Again, he had her in tears. How did he do that to her? And what was wrong with her that she was allowing a smooth-talking stranger to tie her up in knots? “This isn’t who you are, Gabrielle. You don’t let guys get close enough to do this to you.” A sob took her by surprise a second before the floodgates opened. “And you sure as hell don’t do this over a guy. We are not that girl. We have never been that girl!”
Cooper James was making her into that girl, and she had no idea what to do about him.
When her phone rang, she almost declined the call without looking at the caller ID. But since she was currently AWOL from work, she decided to glance at the screen.
Jordan.
She took a deep breath and then answered the call, attempting to keep her breakdown hidden from her best friend. “Hey.”
“Are you crying?”
Gigi wanted to laugh at how well Jordan knew her. “It’s nothing. I’m handling it.”
“Talk to me, Gigi. Tell me what’s going on with you.”
“It’s really nothing. I swear.”
“I call bullshit. You don’t walk away from work or me without a word, and you sure as hell don’t cry, so you’d better tell me what’s going on before I start to get seriously upset. And in my delicate condition—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Jordan. Are you going to play the delicate-condition card for the next nine months?”
“As needed. What’s wrong, Geeg?”
“It appears, much to my incredible dismay, I have man problems.”
“Oh. My. God.” Jordan’s high screech had Gigi holding the phone away from her ear. “What is going on?”
Resigned to having to talk about it, she said, “He’s making a play for more than I’m willing to give.”
“Come to my house. Right now.” Jordan ended the call before Gigi could tell her she didn’t want to come there.
Her phone buzzed with a text. You’d better be on your way. I’m your client, and I need you immediately.
“Goddamn everyone today,” Gigi muttered as she reached for the visor to pull it down so she could check the damage in the mirror. “Ugh, you look like shit.”
She didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone, but Jordan would hunt her down if she didn’t go to her.
I’m tracking your location, and your car hasn’t moved. Do I need to come to you?
Ease up, bitch, I’m coming.
Hurry up.
Another text, this time from Cooper. You’re making me suffer.
Gigi wanted to throw the phone out the window so no one could find her or talk to her or say things to her that could never be unheard, as much as she wished they could be. As she started the car and drove to Jordan, she strategized on how she could talk to Jordan about Cooper without giving too much away.
His words had opened a door she kept firmly shut, making her yearn for things that weren’t meant for her. Gigi had learned to stay in her lane, to keep her circle small and to not want more than she deserved. The life she had now was a dream come true from where she started as an emancipated teenager struggling to survive.
She wasn’t proud of some of the things she’d done to get by, but she’d scraped through, put herself through college and then law school and had a beautiful home, car and life that she owed to no one but herself. She’d done those things before the show happened to elevate her to another stratosphere financially, and she would always be proudest of those early accomplishments.
The last thing in the world she needed was a man to threaten everything she’d worked so hard to achieve. No matter how successful she became, she never stopped feeling as if she was still suspended on a high wire without a net to catch her if she tripped and fell. Tripping and falling was not an option.
Because Gansett Island was so damned tiny, she arrived at Jordan’s within minutes and pulled into the driveway, parking off to the side so she could leave quickly if need be. Gigi always had an exit plan and never allowed herself to be blocked in. She needed to remember that strategy when it came to dealing with Cooper and his campaign to turn their fling into something more.
Thankfully, Mason’s fire department SUV wasn’t there, so she wouldn’t have to deal with seeing her best friend’s happily ever after playing out in living, breathing color. She couldn’t handle that right now.
Jordan stood at the door, waiting for her. “You look like shit.”
“Thank you. I know.”
Jordan opened the screen door and gestured for Gigi to get inside. “You want a drink?”
“Yes, I do.” She also never drank during the day. That was one of her cardinal rules that she’d never broken until radioactive Cooper upped the ante.
Her best friend gave Gigi a curious look as she made her a vodka and soda with a twist of lime. Jordan kept Grey Goose, soda and limes on hand for Gigi, who accepted the drink from her and took a deep gulp as she recalled making her favorite drink for Cooper last night. Ugh, there he was again.
“What happened?” Jordan asked.
“It’s nothing.”
“Try that bullshit with someone who doesn’t know you better than anyone. What. Happened? And don’t say nothing.”
Gigi brought the drink with her when she took a seat on the sofa. “I slept with Cooper.”
Jordan came to sit next to her, holding the thermal cup full of ice water that she took with her everywhere she went. “Okay…”
Gigi told herself she wouldn’t squirm under the glare of Jordan’s intense stare. “It was just, you know…”
Jordan gasped. “It was good. Really good.”
Gigi shrugged. “I guess.”
“What else?”
“What do you mean what else? Isn’t that enough?”
“That’s not enough to cause this.” Jordan waved her hand in front of Gigi’s face. “You wouldn’t be puffy and splotchy from crying if that’s all it was.”
Damn her. This was why Gigi never should’ve bothered to make friends. They saw too much. “He said some stuff and whatever. It’s not going to happen.”
“What did he say?”
“Stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“He texted me—”
Jordan lunged for the phone and had it out of Gigi’s hand before she could anticipate her plan. Normally, Gigi would’ve tackled her to get it back, but Jordan was pregnant, so she didn’t do that. But she wanted to. Damn it, why had she given Jordan the code to her phone? Because Jordan had the code to Gigi’s life and vice versa.
As her friend read Cooper’s texts, her eyes darting back and forth, Gigi took another big drink from her glass and wished she could swig straight from the vodka bottle.
“Holy shit, Gigi.”
“Stop with that. It’s no big deal.”
“Yes, it is. It’s a massive, big deal, or you wouldn’t have been crying—or day drinking.”
“It’s not a big deal. He caught me at a weird moment when I’m running on three hours of sleep.”
Jordan started typing on Gigi’s phone, and only because she was sleep-deprived did it take her a second to realize she shouldn’t be letting that happen. “What’re you doing?”