“Should I say sorry?” I ask. She does have my sympathy, even though I think Tony and Emma are perfect for each other. Of course, Tony saved me from an attacker in Paris, so I have a bit of a soft spot for him.
“Sorry?” Cass repeats, then shakes her head. “No, no. There was never an HEA vibe with Emma, you know? She was more of the FWB variety.”
I mentally translate that to friends-with-benefits, but not a happily ever after girlfriend.
“But Siobhan?” Jamie asks.
“Wow, you guys really meant it when you said we had to talk about me.”
“It’s a heavy burden,” Jamie said, “but you’ll struggle through.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll consider it therapy. But,” she adds after polishing off the last of her mimosa. “I need a refill.”
“Ask, and ye shall receive.” Jamie tops her off, then does the same for the rest of us.
“Siobhan is … well, hell. She’s the reason I regret sleeping with straight girls who think they’re bi. No, that’s not fair. She really is bi, she just….” She trails off with a shake of her head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s over, and it’s been over for a long time.”
“I really am sorry,” I tell her. I can remember the two of them together and they were a great couple, going so far as to actually get engaged. I can’t even imagine a world where everything I thought I had with Damien just fell apart. It seriously breaks my heart.
“Have you seen her since she moved away?” I ask.
“Once. I saw her. She didn’t see me. And I chickened out.” She shrugged. “Like I said, old news.”
I’m about to offer more sympathy, but Ronnie races up to our blanket, her dark curls bouncing. “Aunt Cassidy,” she says, her voice stern and her hands on her hips. “You promised to hang out with us!”
“And duty calls,” Cass says, rising.
As she goes off to hang with the kids, Jamie catches my eye. “Too bad Cass isn’t bi. We could set her up with Eli Jones,” she says, referring to the movie star who lives next door. Or so I’ve been told. In all this time, I’ve only seen him a dozen or so times, and spoken to him fewer than three. The man is a mystery, but he’s also a great neighbor just by virtue of being so absent.
“If we’re hooking Cass up, it should be with Ollie,” I say.
“Good point,” Jamie concedes. “Besides, from what I hear around town, Eli is doing fine on his own.”
“I can’t believe Ollie’s still single,” Sylvia says.
Jamie and I exchange glances. “We’re beginning to think he will be forever.”
“No one can top Nikki,” Jamie adds.
I roll my eyes as Sylvia adds, “No woman, anyway.”
I frown, looking at her over the top of my sunglasses. “What?”
She shrugs. “Nothing. I just thought Ollie was gay the first time I met him. The picture’s stuck.”
That one knocks me back. I’d never gotten that vibe from Ollie, and I’ve known him almost my entire life.
“Or bi,” Sylvia continues. “I mean, there’s no denying he was gone on you. It irritated the crap out of Damien,” she adds with a small shake of her head.
Sylvia used to work Damien’s desk. Back then she was as discreet as could be, and I never realized just how much she knew from that vantage point. Now I know differently. Which, considering some remarkably delicious moments between Damien and me in his office, would embarrass the shit out of me if we weren’t such good friends.
“Like I said, it’s just a vibe.”
Jamie and I meet each other’s eyes. “It’s an interesting theory,” I admit. “But why wouldn’t he tell us?”
“Just because Syl knows doesn’t mean Ollie does,” Jamie says, and I have to concede the point. “I’m pretty sure his roommate at Quantico was gay,” she adds. “Maybe they had a wild affair.”
“Jamie…”
“Just speculating. I mean, they seemed to get along great.”
“You met him?” I ask.
“Remember? Ryan had lunch with one of his FBI buddies on our last trip to New York. Ollie was in town, too, so he joined us, and the ex-roomie came, too. He works in Jersey and they’re still friends. Damn, I can’t remember his name.”
“Just friends?” Sylvia asks.
“Well, they didn’t go at it on the lunch table if that’s what you mean.”
“I’m very glad to hear it,” I say. “Restaurants frown on that kind of thing. And as much as I want Ollie hooked up and happy, his love life is the last thing I want to talk about on a Sunday at the beach. We can analyze the shit out of him the next time we go out for dinner. Or, better yet, for drinks.”
“Speaking of, are we doing a bachelorette party?” Sylvia asks.
“Hell to the yes!”
“James, I’m already married.”
She shrugs. “So? We go to a strip club, Damien gets all hot and bothered knowing some guy is grinding in your face, and you get fucked like never before that night.”
Because she’s Jamie, I know she’s trying to make me blush, but I just smile sweetly. “Except I can get that without some random guy grinding in my face. Believe me when I say that Damien —”
“Lalalalala.” Sylvia sticks her fingers in her ears. “Hello, people. Brother-in-law and boss. I do not need to hear that.”
“Come on, Syl,” Jamie presses. “You’d be there, too. And I bet Jackson’s just as wild in bed. And I know Ryan is.” She leans back, clearly pleased with herself. “Sounds like a seriously great night all around to me.”
“Does she have an off button?”
I shake my head. “Sadly, I’ve never found one.”
“It’s my quality,” Jamie says.
Sylvia peers at her. “Your what?”
“That je ne sais quoi that makes me so lovable.”
“Being an obnoxious bitch is your quality?”
Jamie glares at me, though she’s obviously holding back a laugh. “Girls! Come bury your mommy in the sand.”
My two and Ronnie squeal, then start heading my way, kicking up sand. I climb to my feet and race the other direction, then get tumbled down by a pack of wild girls, laughing my ass off and thankful that after so many years, I love my friends even more now than I did when we were all single.
10
The smell of bacon frying pulls me from the sweetest dream in which Damien kissed me all the way down my body, then traced words all over my body with his fingertip.
I stretch, wanting to stay in place and enjoy the aroma and the memory, but even though I’m on vacation, there are things to do, so I sit up, toss the sheets aside, and then laugh out loud, when I see the little heart right over my sex— a heart with an arrow and N&D inside.
I take a picture, then text it to my husband.
I like what I woke up to. Can’t wait to properly thank the artist.
I’m in a meeting. This text is the highlight.
Hopefully only to you.
Always only mine.
I send him a kiss emoji, then close my phone. Awake and happy, I head to the kitchen to greet the rest of the family, then find the kids and Bree in the kitchen. Gregory’s there, too, which surprises me as most mornings he’s invisible as he goes about overseeing the gardeners, repairmen, and cleaning staff.