket. If there’s anything I’ve learned in my twenty-seven years so far, it’s that love and marriage complicates everything. “Stone’s just doing me a favor.”

“On top of the other favor that he already did for you with the whole dog thing,” she says as we continue on. “I don’t remember him ever being this nice to you back in college? In fact, if memory serves me correctly, it was quite the opposite.”

“People are allowed to change.”

“True.”

“Plus, I was dating his best friend and infringing on all of their guy time. I would’ve hated me too back then,” I say. “Anyway, he already said he’s in love with someone and it’s complicated.”

“Maybe it’s complicated because he’s starting to have feelings for someone else? Someone he never saw coming? Someone he just so happens to be bending over backwards for? Now wouldn’t that be the ultimate plot twist?” Before Monica can say another word, her phone rings. “Ugh, it’s Chauncy.”

“Shouldn’t you be more like aww, it’s Chauncy?”

She chuckles before slapping a love-drunk grin on her face. “Aww, it’s Chauncy!”

“That’s better,” I say.

“I don’t know what he could possibly want. I told him we were going on a hike.”

“Maybe he’s calling to tell you he loves you?” I say. “Words of affirmation and all that …”

“Hey, what’s up? Yeah, no, I need you to sign for that delivery.” she takes his call, and I walk a few steps ahead to give her some space—and to be alone with my thoughts for a minute.

I refuse to read between the lines of Stone’s unexpected kindness and generosity.

The last thing I need is to get sucked into some wishful thinking narrative where everything means something, where the world seems to be conspiring to bring us together like we’re living in the pages of some romance novel.

Happily ever afters rarely exist in real life.

And rarely does anyone ride off into the sunset with their ex-boyfriend’s best friend.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Stone

* * *

“Hey, hey.” Jovie stands in my office doorway Thursday, shortly before noon. With an emerald green pencil skirt, a starched white blouse, her hair slicked back into a low bun, and her lips shaded dark pink, I hardly recognize her and end up doing a double take. “I have something for you.”

She makes her way across the room, her hips swaying in the skintight fabric, and she places a plate of cookies on my desk along with an envelope.

“These are from Ida,” she says. “She really appreciates what you did for Domino. And I hope you like chocolate chip cookies … she said to tell you they’re the Alton Brown recipe, which is supposedly the best one. I may or may not have snuck one on the way here, so I may or may not be able to confirm that they’re life-changing.”

“I’ve never heard a cookie described as life-changing before.”

“Don’t take my word for it.” She slides the plate closer to me.

“I’m actually meeting a client for lunch today, but I’ll save these for a three o’clock pick me up.”

“That’s an impressive amount of discipline you’ve got there. I wouldn’t last ten minutes with these,” she says. “I do this thing sometimes where I stress bake. Usually when I’m nearing the end of a deadline, I do all kinds of crazy things to procrastinate … I’ll organize all of my closets, I’ll take a trip to the bookstore and come back with a stack of bestsellers that I definitely don’t have time to read, and then I’ll bake at least one cake or batch of cookies—that I end up throwing out half the time because if I don’t I’ll inhale the entire thing in one sitting.”

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