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“I’m fine,” she says, her voice rising. “I just—emotions were high. I’ve never told anyone about that fight. And then ... the kiss. We both know the kiss meant nothing, right?” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Because we’re friends?”
We’re more than that, but it’s not fair to admit that when it’s not what she wants. When there’s so much else between us. “Totally. I got caught up in the moment. It was a mistake, that’s all.”
“Right. A mistake.”
Butterflies—not the good kind—take flight in my stomach. For long moments, we don’t speak. The ballroom clears out, and we’re alone.
“So, we’re good?” I ask and realize I’m holding my breath waiting for an answer.
“Two wrongs cancel each other out, right?” She smiles. It’s a fraction of a smile, but it’s enough.
“Something like that is true.” I take my first deep breath since Hope walked away the other night.
“Did you hear from the Newport bartender?” Hope asks with the kind of forced casualness usually reserved for strangers asking about the weather in an elevator.
“Not yet.”
Not yet?That’s the best I came up with? I wrote for a semipopular television show, which once earned critical acclaim for its witty dialogue, andnot yetis the best I can come up with to keep the conversation smooth.
“You will,” she says.
More silence. My mind is full of stories I want to share with Hope—about Annette and my agent’s news—but somehow Hope is the only person I can’t tell. More lies by omission. She chews on her lower lip, as if there’s something she’s struggling to keep inside.
I lean forward, unable to help myself. “Something’s bothering you.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Well, I wouldn’t join a poker tournament if I were you.”
She flashes a soft smile. “Brandon used to say the same.”
I want to reach my hand across the table, but I hold back.
“Rory Lefner paid Maeve a visit. It didn’t go exactly as he’d planned, though.”
My mind zigzags to put the name together with the gossip I heard. “Bailey’s ex-fiancé? What did he want with Maeve?”
“To intimidate her, I guess.” She tells me about his threat and the way a coincidence with the order of his plant rampage saved them.
My fists clench, and it’s a struggle to keep my voice even. “Were you there? Are you okay?”
Hope nods. “I’m fine. He ran away screaming like a colicky baby.”
I breathe deeply through my nose and force the smile I know Hope wants. “Is Maeve ...”
Hope throws up her hands, exasperated. “She’s not even flustered. Wouldn’t even consider letting me get her a room at the Inn.”
“She’s ... something else,” I say and stop myself from telling Hope she needs to keep her distance from Maeve. Hope said we’re good, but I don’t need to test how good by telling her what to do. “I should have been with you.”
Her eyes snap to mine, and yes, I said she was a terrible poker player, but I cannot read that look. Because I would bet money that it’s full of heat from the memory of that kiss, but I know it’s not.Mistake.Could she have been any clearer?
“Hope, I have to tell you something. It’s about Maeve. I ... I haven’t been exactly honest with you. Or her.” My stomach knots at the way she stiffens. “That first night I showed up at Maeve’s, I wasn’t there to connect with anyone or because I believed in Maeve. I went because I knew my mom had been going to see her, and then my mom left so abruptly ... I heard the rumors, and I didn’t trust Maeve. I hired a private investigator to find my mom, and he ended up learning a lot about Maeve instead.”
I slide my phone toward her and watch as she reads the summary document from the investigator.
She looks up with an unreadable expression. “Have you shown this to anyone else?”
“Just you.”
