And how hard I’d worked to never be seen asless thanagain.
Mark clapped his hands together.
“Alright,” he said. “Lawyer or spy, she’s invited to the Cape.”
Tony grinned. “Just don’t let her sue me if you break her heart.”
I snorted. “Not happening.”
But something cold slid into my gut.
Because they weren’t wrong.
I didn’t know her address.
Didn’t know her friends.
Didn’t know where she went after work and before we met up.
Hell — I didn’t even know her last name until last week.
And underneath all that…
Something older stirred.
That old, ugly insecurity I kept buried.
The peeling cabinets.
Chef Boyardee dinners.
The nights the heat barely worked.
Grease under my nails.
The kid fixing cars for grocery money.
Not this version.
Not the tan and the watch and the “corporate hot” guy Tony liked to roast me about.
If she ever saw the before…
Would she still look at me the same?
Or would the spell break?
Mark clapped once.
“ANYWAY,” he said loudly, changing gears. “Speaking of boats. Cape run this weekend?”
I looked away not wanting to tell them I had plans Sunday playing a gig, so I went along all the while doing mental math on how I was going to pull both off.
Tony perked up instantly. “Yeah. Everyone’s in. Even Christy and Emma are coming.”
Mark and Chris straightened like dogs hearing a whistle.
“Oh hell yeah?—”
