Immediately another woman appears next to her. “Morning.” The brunette smiles as she attempts to zip up her dress.
My eyes bug out as I turn my focus to my friend who grins proudly. “It was a good night,” Brent reflects as he leans against the wall.
“And a good morning,” Charlotte adds.
“Clearly eventful,” I deadpan. My eyes turn to Charlotte who rests her chin on her folded arms on the back of the sofa. Something dawns on me. “Where’s Violet?” She was staying with Charlotte, I assume.
“She stayed at my place. You know she doesn’t like to play.” She pouts.
I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. “You let her go back to your apartment when she’d been drinking?” The disapproval runs strong in my voice.
Brent slaps a hand on my shoulder. “Relax, we dropped her off in the taxi on the way here.”
“Where is she now?”
“Probably on her way back to Lake Spark. She wanted to leave early, something about needing to escape you and preparing begonias or something like that,” Charlotte explains.
“Who’s Violet?” the random third wheel dares to ask.
Brent chuckles, and Charlotte stares at me blankly, almost waiting. When I don’t say anything, she says, “The woman that this guy is in love with.”
I sigh, because I can’t deny it.
“He just needs time to ‘think.’” Charlotte uses air quotes.
The random woman angles her head to study me. “Aren’t you that hockey guy who owns a team now?”
“NDA,” Brent clucks his tongue and chides her a warning lightheartedly.
I point at her and look at Brent. “Who is this?”
“Jenna,” he answers.
“Gemma,” she corrects him.
“Gemma,” he repeats with a tight smile. “Sorry, Gemma, Declan here is a little out of sorts and has morphed into someone with an emotional backbone.”
Charlotte turns to Gemma who is sitting on her knees, invested in our conversation. “Declan used to be as adventurous as us, but then he hooked up with Violet, and since then has been a monogamous lovesick puppy—until he turned into an asshole to think over his feelings.”
Brent squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on him. He’s never been this obsessed with a woman before. I mean, hell, one time on a video call, he wouldn’t shut up about babysitting with Violet and some dog. He smiled the entire time. This isn’t the guy I’ve known all these years. If I ask about his sex life, he shuts me up, as if his time with Violet is so sacred.”
I give him the death stare. “Why did I bother coming by to see if you wanted to grab brunch?” I wonder.
“I did work up an appetite, but I can’t handle listening to your Violet woes for another meal. Not when it’s so obvious. You literally called me the other day because you were standing outside the window of Tiffany’s trying to imagine if buying a ring is something you could see in your future.”
“You what?!” Charlotte sits up in full intention.
My hands come up to defend myself. “It was a moment.”
“Yeah, and what about having the contractor fix a treehouse, even though you don’t have kids? Manifesting or what?” Brent adds.
“Aww, a treehouse for little Violets and Declans,” Charlotte coos to tease me.
“The treehouse was already on the property, so why take it down?” I shrug, but really, there was maybe something screaming inside of me that one day, just maybe…
“You’re putting yourself through these moments because somewhere inside you do want to imagine it.” Brent walks to his bar on the side and holds up a half-empty bottle of champagne. “Mimosas?” Everyone ignores him.
“What else has he done?” Charlotte asks Brent. These two as a team are a headache.
