Page 88 of Can't Get Enough

“Can’t complain. You?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” she says, politeness shrink-wrapping the words. “I wanted to… well, I hadn’t gotten a response to the invitation for my fortieth birthday party, so I thought I’d ask if you’re a yea or nay.”

“Do you reallywantme to come?”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you there, Mav,” she says, impatience and something more vulnerable in her voice. “It’s a big milestone. Of course I want you to come.”

“Will your new guy be okay with me attending?” I inject a hint of teasing, hoping she hears that it really doesn’t bother me.

“He’s not ‘my new guy.’ One date doesn’t mean we’re in a committed relationship. He’ll be there, but he won’t trip if you come, too. It’s not like that.”

“All right.” I nod and close the laptop to give the conversation my focus. “Just want to be respectful.”

“Look, you know I was heartbroken when we decided to part ways,but I’ve done a lot of reflecting. And spent a lot of time with my therapist.” She gives a short laugh. “That woman has been working overtime, but she helped me see that the same way it wouldn’t be fair of you to expect me to give up my dream of having kids, it’s not fair for me to expect you to want something other than what you feel is right for you.”

She neededtherapyto reach that conclusion? Is that what’s passing as a breakthrough these days?Note to self. Pay my therapist more.

“Look, everyone who is important to me will be there,” Zere continues, her tone softening. “That means you, too, doofus.”

“Okay. I’ll come.” I tilt back in my office chair and grin. “And what am I giving you this year? You’ll have to actually tell me instead of leaving clues all over the house so I can figure it out.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Probably not the best thing to remind her of, but if we’re going to actually be friends, we need to move past the awkwardness of our past relationship.

“Just you being there is gift enough,” she says, then laughs. “Who am I kidding? You know you better come correct for the four-oh. Figure it out on your own. Bolt will help you. I only ask that you choose it yourself. Okay?”

“I can do that. And, uh, who’s coming? Anyone I actually like?” I fish, wondering if she’ll mention the name I’m hoping to hear.

“Of course there will be people you actually like. Well, a few at least,” she says with a giggle. “You like Hendrix, right?”

I almost choke at the unexpected question.

“I mean, she said you’re involved with her venture capital fund,” Zere goes on. “I assumed you liked her, but if you don’t, I can—”

“I do. I do like her. She’s cool.” My hand tightens around the phone, but I keep my tone casual. “She’s coming?”

“Yup, she and Chapel both are.”

I’m glad when Hendrix asked, I was vague about whether I’d attend the party. I want to see her again, and this may be my best chance.

CHAPTER 28

HENDRIX

That dress is indecent,” I tell Chapel on the elevator ride up to Zere’s party.

“Is that a compliment?” She twists to display the nonexistent back and the hem that barely covers her ass cheeks.

“Oh, definitely, and I really appreciate the designer’s clever use of floss to almost cover your nipples.”

“The cameras outside were eating it up.” Chapel cups her breasts, nearly overflowing the dress’s minuscule bodice. “You got it, flaunt it. This is flauntation at its finest, baby girl.”

“Work it then,” I say, balancing the square box holding Zere’s birthday gift against my hip.

“Dayuuuuum, you look good, too, Hen. Them thighs is thighing. Got your legs all greased up.”

I kick up one heel playfully. “Thank ya!”

The corseted dress I found at a plus-sized boutique in Buckhead has a tulle skirt that bells out and hits around mid-thigh. It’s strapless, the palest violet, and makes me feel like a princess. The purple ribbons of snakeskin Rene Caovilla stiletto sandals climb around my calves like vines. My pedicure is adorned with a sequin on each big toe.

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