“I can do lunch,” I say anyway.
She smiles. “Great. Now catch me up on all the things. How are you?” she asks, moving on like what she just asked me to agree to was as simple as tying shoelaces.
Of course she can pivot. She’s always been better at pretending than I am. She’s done it her whole damn life.
Me? What you see is what you get.
I push it down. I’d rather her be in my life than not be. Sex or not.
Even if the terms suck.
I shake my head. “Later. Tell me more about you. What’s next, and what are you going to do about your family?”
Chapter Three
JORDAN
Three Months Later
August
I takea deep breath and exhale, relief flooding through me as I gather my things.
I did it. I fucking did it.
Sabrina rushes to my side, doing nothing to hide the excitement on her face. The scent of espresso and her perfume hits me all at once as she squeezes my arm on our way out of the conference room.
The second we’re in the clear, she practically squeals. “Oh my God, girl! You nailed that presentation. This Hamptons remodel is yours.”
I nod, smiling, trying not to get ahead of myself. “I know. I know. Fingers crossed.”
She stops me, facing me head-on. “No crossed fingers. This account is yours. Let’s go celebrate.”
I stand a little taller, shoulders finally loosening. “No celebrating until I know that it’s a done deal.”
Sabrina groans, her gold hoop earrings reflecting in thelight. “Come on! Let’s go to lunch and pop some champagne,” she whines. “I’ll buy.”
Her black curls are perfectly cropped on top of her head, and I still don’t know how she does it, how she always looks so put together and effortless at the same time. Like she just rolled out of bed andpoof—flawless.
“Can’t. I already have lunch plans.”
“With who?”
“Matt.” I turn the corner, heading toward my office.
“Oh my God,” she draws out the word, emphasizing the “d.” “Please tell me you’re celebrating by getting naked with him then.” She bumps my shoulder, grinning.
I laugh softly. “I already told you—we’re just friends.”
“Mhm. Right. Girl, I’ve known you a long time. And when you sayjust friends, I know what that means. You’ve always been”—she lifts her hands for air quotes—“just friends.”
“I know. But the past is the past. It’s different this time. We really arejust friends.”
“Right. And I’m fucking Cleopatra.”
She’s been giving me shit about Matt since day one, and honestly, I don’t blame her. I give myself shit for it.
I stop short when I spot Matt standing in my office, making himself way too comfortable, picking up a picture of me and my pappoús.
