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She juts out her hip and locks a hand to it. “Jason, I’m dating a guy named Brad. There, are you happy?”
I lean into her. “No, because you can do so much better than Brad in his gray suit.”
“Oh my God! How much have you had to drink?” she asks, pulling away. “No, forget that. I don’t care. You know what, Jase? You’re my friend, but that doesn’t mean you get to choose who I date. Just like I don’t get to tell you who you can date. And don’t think I haven’t wanted to say something. Some of the women you’ve dated and thought were sweet were complete bitches to me behind your back,” she hisses, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen her. The harsh words hit me like I’ve been physically slapped.
“Well I think being a friend means I should speak up. And I wish you’d done the same for me.”
A long sigh releases through her pink glossy mouth, and I’m strangely captivated by the way her lips form a perfect O. “Jase, you’re being an asshole. Please just leave me and my date alone.” She continues to look at me like I stole her last Hershey’s kiss—Dana’s favorite chocolates. Something I bet Brad doesn’t know.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll go now.” I knock back the remaining golden liquid in my glass, then wipe my hand across my mouth. “When you speak to Allie and Logan, please give them my apologies for leaving early.”
She nods, and I turn and leave, placing the empty glass on a table on my way out the door. I’ve no fucking idea what’s wrong with me tonight. I should be happy that my friend is dating again. Instead, I have an overwhelming desire to punch Brad in the jaw—not because he did or said anything wrong but for the simple reason he’s the one beside her tonight.
There’s a connection with Dana that I don’t feel with other women, and until now, jealousy wasn’t part of it. I don’t want to lose her friendship, and I’ve come close to doing that tonight. But I also don’t know if I can stand by and watch her throw her future away on someone who doesn’t understand her like I do.
Chapter three
Dana
August
A Carlson Surprise Party
I can’t believe I’m in London, England. But it’s true. My first European adventure and a chance to see a real castle, like my brother and I imagined when we were kids. The trip is for Katie’s surprise thirtieth birthday party, and I’ll be staying in this beautiful room at the luxurious Dorchester Hotel for three whole days.
It’s a long way from the small farm in Upstate New York where I grew up. Honestly, today I’m about as excited as that little girl who avidly watched all the royal processions of shiny gold horse-drawn coaches making their way up the Mall. Lines of footmen in bright red, gold-trimmed coats walking alongside. I wanted to be a princess living in a castle, and to me, this was the life I would lead.
My brother and I even built our own castle treehouse; he would be the knight to come riding up on his broomstick horse to rescue the princess from the evil witch. A familiar sharp pain stabs another Jack-sized hole into my heart, stealing the breath from my lungs. Even here, I can’t escape the memories of my brother, and the hurt wells up inside me almost as fresh as the day I lost him. One day I hope I can remember those happy days of innocence without the pain.
My therapist is working with me to achieve that goal. And I’m clearly still a work in progress, as each memory still feels like my heart has been ripped out and stomped on.
Maybe I’m tired from the flight. I walk over to the windows and pull back the heavy gold silk curtains. It’s late afternoon but still bright outside. Plenty of people are out walking or jogging in the park opposite. I could do with a walk myself, but Drew, Katie’s Scottish boyfriend, made us promise we wouldn’t leave our rooms after four until tonight. That’s when he and Katie are arriving, and he doesn’t want to risk spoiling the surprise birthday party he has planned for her.
It’s really quite sweet how diligent Drew has been at organizing this weekend down to the finest details. Katie, the family organizer, is finally having someone organize a special weekend for her. The number of calls he made to Allie and me to confirm flights and accommodation for the entire Carlson family was like he was planning a covert special-operations mission. Not surprising, given his former SAS training.
Drew is a good guy and deserving of Katie’s love. She’s going to be so excited to see her family here to celebrate with her. At this point, she’s only expecting Allie, Sarah, and me for the weekend.
My cell bounces on the ruby-red bedspread, demanding my attention. It’s Jason asking what I’m doing. For some reason, he was extra attentive on our first-class flight to London. I think he still feels bad for screwing up my date with Brad, even though that was months ago.
Hmph. He should be feeling bad about that. He acted like a jealous jerk at Allie’s launch party. And at the end of the night, instead of Brad asking when he could see me again, he told me he thought I had unresolved feelings for Jason and to give him a call when I was free to date someone else. I was so pissed at Jase.
I liked Brad. Sure, he didn’t exactly light me up like a Christmas tree with his kisses, but the two prior dates I had with him were enjoyable and didn’t scare me. I was even beginning to want to move forward with a more physical relationship with him. Something I hadn’t contemplated in years.
With a heavy sigh, I type a reply to Jason.
Me: Nothing much. Why?
Jason: Since we’ve been banished to our rooms for the next three hours, can I come and do nothing with you?
I text him my room number, and given he’s only a couple of doors along the corridor, I go to the door to let him in. He saunters past me into my hotel room.
“Thanks for saving me from boredom,” he drawls. Jason is a people person through and through. He hates being left to his own devices, and over the years, I’ve been his go-to person. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t because it’s hard pretending I’m happy with us just being friends. But I’d rather be his friend than nothing at all.
Jason kicks off his shoes and plonks himself on my bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
“What movies have they got?” he asks. We both love action films and given the number of them we’ve watched together over the last couple of years, it’s a pretty safe bet that if I’ve seen it, so has he.
I throw him the hotel directory. “You choose and I’ll get us a drink?” I pull two sodas from the minibar and grab a couple of glasses while Jason turns on the television to browse our options.
