Slowly, her shoulders relax. She sits back down next to me, but I can still see the protective fire in her expression. “You’re telling me those two idiots?—”
“—stormed in, aired grievances like it was Festivus, and used my grand opening as their personal Thunderdome.” My laugh comes out jagged, way too close to a sob. “Meanwhile, my client list is canceling in real time. Haven’t you seen the posts?”
Her nose wrinkles. “Yeah. And let me guess—they were swinging their dicks to decide whose fault it was?”
A cracked snort escapes me. “Fought, smoldered, acted like I was a prize goat in some medieval tournament.” My voice breaks on the last word.
Liz squeezes my hand tighter. “Oh, Eden.”
I scrub at my face, frustration choking me. “Men suck, Liz. They swoop in, puff their chests, play savior, and I’m the one left with injuries, canceled clients, and a Yelp reputation circling the drain. They get to sleep around and everyone calls them players. I kiss a guy in a restaurant, and I’m unprofessional.”
The ice pack slips, shocking my skin again. Before I can adjust it, my phone lights up on the coffee table.
Nate
Pick up, Trouble.
Another buzz.
Nate
Please. Just tell me you’re okay.
Three more texts from Nate, each one more desperate than the last. Each message presses more on my chest.
And then—Leo.
Leo
Call me.
We’re not done.
You shouldn’t be alone right now.
The phone buzzes nonstop, vibrating across the wood.
Nate
I’ll fix it.
Liz jeers at the screen. “Wow. You’re surrounded with dumb, hot men who think flooding you with texts counts as an apology.”
The phone pings again. Another Nate message.
Nate
Don’t freeze me out.
“An escort would’ve been cleaner. No mess, no drama, no injuries, no PR disaster. Just a couple orgasms and everyone tips the driver.” Liz gives the phone a disgustedflick. “You need to block these idiots.”
A jagged laugh tears out of me.
Liz shifts the ice, studying me as if I were a puzzle she intends to solve with or without my cooperation. “So what now?”
I bark a laugh that very well could belong in a psych ward. “What now? I open my shiny new clinic tomorrow with three cancellations already logged and my face trending under Russo’s girlfriend-gate.”
Her expression twists. “Catchy. Rolls right off the tongue.”
