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“Doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”
“Don’t tell me you, Phoebe Hodge, who would eat frosting out of the container using pretzels as a spoon, are a health nut now.”
I pressed my lips together, deciding how much I want to divulge. “Kale chips and hummus are almost as good.” A loud noise came from Laurent, and I swiveled toward him. “Did you just snort?”
“Did you just compare frosting and pretzels to kale chips and hummus?”
I adjusted the hem of my skirt, not sure what to do with my hands. “Maybe.”
“Wow, I lost you to the dark side.”
“I… Fine, do you want the cordial answer or the truth?”
He came to a red light and stopped. He shifted, his blue gaze swinging toward me and locking on my eyes. “The truth. Always.”
“I don’t want to die like my mom.” I doubt it was her diet that gave Mom cancer, and I doubt it was her diet that made her succumb to the crippling disease, but it’s the only thing I could control. Eat healthy, exercise regularly, and stay up-to-date on my doctors’ appointments. It’s all I could do.
Tears pressed at the back of my eyes, but I forced them away. I would not cry in front of Laurent. I inhaled deeply, letting the breath wash over me, calming the frazzled parts of my body.
“Phoebs…”
“Light’s green,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road in front of us.
He didn’t go. A car behind us beeped, then drove around us. I sat with my hands in my lap, refusing to have this conversation. Not now. Not in a car at a green light. Not when the sun was shining, and I couldn’t hide behind the covers of darkness.
“Talk to me,” he said in a voice that was comforting and prodding all at once.
My lips parted, the courage I lacked rising inside me and shutting out the fears and uncertainties. With a deep breath, I looked at him, still shocked by the beautiful blue staring at me.
“I—”
The shrill ring of my cell cut through the car, and I quickly rummaged through my bag. My heart sunk at the name that flashed on the screen.
“Don’t answer that,” Laurent pleaded, but my courage to speak with him was gone, zapped right out of my body.
Finding the strength and patience to get through this phone call, I answered. “Hi Marion.”
“Did you get the invitation?” No hi. How are you. Just straight to the point.
“I did.”
“Were you planning on RSVPing? I need a head count to submit to the venue.”
“I was, but seeing as I got the invitation not even two days ago…”
“It’s a simple yes or no.”
I bit my tongue and looked skyward, resting my head against the headrest. “I will be there, and I’m bringing a guest.”
“A guest? I didn’t accommodate for a guest. Who are you bringing?”
“My boyfriend.”
“Since when do you have a boyfriend?”
Another big breath. “As I said if I got the invitation sooner—”
“Do you know how much a plate is? This venue is not some run-of-the-mill dump. It’s high end. Only the best for Parker.” Of course, because Parker was the perfect Princess. Try saying that three times fast.
