Page 90 of A Certain Appeal
“A lady never tells,” I say.
She cackles. “If I see one, I’ll keep that in mind.”
The door clatters open: Andrea. “What bullshit,” she announces, voice booming as she strides the length of the room. She has also grabbed a pitcher of mimosas, though I doubt she intends to share. “It’s bad enough to have been swindled, but betrayed by Ginn? Criminal! To say nothing of what that scoundrel did to you.” She rests a hanky-laden hand on my shoulder. “Oh, darling, I should have asked you to show me your work, gotten it on record...”
Fresh guilt piles on. If I’d been braver sooner, maybe if I’d spoken to Andrea earlier or had my work with me the night I finally did... Would that have changed anything?
Tonic slips in through the still-open door. The room goes silent, and I have to remind myself to breathe. Her gaze immediately drops to the floor.
“I sent her a text, too,” Ming says quietly. “She’s lost... a lot, I think.”
Tonic bites the nail of her right thumb. The gesture takes me back to that day at my apartment, and the tightness in my chest eases some. I walk toward her, and it’s as though my approach has untethered her from the spot at the door, as she half-runs to meet me. “I’m so sorry, Kitten!” she chokes out. “He said you’d shown him the designs and he wanted another look. I didn’t know he’d taken them until this morning!”
I nod. With her in front of me, her face tearstained and puffy, I’m not angry, and I’m willing to take her at her word that she didn’t mean any harm. After all, I was taken in by Wickham, too.
“It’s... not cool. But thank you for the apology. Have you heard from Ginn?” I ask, not sure if I should. “What happened?”
Tonic’s shoulders slump, her eyes welling. “She wasn’t at our practice space this morning. When I texted, she wrote back,Sorry. Under contract with W. Solo act. Huge opportunity! Couldn’t say no!” Her hand strays to her left side as she recites the message. I wince: her tattoo, the one that coordinates with Ginn’s.
“Would you like a hug,” I offer, “or will that make you cry?”
“I could go for a hug,” she says in a small voice.
I wrap my arms around her and give her a squeeze. The girl is solid wiry muscle and trembles like a whippet as quiet sobs overtake her. A moment later, Jane joins the hug from behind Tonic, and a pair of softballs jam between my shoulder blades as another pair of arms envelops me; Ming. Andrea reaches over Jane to pat Tonic’s shoulder.
Here are my people.The thought almost makes me smile, but it falters immediately. I try to remember what Darcy said about not blaming myself, but I can’t help it. Wickham had his own connection to the club, but I’m the one who let him embed himself in the group. I drew the plans that stole the deal. I’m why we’re here, trying to keep this found family from fracturing.
The thought becomes less grim as I dwell on it. Iamwhy we’re all here. I got us gathered in one place. The group hug slowly disbands. A tear slips down my cheek, and as I take in the faces around me, I’m not the only one whose eyes are wet.
This is worth fighting for.
“So.” The word comes out wobbly. I clear my throat. “The deal fell through.”
Even though everyone has had a few hours to process the information, the words suck the life out of the group. Shoulders droop, brows crease, and the only sounds for a few seconds are a sniffle from Tonic and the low hum of the room’s wine fridges.
“Andrea,” I ask, “do you have any idea what to expect from the next few weeks?”
She sighs. “You have a month before he closes for renovations. Bookings and schedules are good through then, assuming any of you can stomach the idea. Tonic, luv...” Andrea looks to Tonic, who chews on her thumbnail, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I don’t know what you can expect. It’s a hideous situation for you.”
Tonic nods, eyes still downcast. Ming throws an arm over her shoulder, tugging her close.
“I’m already out.” Andrea takes a dramatic pull from her mimosa. “That Wickham bastard is coming in this week to get a feel for how things are run. He said I was welcome to help transition, but I told him to stuff it. It’s humiliating enough to be shoved aside after so many years there. I’m not going to stand by and watch him steal it.”
“Likes he’s stolen everything else,” Ming mutters.
The heavy silence falls over us again.
“Oh, good! You are in here. Gales!”
I turn at the unexpected voice to find Chloe at the open door. She charges toward our booth, and I rise to meet her. Gales follows her in, carrying mimosa pitcher number three, and closes the door behind him.
“Ohmigod.” She wraps me in a hug. “Are you okay?” She holds meat arm’s length, eyes narrowed. “Are we plotting revenge? We’re here to plot revenge, right?”
Gales adds his pitcher to the table, then hugs me, too. “You hanging in there, Lizard?”
“It’s been a weird morning,” I say, though their sudden appearance is adding to the surreality. “What are you two doing here?”
“You’re family!” Chloe slides into the booth beside Ming, and everyone shifts to make room for the new arrivals. “And Jane’s one of my favorite people. Plus, Ming let me set her lashes last night. That’s a sacred act of bonding.”
