Chapter 17 I need help. My best friend and I have been in a serious relationship for almost three years. We moved in together a year ago and have talked about getting married and starting a family. We're both ready to take the next step. But here's the problem-he's not talked to me in two weeks because he found out that I'm a flirt. (His friends witnessed some of my antics at a bar. Good times.) I admit it, okay? I love to flirt. I love other men flirting with me. Dare I say that I need the attention? I don't do it in front of my boyfriend, and I have zero intention of letting it lead into anything more than a few innuendos and winks while I'm out with my friends or on a work trip. I say it's a harmless way of bolstering my confidence. He says it's cheating. So ... am I the villain? For the thirtieth time, I read through the question Gianna sent me to answer for the column. For the thirtieth time, I'm stupefied. When I agreed to submit a response to an anonymous question, I expected it to be easy. After all, one of my not-so-finest qualities is that I can be judgmental. But as I sit with the question, I find that it's not easy at all. I tuck my legs beneath me and curl up into the corner of my couch. My first instinct was to tell the woman that if she values her relationship, she'll stop flirting. But I got halfway through that response and decided I didn't really agree with what I was writing. Flirting in and of itself isn't a bad thing. Then I started a reply that if her man can't trust her not to actually cheat, then she needs to run. It didn't take long until I realized that wasn't a good answer, either. It's so hard when you're asked to be judgmental on the spot. "Come in," I shout, closing my computer when a knock comes from the entryway. "It's me!" Audrey's voice rings through my apartment before her pretty face appears around the corner. "Hey!" I smile at her. "Hey. How was work?" "We're not talking about it." She winces. "It was one of those days. But there was one bit of sunshine today." "Really? Tell me." The door clicks open again, and the telltale sign of Gianna's heels clicks against the linoleum floor. "Have I ever mentioned that I loathe street parking?" Audrey looks at me and grins. "Only every time you do it." "I wasn't born to be a parallel parker." Gianna sweeps through the room with main-character energy and collapses into a rocking chair that I picked up at a consignment store around Christmastime. "I need one of those cars that do it for you." "They make those?" I wrinkle my nose. "I think you imagined that." Gianna shakes her head. "No, they do. I have no idea what they're called, but I was boinking a dude from Franklin who drove one. It's a cool feature." "Boinking." Audrey giggles. "Where do you come up with these terms?" "Fine. Fucking. Is that better?" Gianna sticks her tongue out at Audrey. "Anyway, I'm here. Can someone fill me in on why we were summoned here on a rainy Thursday night? I canceled a nail appointment for this, I'll have you know." All eyes are on me. I'm the one who called the emergency meeting, and I'm embarrassed about it. Going with Gray to Sugar Creek tomorrow is no big deal. I've told myself this a thousand times. It's a free ride because he was going there anyway. But despite how many times I say it, whether it's just repeating it in my head or speaking it aloud, my body refuses to believe that I'm not about to run a marathon with lions. The adrenaline and anxiety are real. I uncoil my legs and plant them on the floor. My insides squirm with the anticipation of telling my friends about my trip tomorrow, and I wish I could get away with not telling them at all. They're going to overreact and probably make my nervousness worse before they make it better. Why am I nervous to begin with? And what am I going to wear? God, I'm a mess. And I hate being messy. I just need a moment to pull myself together. "Before I get into why I asked you to come over, can you finish your sunshine story, Aud?" I ask. She beams. "Yes. Okay. So Andrew called me last night about Mom and Dad's anniversary. We're throwing them a little get-together with their friends. It's going to be so cute. Anyway, while we were chatting, he might've mentioned that a few of the guys he hangs out with rented a little house on the Cape for a weekend coming up." She scoots to the edge of her seat, her eyes twinkling. "And guess who got an invite?" She squeals, tapping her feet against the floor. "If I could do a cartwheel, I would." Gianna and I exchange a grin. "I'm guessing your crush will be there?" I say. "Yeah. It took a bit of finessing to find out if he was going without straight-up asking Andrew, but I managed." "This might be it, Audrey," Gianna says, pointing at her. "This is your chance to put some moves on your man." Audrey flushes. "I don't have any moves. How can I be your friend and not have