Page 30 of Just Trouble

Mom’ll probably let me do some laundry, and I have to believe there’s something better to eat in her fridge than the sandwich I just inhaled.

It’s time I visited her, too.

7

DAPHNE

If Luke found it was cold in my office yesterday, he must be fighting frostbite today.

Not that anyone would have been able to tell. He sits there, reading contracts and asking questions, as if we’re perfect strangers.

Not as if I invited a kiss and he declined to continue it.

Yes. I’m mad. What’s the point of asking for what you want if you don’t get it? Why wouldn’t he take what I was offering? What particular kind of plague do I have? Luke isn’t shy and casual hook-ups seem to be his forte.

Just not with me.

Message received.

More. That word makes me livid. I was awake all night, fuming, and rolled into work like a tropical storm about to wreak havoc on anyone or anything dumb enough to get in my way. I can’t remember ever being insufficient for anyone, and I don’t like the change.

That Luke doesn’t even seem to notice my mood is icing on the cake.

And then—too late—he gives me all the right words, presenting it as sincerity when I know better. He didn’t have toprove to me that good-looking guys are all the same. Was he trying to get a second chance after turning me down? What kind of game is that?

It’s one I’m not going to play.

It helps absolutely nothing that my heart keeps going skippity-bop when I hear his voice, all low and rumbly, making all my sensitive girl bits tingle in harmony. It doesn’t help that I admire the thoughtful questions he has and the way he sees through the words to the legal implications. He’s no fool, that’s for sure. Even my father raises his brows and flicks me a look after one discussion, impressed.

Luke’ll be gone soon.

That the thought leaves me with the taste of disappointment makes everything that much worse.

I grind the gears of my beloved Honda backing out and have to talk myself down. It’s good that I won’t see Luke until the next morning. It’s good that this transaction is likely to be short and sweet. If I go to Toronto to present his proposal to Meredith MacRae tomorrow, he might disappear right after that. He’ll never come back to Empire now and I tell myself to be glad.

Maybe I will be, later.

As I wait on the clerk, I compose a list. Wednesday means that tonight is my turn to play hostess. I might as well take advantage of my unexpected trip to Havelock to buy some groceries, the likes of which are unavailable in Empire.

Tonight, I will create a charcuterie board to spawn legends. That should be enough to improve my mood.

Funny, but it’s not.

Wednesday night isthe very best night of the week.

Every time.

Because that’s when I meet up with my friends. It is the ultimate girls’ night, held weekly, filled with wine and snacks, gossip and love. It’s the highlight of my new life.

These three weren’t always my friends, but that’s how it works, right? Abbie came up with the idea of our club in high school. It was Abs and me, Mackenzie Rhodes and Willow Forsythe. In high school, we hung out all the time. You never saw a more unlikely group of BFFs but it worked.

Maybe it was because we were so different. Mackenzie is the math whiz, the overachieving heiress to the throne of Rhodes Vineyards. If anyone was ever all work and no play, it’s Mackenzie—though she says that when you love what you do, work seems like play. (Where have I heard that recently? Maybe she should jump Luke’s bones. Two of a feather, etc. Grr.)

Willow is the creative genius who can turn any problem on its head to find an unexpected solution. She sees everything from a different perspective, which makes her unpredictable and interesting.

Abbie was always pretty and popular, the rich girl who everybody liked and who knew everyone.

And then there was me, quiet and serious, a socially awkward nerd who could lose herself in the details—or a good book.

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