Page 33 of Tattletale

Eden beams at me. “Good. I don’t mean to mother you, but ten more bites, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Third time’s a charm,” I mutter before shoving another hearty bite into my mouth.

“What’s that?” Eden asks.

I hold up one finger. “My first mother died when I was little.” I hold up another. “My second just shunned me and no longer wants anything to do with me.” My third finger joins the rest. “Let’s hope you and I fare a little better, hm?”

“Vesper didn’t shun you,” Eden says softly. “She’s…worried about you. So is Lance.”

My eyes turn to slits. I glare at the soup so I don’t direct my anger at Eden. “I’ll eat three bowls of this right now if you never say his name to me again.”

“He’s been asking about you.” She touches my arm gently. I pat her hand, reminding myself that she’s not the enemy.

“Did you tell him I’m staying here?”

She shakes her head. “No, but I’m running out of excuses. He knows we talk. Is there anything I can tell him?”

I fill my lungs to capacity, then let out another deep breath. “Yeah. Tell him I’m dead.”

Eden cocks her head to the side. “How about I just say you’re not quite ready to talk yet?” She’s using her soothing HR voice on me.

“Or the dead thing.” I shovel another bite of soup into my mouth. I said I wasn’t hungry, but a few bites have made my stomach come back to life. It’s empty and roaring furiously now. I grab the torn piece of baguette lying next to the soup bowl. After plunging it into the broth, I bite off a big piece, chewing slowly, telling my stomach to calm down.

“He came by my office a few days ago and told me to tell you something if I saw you.”

I pretend like I’m not interested. “Being?” I ask distractedly, focused on tearing off another piece of bread.

“He’s sorry. He misses you. And something about seeing you on June twenty-seventh… Cricket, he was distraught. What happened between you two in New York?”

“I told you already, I went off plan—”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Before Vesper got there. You and Lance left as friends and came back as something else. Did you guys—”

“Fuck?”

Eden blushes but keeps her eyes on me. “Yes, I suppose that’s what I’m asking.”

“We did,” I admit.

“Oh. So now you and Lance are…” She trails off, looking for me to finish her sentence.

It’s a good question. What exactly are we now?Broken. Hurt. Confused. Angry. In love.I drop the piece of bread into the soup, watching it disintegrate to nothing in an instant. It’s strange howquickly something can disappear. One minute here, the next gone. In one moment, Lance and I were destiny—bound for a happily ever after.But now?

I look Eden dead in the eye. “Now, we’re nothing.”

By ten o’clock on Tuesday night, I find myself at Martinis, our team’s preferred watering hole. No one’s here tonight. I’m not even sure if Linc and Eden realized I left the house. I stayed at their place after I got back from New York because I wanted to hide out in peace. I craved the privacy, but now I can’t stand to be alone with my thoughts.

“Cricket?” I look up to see Ollie, one of Martinis’ bartenders, standing in front of my booth. She’s holding a server’s tray with a bright red drink in a stemless martini glass, wearing an apologetic smile.

“I didn’t order that.”

“Compliments of the gentlemen at the end of the bar.”

I look over her shoulder at two men in slacks and business jackets who are unsubtly looking in my direction. “Which one?”

She shakes her head and shrugs. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know. They are sharing a tab. Kind of seems like you have your pick of the two.” She cocks her head to the side. “Or maybe it’s a group situation if you’re into that. They certainly aren’t bad-looking.”

I nod toward her tray. “What did they order me?”

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