She thought about defending herself, but she doubted Libby meant it as a jab. She was just being sensitive. That thought almost made her snort out loud—when had Blair Myers Hansen become sensitive?
The hostess approached them a few minutes later and led them to their seats. They spent the next hour and a half talking about their jobs, their mutual friends, Megan and Josh’s life in Seattle, and a new photography project of Libby’s. The conversation steered clear of all topics even peripherally related to Neil, Garrett, and the wedding. Which left Blair with very little to discuss.
“I’ve heard this place has amazing cheesecake,” Libby said, taking a sip of her wine. “Want a slice?”
Blair laughed. “No way. I have to fit into my dress on Saturday.”
“One piece of cheesecake won’t hurt,” Megan teased.
Blair stuck to her guns. “Nope. I have enough things to worry about without adding the fear of being unable to zip up my dress.”
“Well, in that case,” Libby said, flagging down the waitress. “Let’s pay the bill and head over to the bar down the street and get a drink.”
Blair shook her head. “I can’t. It’s a work night.”
“Come on, Blair.” Megan tilted her head and gave her a pouty face. “It’s too early to call it a night. Who knows when we’ll be able to hang out again.”
She only had one meeting scheduled, so she could afford a later start than usual. Especially since it was officially her day off. “Okay.”
They left the bar and were heading down the street when a woman emerged from a doorstep and grabbed Blair’s arm.
She stared up at Blair with intense brown eyes. “Your fortune for five dollars.”
Blair tried to pull free, but the woman’s grip was like a vise. Her first thought was that the panhandlers in this part of town had gotten significantly more aggressive, but the woman didn’t look homeless. In fact, she was clean and fairly well dressed in a long flowing skirt and shirt. Tight black ringlets framed her face.
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ll pay,” Libby said, rummaging through her purse and pulling out a bill. “Come on. You have to admit you of all people need your fortune read.”
Blair’s body tensed. “You know I don’t believe in that crap.”
“Humor us.” Libby handed the money to the woman. “I’m paying for it. Consider it my bridesmaid’s gift.
“Fine.” She held out her hand to the woman, palm up. “Read it.”
The woman took it and shook her head. “I don’t read palms. I read souls.”
Blair didn’t hide her amusement. “By all means. Read my soul.” Her grin widened. “If you can find it.”
The woman’s eyes held Blair’s for several uncomfortable seconds before she spoke. “You are at a crossroads both professionally and in love.”
Blair’s smile fell.
“You’ve been cursed.”
Blair tried to jerk her hand free, but the woman’s fingers dug into her flesh. “Now this is just bullshit,” Blair said.
“It’s up to you to break the curse. Everything depends on making the right choice,” the woman said, releasing her hold. “You don’t have much time.” Then she smiled. “For twenty-nine dollars, I can give you a tarot reading. If you’ll just come into my office . . .” She motioned to the door behind her, and Blair realized they were standing in the awning of her psychic shop.
Blair turned to give Libby a scathing glare. “You set this up.”
Libby lifted her hands in defense. “No. I swear.”
Megan flashed the psychic a smile. “Thank you, but we’re going to pass.” She grabbed Blair’s arm and tugged her away.
“That was bullshit, Libby.” Blair felt her cheeks grow hot, which only made her angrier.
“How could I set this up, Blair?” her friend asked. “You picked the restaurant. I never come down to Brookside. I didn’t even know this place was here.”
“Come on,” Megan said. “Let it go.”
Blair dug her heels into the sidewalk. “I think I should just go home.” Though she’d die before admitting it out loud, the fortune teller had scared her. Blair reminded herself that the psychic had thrown out general terms in a fishing expedition, looking for a topic to narrow in on based on her reaction. But while her head knew this, the unreasonable part of her considered going back for some answers.
She had finally lost her mind. What if she was making the wrong choice? “Fine.”
“Great!” Megan exclaimed, ignoring her short response.
The bar was a short walk away, and as soon as Blair got through the door, she ordered a whiskey.
“Don’t you want to find a table first?” Megan asked.
“No.”
Libby ordered a glass of wine and Megan a beer, and once they had their drinks, they found an empty table in the back of the bar.
They’d barely gotten settled when Libby looked at Blair’s left hand and asked, “So you’re wearing the same ring?”
The panic rose out of nowhere, and she wasn’t even sure why. “Yeah,” she forced out. “It’s practical.” She took a sip, trying to hide her shaking hand.
“Yes,” Libby murmured. “It is practical.”
Blair took another sip. “Just say it, Libby. Say what you’ve been dying to say all night.”
She shook her head. “Blair, we really do just want you to be happy. You don’t look happy.”
“How could I be happy when you two won’t accept my choices?”
“Enough, Libby,” Megan said, taking a big gulp of her beer. “Change the topic.”
The three women sat in silence until Megan finally said, “Blair, we stand by you no matter what. Right, Libby?”
Libby nodded. “My lips are sealed.”
Still, their mood—already dampened from the encounter on the street—was grim.
“Maybe we should just call it a night,” Blair said.
“No,” Megan protested, anger darting into her eyes. “Not yet. We used to have fun together, and we’re going to have fun, dammit! We’ll stay here all night if we have to!”
The two women looked at her and burst out laughing. Megan joined them and ended up laughing the hardest of all of them.
“I’ve missed this,” Blair confessed.
Libby grinned. “Me too.”
“See?” Megan countered. “We all miss this, and it’s wonderful that we’re here together. Let’s make the most of it.”
They ordered another round of drinks, and Blair felt her panic retreat. Maybe this was what she needed—a night of fun with her friends.
They’d finished their second drinks, and Megan ordered another round. Blair knew she probably shouldn’t drink any more, but she picked up the drink and took a sip as soon as it was placed in front of her.
“Oh, crap.” Megan’s eyes widened.
“What?” Libby and Blair asked in unison.
“I think we should go.” Megan turned to her, her forehead wrinkled with worry. “We didn’t do this, Blair. I swear.”