Page 61 of Ardently Yours

“Plan B is disgusting, and it could end up causing more problems than it solves.”

“It is pretty gross.” Her mouth turns down in an expression of disgust.

I grunt in agreement.

“I'll take over as liaison, then. Less messy.” She hesitates. “What would Arden do if you told him?”

I place the last pin and sit back on my stool. “Arden is very . . . I guess upright is the word. You should have seen his reaction when I asked if Steve did anything illegal.”

She cringes. “So much for hoping for a little morally gray mixed into that white hat,” she says.

I shake my head. “He’s complicated. When he thinks something needs to happen, he finds ways that are technically legal but kind of sneaky. Like manipulating Calvin Marsh into voluntarily serving time in Alaska.”

She closes her eyes and sighs. “I could have kissed him for that.”

“But he also told me once that if someone cared about me, they wouldn’t drag me into their mess. So the reverse stands to reason.”

“Ouch.”

“He’d support self-defense, if he believed us, but everything we did after that . . .” I shake my head. “It would be bad,” I say.

“Are you going to go to the masquerade?” Rochelle asks.

I tip my head back to look at the white ceiling tiles. “Is it a bad idea?”

“No, and if you haven’t decided, we should make the dress. Leave your options open.” She reaches behind her, then brandishes the latest edition ofVogue. “We can pull it off.”

“Wouldyouwant to be with someone who kept such a big secret from you?” I ask.

“You could look at it as being similar to him not discussing cases. It’s not a lie. It’s ‘confidentiality.’” Rochelle makes finger quotes.

”Seems like a stretch,” I say.

“Well, you can’t tell him. So the only thing you can do is decide whether to feel guilty about it or not,” Rochelle says.

“I can’t turn off guilt like it’s a light switch,” I say in exasperation.

“In this case, you should. Besides, if you told him, you’d be betrayingmytrust. Think of it as receiving confession.”

We both stare at each other for a beat.

“You’re my priest,” she clarifies.

I snort.

She curls her lips under her teeth and fakes an innocent expression.

“This . . . isn’t funny.” I collapse, laying my head on my arms and laughing.

Rochelle cackles. “I know. It’s . . . f-freaking terrible.”

I laugh harder.

One of the guys in the cast wanders into the room and smiles at the two of us. “I’m not even going to ask.”

Rochelle nods. “You’re a wise man, Perry.”

Perry tugs gently on Bronnie’s pigtail as he passes her on his way to the fridge in the corner. “Just grabbing some water. Rehearsals under those lights are murder.”

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