moves?" "Because you won't let me teach you," Gianna says. "How much time do we have? I can make you a little vixen, but I'll need a few weeks." I fire a look at Gianna, warning her to tread lightly. We don't want to make Audrey freak out. She's waited too long for this. "You don't need moves, Aud. Guys love girls like you. You're sweet and pretty." "You're fresh meat," Gianna deadpans. Audrey curls her nose. "Nice visual." "Did you bring my shirt, by any chance?" Gianna asks. "If you did, I don't want to forget it." "It's in my car," Audrey says. "And don't try to hem it yourself next time, please. You just make it harder for me in the end." Gianna shrugs. "Your turn, Astrid," Audrey says, settling in for story time. "What's going on? Is this about the Trace thing? You met with the attorney today, didn't you?" I toss a lock of hair over my shoulder and try to appear as cool as I can ... when I'm really toeing the edge of a cliff. "So Dixon's office called me earlier this week and canceled," I say, my voice nice and controlled. Good, good. Keep it up. "They couldn't reschedule me until June." Audrey's face falls. "I'm sorry. That stinks so bad. I can look around for someone else. Don't panic." "She's not panicking," Gianna says slowly, leaning forward with a smug grin on her face. "Why aren't you panicking, Astrid?" "She's not panicking because she knows we'll help her, right, Astrid?" Audrey asks. I bite my lip and dodge Gianna's gaze. "No, Auddie," Gianna says. "Think about it. Astrid has her life planned to the hour. You're telling me that this fell through and she's all breezy about it. You know her better than that." Damn you, Gianna. Audrey cocks her head to the side. "You might be right." I sigh and shift in my seat. Might as well go in headfirst ... ish. "I don't need you to find me another name, Audrey, because I actually found someone who will give me a free consultation tomorrow afternoon." "Great," Audrey says, grinning. "That's such great news." "His name is Joe." I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "I have an appointment with him tomorrow afternoon." "Stop touching your hair," Gianna says, eyeing me so closely that nothing is going to get by her. "And stop repeating yourself. Get to the point that you clearly don't want to make but feel like you have to share." I groan, putting my hands on my lap. The longer I wait to lay it out there, the more suspicious they're going to be. It's time to rip the Band-Aid off. "Here's the thing." I pause. "Gray set it up for me." Gianna laughs, falling back in her chair. She has a victorious smile on her face that leaves me perplexed. Why does she look like she just won? "Darn it," Audrey says, stomping her foot. "I don't have twenty bucks in cash on me. Can I pay you the next time I see you?" "That's fine." Gianna snickers, looking at me. "We bet twenty bucks on whether you'd cave to that good-looking motherfucker by the end of the month or not. I won." "What?" I ask, my mouth hanging open. Audrey sighs, frowning. "I thought you'd hold out at least a month. You're usually so much harder than this." "I think the problem is that he's hard, if you know what I'm saying," Gianna says out of the side of her mouth. "I didn't cave to anyone," I protest, looking between them. "You don't understand." "What, exactly, do we not understand?" Gianna asks. "Your so-called mortal enemy set you up with an attorney to help you out of a bind. It seems pretty straightforward to me." No, no, no. "It's not like that." "That's not mortal-enemy shit," Gianna says. I want to disagree with her, but I'm not sure how to approach it. It doesn't appear to be enemy shit, but we're not necessarily mortal enemies anymore. He's not my favorite person, and I'm sure I'm not his either. But we've managed to find a middle ground that I don't hate. I wish I did hate it because gosh, it was easier, but I don't. "It's not a big deal," I insist despite the chaos inside me saying differently. "He was standing by me in the parking lot when the call from Dixon's office came in, and Gray overheard it. That's it." "And then he gave you directions to the attorney's office?" Gianna asks. Her red lips are pressed together in a self-satisfied grin. "Need me to ride with you tomorrow?" I glare at her and get to my feet, unable to sit still any longer. "I could go," Audrey says. "I can cancel my meetings tomorrow. We can take a girls' trip. It'll be fun." Gianna sighs. "She doesn't need us to go, Auddie." Gianna slowly brings her face to mine. "She's going with Gray." Sometimes, I really dislike Gianna. The world wobbles, then comes to a slow crawl. I move across the room to a nonworking fireplace with fake logs to put some distance between us. Gianna holds up her hands. "Hey, don't be pissed at me because I can read the damn room." "Okay." Audrey nods. "I see where this is going." "It's not going