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Okay, so maybe it was possible she’d gone a teensy bit over the line with the hair color. Temporary highlights definitely fell under the category of No Big Deal for a thirty-one year old, but Sloane hadn’t really thought of it that way in the fun of the moment. In hindsight, she should’ve known Gavin would go ballistic over it. Heck, he’d freaked out last week at the notion of Bree wearing a face full of makeup in the privacy of her own home.
Why hadn’t she remembered that untilnow?
The blinking red icon on Sloane’s cell phone snagged her attention, and relief cascaded through her at the distraction. She took a hearty swig from her water bottle and tapped the app, determined to come away with at least a shred of something good from the last couple of hours.
“Sloane, it’s yourmama. The one you never call.”
She let out a groan and slumped over the counter, dropping her forehead to the cool granite while she winced and listened. Would this day ever end?
“Carly’s mother came by to show me some pictures Dominic took at the wedding. You couldn’t wear a shawl over that dress? A person could see what you had for breakfast if you so much as leaned over!”
Truly, Sloane didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Anyhow, I thought you should know that Angela’s doctor finally decided to induce labor in the morning, so she’s going to the hospital at ten. I’ll call you as soon as the baby comes. Maybe you’ll come to Brooklyn for more than a day when there’s a new baby, eh? Until then, I hope you’re behaving yourself. And keep your body covered!”
A wicked image of Gavin’s hands delving beneath black silk lashed across her memory without warning, and she yelped as she slapped her cell phone into silence. Okay, tossing and turning aside, she absolutely needed to go to bed, if for no other reason than to put this freaking day out of its misery. She capped her water bottle, replacing it in the fridge before turning to plug her cell phone into the charger and trudge back to her rumpled bed.
It rang in her hand, scaring the shit out of her.
“Jesus!” Sloane splayed a hand over her chest, and she sent a string of colorful invective at her merrily chiming iPhone. “Whoever this is had better be really drunk.”
The name on the caller ID sent a streak of confusion through her, followed quickly by a bolt of pure shock.
No way. Gavin was going to fire her now? In the middle of the night?
Over thephone?
Oh, hell, no. She wasn’t going down like this. He’d said he trusted her, for God’s sake. And like it or not, she’d made her choice with Bree’s best interests at heart.
She whipped the phone to her ear in a huff. “Look, I get that you’re mad, okay, and that I might’ve screwed up, but if you’d justlisten—”
“Sloane—”
“Don’t interrupt! You’re so jacked up over what you think is right that you don’t—”
“Sloane—” Gavin tried again. God, he was so infuriating!
“No, let me get this out. You don’t stop to think that there might be more at play than what you think or feel. That there werereasonsfor what I did. You just—”
“Sloane!”
The dire urgency in his voice jerked her words to a graceless halt. Whoa. Had he sounded this bad the first two times he’d tried to interrupt her?
The absence of anger, of any variety of heat as he spoke her name, made the hair on the back of Sloane’s neck stand at eerie attention. “What?”
“I, um…I know it’s late, but I need you to come back. Tonight. Please.”
The words were simple enough to compute, but they deflected off of every part of her brain that might process them rationally, leaving her to stammer, “You…you what?”
“I need help with Bree.”
“From me? I mean, I think we’ve established I’m not the best person for that,” Sloane said without any trace of sarcasm.
“You’re better equipped to handle this than I am, trust me,” he said.
Wait. He soundedserious.
Sloane pressed the phone against her ear even tighter, certain she’d misunderstood. “Gavin, none of this is making sense. I know you’re mad, but—”
