I clinked my glass against hers. “To brilliant partnerships.”
“To brilliant women.” She lifted her glass once more and took a deep drink.
I sipped the bubbly, grateful for friends like Christine Hamilton-Carey, and like Ivy Carmichael, who’d passed on a little tidbit about how happy Kate had seemed on Saturday night with her “friend.”
A sexy man-friend who’d made her smile.
And I was glad of that.
I set my drink down with a knowing smile. “None of this subterfuge would have been necessary if they’d simply admitted that we always know what’s best.”
We checked out the scene at Edge from the lounge, where we were set up with a chilled bottle of bubbly and more breathing room than there was at the bar.
Christine shook her head. “So stubborn. It’s a good thing we are benevolent fairy godmothers.”
We toasted again and debriefed the last few weeks. For some time, I’d been watching Kate, my brilliant, irreplaceable Kate, peddling for all she was worth just to keep from losing ground on the mountain of trouble left by her last relationship. I could sense she was on the cusp of burning out, and I knew with a little help she could get over the hump. I’d made sure she was well paid for everything she did, but Sin City Escorts was an opportunity for me to give Kate the opportunity to gain traction with a hefty bonus. Was it on the generous side? That didn’t matter nearly as much as the risk of losing her.
I wanted her to have everything she wanted in life because she was valuable to me. Not just for the business. She had a brilliant insight into people and what they wanted, what motivated them, but she was a kind, hardworking, honest woman who didn’t deserve what her horrible ex had done to her.
But I didn’t just want her to be able to pay off her debt. I wanted her to be happy.
And that was where Christine’s brother had come in. I’d had a feeling about him.
Not that kind of feeling.
A feeling that had come from watching Kate when her group of friends made plans that included that man.
Christine crossed her legs. “You are a genius, Trish. There’s nothing I want more than to see my little brother happy.”
I arched a brow. “And what about you, darling? What are you going to do about you being happy?”
Christine simply shrugged. “Someday I’ll find love again. When it’s the right time, I’ll feel it.”
But love took more than a feeling, and it definitely took more than waiting around for “someday.” If my friend didn’t show some initiative, I would have to show some myself and find someone for her too. I’d already outlined a plan for just that possibility.
Sipping my champagne, I asked, “Have I ever introduced you to Daniel, my driver?”
“Your driver?” she asked, as if that was so incredible.
“Don’t be a snob, darling.”
Christine all but choked on her bubbly. “That’s not what I meant.”
I knew it wasn’t, but I also knew she’d want to prove it and not reject the idea without consideration.
“He’s quite handsome. He’s friendly. His dog can ride with him on his motorcycle, which is too adorable for words.”
“Apparently it isn’t, since you have so much to say about it,” she said with a bit of a smirk.
“He also owns the limo company.”
“If he’s all that, why don’t you keep him for yourself, hmm?”
I smiled because she hadn’t yet offered a real objection. “You know he’s not my type,” I said.
Christine patted me on the knee. “I know he’s not.”
She kicked her foot some more, watched the crowd, sipped her champagne, and I waited, doing much the same thing, but without making a silent pro and con list at the same time.
Finally, she drained her glass, and said, “All right, I’ll do it.”
“What was that?” I asked, cocking my ear her way. “I’m right, and you’ll do as I say?”
She pretended to aim the very pointy toe of her pump at my shin, but of course her heart wasn’t in it. “I said I’ll meet your driver. You should be more gracious in victory.”
“I know,” I said solemnly. “Since I have so much practice at being right.”
And I would be right about Daniel and Christine too. She, like the other women we had cultivated friendships or mutual interests with, did so much for so little credit. She deserved to be happy, and I had a feeling about Daniel.
Later, with a glow of satisfaction, I headed home. Annabelle was waiting for me to fix her supper, and there would be no snuggles if I came in too late.
Well, there would be snuggles eventually. Annabelle never held a grudge for long. That was the lovely thing about rescue spaniels. Nothing was so bad that a bowl of kibble and some tummy rubs couldn’t fix it.
Humans could take a lesson from that.
27
Christine
I should never have said yes to the date.
Why did I say yes to this date?
Because of Trish. Because of Trish and her damn skill for persuasion.
I’d been on dates since Richard passed. Only two, but they stuck out like twin sore thumbs in my memory.
The first one, I’d started crying midway through the first drink. That was great.
The second one, well, there just hadn’t been that spark.
Translation: the date was a dud, and I couldn’t blame the guy.
Even though I couldn’t remember his name.
But going 0 for two was enough to make me think I wasn’t going to feel that spark again. I wasn’t hung up on Richard. I’d mourned, I’d grieved, I’d gone to therapy. And with a lot of work, I’d been able to say goodbye. So it wasn’t that I was hung up on him. Richard would’ve wanted me to date again. He’d even said so when he was first taken ill.
So perhaps the fault was mine.
The lack of spark was on me.
Maybe I didn’t have it in me to go through it all again.
A heart that wasn’t up for another beating.
Even if Trish convinced me to focus solely on the fun side of this date.
It’ll be terrific! You’ll get back out there! Trust me.
I just needed to get dressed. It was just a date, after all. Just fun. I needed to just get dressed and get it over with.
On the bathroom vanity, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it as I held the towel closer around my breasts.
And of course it was Trish. She could sense me giving up from a mile away. I swear the woman had friend radar. She was so damn sharp. She always knew when I needed a pick-me-up.
Trish: I’m waiting for an outfit pic. Can you see me twiddling my thumbs?
Christine: No. I don’t have bionic vision.
A few seconds later a gif arrived of a woman twiddling thumbs. I knew an order when I saw one. But even so, I wasn’t quite ready to follow it.
Christine: Confession: I can’t do this.
Trish: Truth: Yes you can. Send the pic.
I glanced at the dress I’d laid out on my bed. It was tight and hugged me in all the places I liked. Plus, the pretty blue that perfectly matched my eyes.