anywhere." My face heats as I look between them. "We called a truce, and he's helping me like I help him. That's all." Gianna smirks. "I like the reciprocation aspect of your relationship. You'll appreciate that in the later stages." My stomach tightens, and I shoo those thoughts away. I'm not going there. "I'm assuming you two are getting along much better now," Audrey says softly. "Is that true?" "Yes. But it's a working relationship built on very thin ice. I need the two of you not to take this in the ways you're taking it." "Wait until you see how you're going to be taking it," Gianna mutters. I glare at her, and she laughs. "I'm kidding. I'll stop." Audrey glances at Gianna before returning her attention to me. "Tell us what you need. We're here for you." Thank God for Audrey. I blow out a shaky breath because I don't know what I need. I don't even know why I called them. It was a silly decision that I made in a moment of panic because I'm overwhelmed with stress, and I broke. Everyone breaks sometimes. Gianna stands, kicking off her heels. "What are you wearing?" My shoulders soften. "I don't know." She motions for Audrey and me to follow her into my bedroom. Once we're in there, she flips on the light and wastes no time flinging open my closet doors. "Oh, you look hot as hell in this." Gianna pulls a lacy black camisole off a hanger. I shake my head. "That's the wrong vibe. I'm meeting an attorney, for Pete's sake." Audrey sits beside me on my bed. "We're going to be in a truck for over an hour each way," I say. "He mentioned that he wanted to stop and see his brother, so I think we might be doing that. I'm not sure. And his brother lives on a ranch so⁠-" "Stop it," Gianna hisses. "A ranch? You're freaking kidding me right now." Audrey moans. "If Gray puts on Wranglers and cowboy boots, I might faint." "Don't faint," Gianna says, laughing. "That's the moment when you ride that man like it's your damn job." I cover my face with my hands. This isn't helping. At all. Vivid images of Gray on a ranch with sweat dripping down his chest invade my mind, and there's no pushing them out. Suddenly, imagining him in cowboy boots isn't as funny. I can see him wearing a cowboy hat, and I can't completely dismiss the ripple it causes in my core. That's it. I'm losing my mind. Audrey hops off the bed and joins Gianna in front of my closet. It takes her just a minute to pull out a teal T-shirt that Gianna bought me for my birthday last year. The fabric is thicker than a standard tee, and the V-neck stops a hair above the tops of my boobs. It's not too revealing and never dips low enough to show off my chest ... but it feels like it might. And, according to Gianna, there's an allure that comes along with that. "What about this?" Audrey asks. "Pair those with your gold stars that have the little diamonds in the center. It's comfortable enough for a road trip, conservative enough for an attorney's office, and fun enough for a ranch." She glances into my closet again. "You're only going for the afternoon, right?" "Yeah. I think we're just going to the attorney's office, and then he wants to see his brother. Maybe he'll visit his brother while I'm talking to the attorney. I don't know." Gianna pulls out my favorite pair of jeans. "Your ass looks amazing in these." "Where are your white sneakers with the tan detailing?" Audrey asks. "They're in the shoe rack by the door." "Wear those," Audrey says. "It'll keep it looking fun and fresh, and if you do wind up on a ranch, your toes will be covered." I wouldn't have thought about that. Good call. I take the items they chose and hang them on the back of my bedroom door. Having this decision be over quells a bit of the nerves blooming in my stomach. At least now I can worry and overthink about something else. "Now that's done, how about we order pizza and do your nails? They look like trash," Gianna says, shrugging. "You can't go to all the trouble of having us pick out an outfit and not do your nails." "I'll order the pizza," Audrey says, heading toward the living room. "You figure out the nails." Gianna wraps her arm around my shoulders and smiles at me. "How are you feeling?" "Honestly? Better." I smile sheepishly. Gray and I are barely on cordial terms these days, and our relationship is strictly professional. I don't even really like the man, and I know he feels the same about me. So what I wear on this trip doesn't matter. It's not like I'm trying to draw his attention-or anyone else's, for that matter. I deal with enough men in my work life. I sure as heck don't need one in my private life, too. "I don't know why I got all weird about this," I say. "I'm sorry." She laughs. "You don't have to understand. I do. And we got you, friend. One of these days, you're going to believe that." My heart swells as she leads me to the bathroom to retrieve my manicure kit. Thank God for good friends.