“Cut the bullshit.” Toni sat forward on the sofa, spilling the irate cat out of her lap in the process. As the cat headed out of the room, Toni ordered, “Talk.”
“You know I don’t talk about my past—”
“I do, but Ialso knowthat I had to crawl out of my cozy bed with my naked woman in it, and go out into the cold weather to fetch your drunk ass. Then I had to watch Addie fuss and bother over you instead of crawling back into my bed.”
“Was she still naked?” Kaelee joked.
Toni leveled a look that would once have been intimidating—okay, it was still a little intimidating—before replying, “No, she was not naked then. I’m not a fool. She was all wrapped up in a fluffy little jacket and pink sweatpants and… that’s not the damn point. Don’t try to distract me, Kaelee.Youdon’t drink like that. I’d know if you did. My father was a founding member of the drunk assholes club. You, Kaelee, are not. So what happened?”
Toni crossed her arms and waited until Kaelee relented.
“My father heard about my book deal, and he called me. I didn’t cope.” Kaelee sipped her tea, trying to decide just how much to share. At least this was slightly easier than the other part of the conversation, the part about why Greta was the one Kaelee called. “He doesn’t approve.”
“You never mention your family. Did you talk to Em about them yet? Did you tell Greta?”
“No. I told you I haven’t spoken to any of them since I left roughly a decade ago. I didn’t think he even knewhowto reach me.” Kaelee wrapped her hands around the mug and hoped upon hopethat she wasn’t going to fall apart in front of Toni. She probably had done so last night, but at least the memories of it were hazy. “He’s not a fan of women who love women.”
“Are you in danger?” Toni asked, cutting to the chase.
“No…? I don’t think so. Probably not?”
“Did he threaten you?”
That was a much harder question. Kaelee rolled over the things she could retain from that call. She was sober, but fear could be just as circuit frying as wine. “He told me to put a stop to the book. He’s… embarrassed by it.”
Toni looked contemplative. “We’re going to keep in touch about this. I think you need to talk to Em and to Charlie. She’s your publicist, right?” Kaelee nodded and Toni continued, “Do you understand? You need totalk to them. You will do so. Probably Greta or Em first. But you also need to keep me in the loop. You’re in my wedding. That is, like, legitimate friendship, so it means I get to fucking worry over you. Clear?”
“You don’t need to—”
“I said no bullshit.” Toni scowled at her. “If this wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t have gotten skunk drunk, and I wouldn’t have had to go peel you off a hotel bathroom floor.”
“Fine.” Kaelee felt tears threaten again. “I don’t want you to think I’m a fuckup.”
“Dealing with other people’s drama isnothow we define ourselves. Do you think I’m a fuckup?” Toni stared at her now, as if weighing things Kaelee couldn’t see.
“Obviously not.”
“I sold my books because my dad took another mortgage on my mother’s house, ran up debt, and died. I got lucky andThe Whitechapel Widowdid well, but it was a Hail Mary pass for me.” Toni held her gaze as she told her this. “So I’m not going to judge you because your father hates queers. I will point out right now that I hate him by default. I have no time for homophobes or bad fathers.”
Kaelee nodded. “Thank you.”
Just as she relaxed, though, Kaelee caught a look on Toni’s face, and her throat tightened. The other shoe was about to hit the floor—or maybe kick Kaelee’s ass. Either way, she tensed in anticipation.
“Finding out that you fucked our editor, on the other hand, I’m feeling a bit judgmental about,” Toni said, sounding far surlier than Kaelee liked.
She flinched. “Do I get to plead the Fifth or something?”
“No.” Toni sighed. “What in the hell were you thinking, Kae? You can’t… you shouldn’t… Seriously. That’s not cool. What were you thinking?”
“That she’s gorgeous,” Kaelee said sheepishly, ducking her head at the confession. When Toni said nothing else, Kaelee looked at her. “I swear to God, Toni, that I had no idea she was my editor.”
“Myeditor, too.”
“Right. Yours or my editor. She was in town and there’s an app—”
“You slept with Greta when she was here? When?” Toni gave her a strange look. “September? Don’t say September.”
“September.”
