Page 42 of False Start

"Thanks, girl! I bought way too many clothes for Fashion Week last month; this one didn't make the cut. I couldn't let those paparazzi catch me slipping, not when the right outfit could earn me a feature or a spot on another show."

"Isn't it about time you had yourownshow?" Maya asks with a twinkle in her eye. I just scoff. She knows having a show has been on my mind for years. She also knows it takes financing I don't have.

"Is that why you've been Ms. Incognegro lately?" Tiffany asks. "Unless you're teaching your class, I never see you, and even then you bounce as soon as it's over."

"Oooh!" Maya squeals. "Maybe she's rushing home for a hot date."

"Someone at the center, perhaps?" Tiffany jokes. "I may be in charge, but I'm not blind. Some of the new volunteers are too sexy for their own good!"

"Are you talking about Jorge?" Maya practically swoons. "If I still had my Tinder, I'd definitely swipe right."

Tiffany giggles.

"Jorge, for sure. Then there's Marcus—I don't think you've seen him, since he's only there on Tuesday and Thursday evenings." She averts her gaze. "Even Cory isn't hard on the eyes."

Maya throws a sugar packet across the table, looking scandalized.

"Stop! He's my brother-in-law!"

"So?" Tiffany snorts. "He's notmybrother. More than a few instructors have asked if he can help with their classes. Some even asked about private sessions."

Tiffany waggles her eyebrows.

"Wow! I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Maya says. "All the Park men are players."

"Actually," Tiffany corrects, "he always turns them down. Says he's already committed to helping Denise withherworkshop."

Two sets of eyes swivel in my direction and I try not to shrink away.

"You never mentioned you were working with Cory." Maya's accusation is clear, but I don't take the bait.

"It's no big deal. My class was overbooked," Tiffany sips her water primly as I give her a pointed look, "and he's got experience working with large groups of kids."

"From working on Wall Street?" Maya asks skeptically.

"No. From helping Damon with his basketball clinics." I try to keep the defensiveness out of my tone, but I'm starting to feel like I'm on trial. So what if I'm working with Cory? It doesn't automatically mean something's going on between us. I mean, somethingis, but—

"Well, whoever's got you so tied up, tell him he needs to let you out long enough for a 'Binge & Bitch' session. I'm in serious need," Tiff almost whines.

I breathe a sigh of relief at the change of topic and push down the niggling guilt Tiff's words stir up. I said I was going to work on our friendship, but instead, I've beendickstracted five nights a week with what wassupposedto be a booty call.Boy, hasthatship sailed!

I force a laugh.

"My bad, ladies. Between class and working on my designs for the show, I've barely had time to breathe."

That's what I've been telling everyone, anyway. Everyone, includinga certain someonewith umber eyes, hair that's practically made to run my fingers through, and a surprisingly big heart hidden under a few dozen layers of bullshit. Work has been the perfect excuse to slow things down while my head's still reeling from our last night together.

Losing Cynthia shook me. I couldn't help but see the parallels between her and Andre, but instead of going home to disassociate and cuddle Clawdette, out for drinks with my girls, opening an app for a little mindless sex, or calling Dr. Jamison for an emergency session, I showed up on Cory's doorstep and cried my eyes out. We'dtalked. He'dlistened. And then heheld me all night!

I woke up the next morning in a panic.Why did I go to him? What did it mean that he didn't even try to have sex with me? Are we together now?

I ran out the door, still half-naked and hopping on one heel, claiming I had a deadline. From the look on his face, not only did he not buy my story, but he was worried about me! Not indifferent, like a normal booty call. Not pissed I was running out on him…again. Worried.Worriedgoes way past casual tocaring, and my chest tightened at the thought.

Despite the fact that I literallyfled his apartment, he keeps texting me; checking on me, trying to link up, just to say hi. I can't bring myself to ignore him, but I've been keeping my responses short. Any longer and I might say something crazy like,I really like you, Cory.

The one time he called, I rushed him off the phone, pretending my mom was on the other line.As if.But just because I told him about Andre, doesn't mean he needs to know I haven't spoken to either of my parents since his funeral.

"Uh, hello? Earth to Denise!" Tiffany waves her napkin in front of my face. "Where did you just go?"

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