Page 72 of Brenna, Brat

“According to Granger’s source, they’re not going to pursue any additional co-conspirators.”

“He’s not a co-conspirator!”

“I’m saying that it looks like he’s in the clear, Brenna! Holy Mary, don’t take my head off.”

There was a long pause.

“Brenna?”

“Mmhm,” I answered.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m glad,” I said, and the words emerged semi-normally. If I hadn’t been talking to one of my sisters, it probably would have been fine and we could have hung up, but Sophie definitely caught it.

“Why are you crying?” she asked, but I wasn’t able to say anything else. “Ok, come over here. We’ve been working in the yard all weekend and I need a break. You’ll be a good excuse. Come or I’ll tell Nicola about this,” she said briskly, so instead of going home, I went to my sister’s house.

“By the way, I gave you good news,” Sophie announced when I arrived. “I have no idea why it made you upset.”

In the time it had taken me to drive over, I’d gotten myself back under control. I only shrugged, though, and then…

“You’re crying again? How bad was the weekend?” she asked, and she grabbed my arm and pulled me into her living room.

She gave me some toilet paper to wipe my eyes and blow my nose, and I told her everything, every gory detail about the turquoise bikini, Dion and Carrington, and what had happened this morning.

“He felt you up in your sleep?” she asked loudly. Her husband Danny, who had been walking through the living room, stopped.

“What? Who did what to you?” he asked.

“I was awake,” I admitted, to my shame. “If he’d been awake too, he wouldn’t have done it.”

“Why?” she asked. “What’s wrong with your breasts?” She bent down slightly to peer at them.

I also looked down. “No one is interested in them,” I said. “No one ever has been. Campbell only is when he’s unconscious, even though he could have had all of me whenever he wanted.”

“That’s bullshit,” Danny told me. “That guy is into you.”

“What?” I shook my head. “No, he’s not. You should have heard him apologize for what happened this morning.”

“As he should have,” he agreed.

“He’s had a lot of women,” Sophie, ever so helpful, pointed out to her husband. “Why isn’t he going for her while he’s awake?”

“Maybe he’s thinking that he doesn’t want to pull her into his mess,” her husband answered, and I thought of how Campbell had said almost the same thing.

“No, that’s not it,” I stated. “We knew each other before the mess even started, and he didn’t want me then, either.”

“Well…” Sophie bit her lip before she continued. “Sometimes people don’t mesh, not like a couple. Maybe you two are better as friends. That’s not a bad thing,” she reminded me. “It’s great to have friends.”

I nodded.

“Bren, don’t cry.” Then Sophie, who might have hugged me once in my life before today, opened her arms. Yes, it was great to have friends, and it was very lucky to have sisters.

Chapter 15

My dad skimmed down the screen again, his index finger directing his eyes, and he nodded. “This makes sense to me, Brenna. I’ve noted some adjustments we can make, but I don’t have any major concerns. It looks like you put a lot of thought into this.”

I had, and Sophie had helped me. She and I had figured out where my new sewing workshop should be: on the grounds of Juliet’s house, where there was enough acreage that she and Beckett probably wouldn’t notice me or several hundred other people hanging around, either. We had written out parameters to guide how I would manage my time, afford my materials, and deal with many, many other issues. “There are no major concerns, besides the large possibility of people not liking what I make and not wanting to buy it,” I mentioned.

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