Page 69 of Stick to the Deal
“Aren’t you breastfeeding?” I call after her.
She shrugs as she pulls out three highball glasses. “I have a stash of milk in the freezer. I’ll just pump and dump.”
It’s my turn to shake my head at her. “What are you making anyway?”
Anna and Bree both freeze and face the other. “ANGRY BALLS!” they yell in unison before breaking into giggles.
It’s good to have them back.
I kill the engine to my car and sit in the Pop parking lot, enjoying the air conditioning for a last minute before facing the balmy southern weather. All this time in New York and London is really killing my heat tolerance.
Not that the nights haven’t been steamy. My lip curls into a satisfied smirk thinking about saying goodbye to Reginald last night. And this morning. I slept like a baby the entire flight here still in an afterglow.
After the show, Reginald and I are in a good place. The past week in New York has been practically idyllic. We’re both busy with work, but we make time to share at least two meals a day. Our evenings are more relaxed, watching hours of shows together, or cuddled in bed reading.
I’d much rather be with him, but Bree called about some emergency at Pop, and as a partner, I need to help. A twinge of guilt twists in my belly. I haven’t been around Pop lately. Anna’s certainly stepped up since she invested more to become majority owner, and I don’t want to step on her toes.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
Barely pausing to wave at the cook staff, I trudge up the back stairs to what used to be Anna’s apartment. After she moved in with David, we turned this into offices for the event space. The living room has a cozy conversation zone withphoto books of our previous events, the full kitchen is useful for menu tastings or providing light refreshments to customers, and the back bedroom is storage.
“Ok, what is the big emergency that we couldn’t do this over video?”
Bree and Anna sit side by side in two matching slipper chairs. Both have serious expressions as they stare at me silently. What the hell happened that has them looking like this?
“Nic, please have a seat,” Bree starts.
Eyeing my two best friends cautiously, I perch on the couch across the coffee table.
Anna takes a deep breath. “We are here today, because we love you, and want the best for you.”
“Is this a fucking intervention?” I stand, shaking my head, my feet already in motion.
Three steps from the door, Bree’s tone stops me. “Sit the fuck down.” Did she just mom-voice me? And damn if it’s not working. “You’ve always been the tough-love one. Well, it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. Nobody’s leaving until we’ve all had a say.”
I stomp back to the chair. Do I look like a petulant child? Yes. Do I care? Not particularly.
“Suga’, we’re worried, and a little hurt. Since when do we keep secrets from each other?”
“Gee,Bella, what about you never telling us you went by an entirely different name half your life or had this great lost love.”
Anna flinches, and I’m almost sorry.
“That was about the past,” she says, “this is different.”
“Well, this is about my past.”
“Really? So when you were off in London attending galas on the arm of your husband, that was the past?”
“Yes, all the shit in London and with Grandmama are tied to my past.”
The silence hangs in the air. My skin prickles as I look at my two best friends. In all our years of friendship, we’ve never been at odds like this. It feels wrong, but I don’t want to back down.
“Then what about this?” Bree slaps an article about the art show on the coffee table.
Anna leans forward, wrapping her arms around herself, looking sad. “We would have gone. We would have cheered louder than anyone else. Why didn’t you tell us?”
I know they would have. “I wasn’t sure I was good enough. You think everything I do is great. What would you have thought if the critics hated it?”
