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“You’re obviously getting divorced though. Right?” Nate frowned at me from across the table.
I shrugged. “We’re not sure yet. We have a lot to figure out. I don’t know, part of me thinks that drunk me might not have been so stupid. And then part of me is a little more logical and rational.” I smirked. “But yeah. I did go see him at the restaurant today.”
“What’s going to happen in two days?” This came from Jared. I raised my eyebrows in question. “When we go home,” he clarified. “You live in Port Grandlin. He lives here.”
Another wave of nausea hit me. I didn’t want to think about it and I had mostly avoided it so far. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. We haven’t decided what we’re doing as far as the marriage goes. We might end up divorced in a month or so and it’ll be a moot point. If we stay together… I don’t know. Maybe I can work remotely or transfer to an office in Nevada. It’s worth looking into, right?” It crossed my mind that it couldn’t hurt to ask, so I pulled out my phone and fired off a quick email before they could keep worrying me.
A server came to the table then, rescuing me from their lines of questioning. He was cute and Parker flirted shamelessly with him, making me wonder if they were going to end up in Park’s hotel room later that night. We ordered drinks and appetizers quickly and then the server was gone again, but not before throwing a flirty smile and a wink in Parker’s direction.
I rolled my eyes. “When are you going to quit that and settle down?”
Parker punched me in the shoulder. “I told you—never.”
“Haven’t you ever wanted to get married?” I asked with a sigh.
He shook his head. “Not since I was in elementary school. Me and this guy Travis—we were best friends until high school—made a promise that we’d get married if we were still single when we hit thirty. But that was a long time ago and I haven’t talked to him in over a decade and I seriously have no interest in getting married anymore.”
“You’re turning thirty soon,” I pointed out.
Parker flipped me off and turned to look for the hot waiter. “Go fuck your chef and leave me alone,” he said over his shoulder.
“I think I might, as soon as dinner is over. I have a date with him tonight.”
The table erupted in cheers and oohs and that quickly the focus was back on me. I could hardly wait to get back to the room and get ready for my date with Oliver.
Chapter Thirteen
Oliver
WhileIwaitedtohear from Cam, I stress baked. It had taken me years to get my raspberry lemon tarts perfect, a recipe I’d battled with for ages, and I looked forward to drowning my anxiety in their deliciousness. He had said he’d call after his dinner with friends was over, but I realized I had no idea what that meant to him. Did they eat early? Late? Long meals? Did they drive an hour outside of town?
Tenderloin judged me from her perch on the kitchen table. Her look clearly said, “Relax. This date doesn’t even matter and you have no idea when he’s going to be here anyway.” I shot her a look in return that said, “I know. I should’ve asked more questions.” It wasn’t like me not to get all the relevant information, but Cam had gotten me so distracted I hadn’t thought to ask anything at all.
My phone rang, trilling from its spot on the counter and I rushed to answer it. “Hello?” I tried not to sound out of breath, but I wasn’t sure it worked.
“You okay?” Grant asked on the other end of the line, paper rustling in the background.
I sighed and collapsed onto the couch. “Clearly not. What’s going on?”
“Nothing much. Just trying to research divorces in Nevada for you.”
My stomach churned. Of course he was. He was my best friend and he would do anything for me—just like I would for him. “About that…”
The rustling stopped. “What?” His tone was leery, but I suspected he knew what I was going to say next.
“I fucked him,” I said in a very small voice.
“Sorry, can you repeat that?” His tone was very smug.
I sighed deeply. “Fine. I fucked him. Are you happy?”
I could hear Grant’s smile through the line. “Actually, I kind of am.”
“You were mad at me this morning for marrying him and now you sound thrilled that we slept together.”
“Just because I’m watching out for your public life doesn’t mean I don’t care about your personal life.”
If he’d been in front of me, I would have flipped him off. Instead, I muttered a halfhearted curse. “Fuck you.”
