“I still do,” I said, waving her off. “I don’t believe in all that.” Despite my brush-off, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Itwasbullshit . . . wasn’t it?
“I believe in it—and Lucy does, too. Once she sees you and David together, she’ll understand.”
“Gretch,youhaven’t even seen us together,” I said.
“Well,” she said, drawing out the word and burying her nose back in the menu. “I may have spied on you guys a little when he came to my apartment Thursday night.”
“Gretchen,” I scolded but laughed.
She smiled. “Heard anything from Bill?”
“Not a peep.” I sipped my water and browsed the list of brunch items. “Maybe you could find out how Andrew’s visit went?”
“I’ll call Luce later,” she said, flipping the menu closed. “I’m going to order a club sandwich. Man, I still can’t believe you’re head-over-heels in love.”
At her abruptness, I grinned. “I’m head over heels insomething. I mean, what happens to all my stuff? Our joint bank account? I have some savings, but it’s pitiful in comparison. I mean, what happens to that money?”
Gretchen looked sympathetic. “Divorce. That’s what happens.”
“It’s going to be hell,” I said, raking my fingers over my scalp and resting my head in my hands. “My parents’ divorce took almost a year. Your parents’ was even more contentious.”
“But it was worth it in the end,” she said. “And yours will be, too.”
“I don’t even have a lawyer. Billisa lawyer, so of course I’ve never needed one before. I guess I should ask my . . .”Shit. I hadn’t even encountered for all of the difficult conversations ahead of me. I groaned. “I’m so not looking forward to telling my dad about this.”
Gretchen grimaced. “Will he be upset?”
“How can he be?” I asked. “He gets divorced all the time.”
She giggled. “He’s only been divorcedtwice. But maybe he’ll know a good lawyer.”
We both looked up when David walked into the restaurant. Something always shifted when he entered a room. I didn’t call him over as he scanned the restaurant but took the opportunity to appreciate my new . . .what, boyfriend?. . .from afar. I couldn’t decide who was sexier—businessman David in his tailored suits or this weekend David I laid eyes on now in jeans, a hoodie over a t-shirt, and aviators.
When he spotted us, he stalked in our direction. “What’d I say about your phone?” he asked, no regard for the other diners looking at him.
He sounded angry, but I barely noticed. I could only admire the sexy way David moved, surprisingly graceful for someone as tall and sturdily built as him.
His hand found the back of my chair and the other planted on the table, boxing me in. He focused in on me like he was waiting for a response, but I’d been too busy appreciating him to remember the question.
“What?” I asked. “Did you say something?”
He whipped off his sunglasses and cocked his head at me. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you since yesterday. You haven’t returned any of my texts or e-mails, and my phone calls won’t go through. Hell, I almost drove over last night just to make sure you hadn’t skipped town on me.”
“Huh.” I took out my phone and showed him the screen. “I don’t have any missed calls.”
He took the phone from me and straightened up. After a moment of swiping and tapping with a furrowed brow—a sexy look I doubted I’d ever grow tired of seeing—he cursed under his breath.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s disconnected.”
Reality sent a tremor through the moment. “Bill must’ve canceled my plan,” I said.
“Sounds like something he’d do,” Gretchen volunteered.
I sighed, took the phone back, and mentally added a new phone plan to my growing list of expenses. I bit my bottom lip, looking up at David. “Sorry. I didn’t even think to check my e-mail last night.”
He closed the space between us to kiss me. “Hi, beautiful.”
