When I walked in at Kitty’s, Jessie looked up from the couch with worried eyes, her arm around Kitty. I took over, Jessie slipping out to the bathroom while I held Kitty. She struggled to pull herself together enough to give me the details.
“So,” she bawled, “after work, I was cleaning out my planters to get them ready for spring, and I found . . .” she held up a wadded-up pair of dirt-covered underwear, “these! At our house, Annie! He brought someone to our house. My house! That I paid for with my Hollywood money! He had the nerve to bring some tramp back to my house!”
My jaw fell open, until I noticed the lacy edge on the underwear looked very familiar. “Hang on, Kitty.”
I fished out my phone, firing off a text to Nick.
What did you do with my thanksgiving underwear
Nick Oberbeck
I know. I just put it together
We have to come clean. Bring the boys down here and we’ll do it together?
On our way.
It’ll be okay, angel. They love us.
“Um, Kitty, don’t kill me, but I have something to tell you. The boys are coming here so we can tell you all at once.”
“What?” Her eyes were round and scared. “What would you have to do with this?” Then her stare turned murderous. “Annabelle Jane Markham, I opened my fucking house to you. You’ve been sleeping with my husband?”
“Kitty, no—”
“The maid of honor at my goddamn wedding and after all these years, you stole him from me?”
It hurt to have my best friend accusing me of fucking her husband, but why wouldn’t she have a reason to be suspicious? I’d been involved with a married man before.
“That’s not the news, if you can just wait—”
Mikey and Jessie lived down the street from Guy and Kitty, so I expected them to arrive quickly. Thankfully, the front door opened at that moment, Nick, Mikey, and Guy coming in looking like absolute hell. Mikey probably because he worried about everyone else. Guy because the love of his life thought he was cheating on her. And Nick because we were about to be exposed.
Greg followed on their heels, running straight for me and jumping in my lap.
Mikey sat next to Jessie, and Guy tried to put his arm around Kitty. She shot him a death glare. Guilty until proven innocent, that was how Kitty had always been. It’s great when she’s hating someone on your behalf, but not so great when you’re on the receiving end. I shot Guy a sympathetic glance.
“Ma puce, please,” he begged.
Nick settled in next to me, looking at me cautiously.
“We can put an end to this misunderstanding right now,” I said, swallowing hard. “So the underwear are mine. They’re from Thanksgiving—”
“You didn’t have underwear on Thanksgiving because you fucked my husband?!” Kitty shrieked.
“Sweetheart,” Guy said, putting a hand on her leg. “Let her talk.”
“Because Nick and I . . . had a moment in your backyard.”
Nick took my hand and squeezed it as we waited through the silence. Then everything happened at once. Mikey, forever the loudest, was heard first.
“I fucking TOLD YOU, Jessalyn!” Mikey shouted. “Boom! Oh! I told you so hard! Weeks ago!”
Jessie gave a reluctant nod, raising her eyebrows with a laugh. “Yep. You did.”
“Fifty bucks, Miss Welsh,” he said. “You owe me! Oh! God, it feels good. Stelle, I told you, too! I knew it wasn’t some random chick.”
Guy paid zero attention to Mikey, holding Kitty’s hands and looking into her eyes. “I told you I’d never, Kitty Bird. Never.”
