I shrug. “So you think I’m the same as I used to be.”
Will considers, scratching at his elbow. “To be honest, I’ve never knownwhatto think of you, Josephine. You’ve always been a riddle to me.”
His words land like warm rays on my skin, easing my senses from head to toe. Here I’d thought Will had found some sort of key to figuring me out. That years ago, he’d unlocked the answer and decided it wasn’t very interesting.
“I could never figure you out either,” I say.
Will sighs, backing toward his car. “It’s a shame neither of us tried very hard. Until now.”
CHAPTER NINE
“Start from the beginning,” Camila says.
I pull my mimosa closer, eyeing the fizzing bubbles as they tame. Beyond our little airport restaurant, Camila’s sisters and cousins are lined up outside the gate even though we still have forty-five minutes until boarding starts. Giovanna isn’t even here yet.
I look Cami directly in her large, warm brown eyes. “You remember when we were freshmen and I told you about my high school best friend, Zoe?”
Camila nods. “She excommunicated you after you made out with her twin brother on senior spring break.”
I wince.
“Wait. That’sWill? Will’sthe twin brother? Will Grant, our new consultant?”
My wince winces. “Yeah.”
She points at me, her sparkly pink fingernail flickering. “I knew something was going on between you two.”
“There’s nothing going on between us,” I assure her. “There neverwasanything going on between us. What happened that night when we were seventeen was just a random, drunken encounter that blew up in our faces—”
Cami holds up a hand, indicating I pause. “Backpedal. Walk me through it.”
I sigh, glancing at the ceiling. Telling my best friend of nine years about a seven-month friend I couldn’t stay on good terms with is cannonballing my anxiety.
“The issue started between Zoe and Will before they moved to Nashville,” I begin. “Zoe had this friend, Amber, whom she’d gotten close with in Austin. Apparently, Amber and Will were interested in each other and started dating. Zoe didn’t mind at first, even supported it, but eventually, it became obvious Amber had never cared about her friendship with Zoe.”
“Became obvious how?” Cami asks.
I tilt my head, remembering the story. “Zoe had never been included by other girls—they thought she was weird—and then Amber started being nice to her out of the blue. Since Amber was also spending more time with Will as a result of her friendship with Zoe, they got together. But then Amber told Zoe to stop being clingy? That they needed to redefine their friendship? Basically, Amber didn’t want to be around Zoe unless Will was also there.”
“Ouch,” Cami says.
I nod in agreement. “So, you can imagine the chip Zoe had on her shoulder when she moved to Nashville and tried to make new friends.”
“Did you know?” Cami asks. “Did Zoetellyou about that experience before you and Will…” She makes a kissy face, tilting her head back and forth with her eyes closed.
I wrinkle my nose. “I knew,” I admit, cheeks flushing. “Zoe told me what happened, and I understood her side of it, completely. Shefelt like she’d been used and then dropped.” I pause. Take a sip of my mimosa. “I felt so bad for her. I could see how hurt Zoe had been by it. Not just by Amber, but by Will, too, who was ignorant of the entire situation. I’d hardly spoken more than agreetingto Will Grant at that point, and frankly, I couldn’t understand whatany girlwould see in him other than his obvious good looks.”
“Such a shame girls never go for obvious good looks,” Cami intones.
“Anyway,” I go on, ignoring her. “There was this one night on the beach, the last night of senior spring break. We’d all been drinking heavily. There was music, a bonfire, drinking games. I got this call from my mom—about Oma.” I swallow thickly, and Cami reaches across the table for my hand.
“She passed away that night,” Cami guesses.
I nod, clearing my throat, training my brain away from the news my mom had given me on the phone. Oma had died alone in her home. It was an accident, a bad fall. No one was there to help her.
Camila smiles warmly. “I remember you telling me how close you were when you were growing up.”
It’s true; for years, I’d been closer with Oma than I’d been with my own mother. Oma was, for all intents and purposes, the fun relative and the love bomber. Oma is the reason I know anything about fashion. She explained the history of Ralph Lauren to me, showed me old photos of Coco Chanel and Jackie Kennedy. She used to say all the time:Men invest in real estate. Women invest in jewelry.She would tell me to look at the tennis wives, not the football wives, for fashion inspiration, and don’t trust any magazine butVogue.Such a character. So thoughtful, and simultaneously vain at her core, but I loved her desperately. My whole family did.
