Page 129 of Floodgates

He shrugged. “Cord did. He got serious. He became how he was with just me, with everyone. He went from being a manwhore to a stand-up guy.”

“Explain.”

“Well, like, I always knew he was dependable and loyal and all that, but no one else ever saw it—least of all you. He fucked around, was a big flake, and nobody trusted him.”

I nodded.

“But then he turned it around. It was time to grow up, so he did.”

Cord’s transformation had been lost on me. I had completely missed it.

“And when I saw him making an effort to be a better guy, him wanting you became an okay thing.”

“You could trust him with your brother.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” I sighed. “I was just wondering, is all.”

“You thought I wasn’t protective.”

“I just wondered.”

“Well, I am,” he apprised. “And you know better.”

He was right, I really did.

SIX MONTHS later, we were still getting along, my stomach still flipped over when I saw him at the end of the day, and he still held my hand when we walked anywhere together. I was crossing the street with Cord on a Saturday afternoon before we met Dimah for dinner out at a new place he wanted to try when he explained that my brother was coming along as well. Alex missed him, and I could understand that.

“I stole his best friend,” I said, snickering.

Cord glared at me.

“What? It’s true.”

“Be nice.”

“I invited Matt and Eric too,” I informed my husband. He stopped moving suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, looking absolutely sick. It was like he couldn’t think of anything worse than spending time with my friends.

“Cord?” I was defensive.

It seemed like he was on the verge of puking.

Instantly I was upset. “Since when don’t you like Matt and Eric?” I asked him pointedly, concerned that I had missed his apparent dislike of two of the most important people in my life. How did my husband not like my best friend?

I had thought we were all getting along amazingly well. Even better, we didn’t have to go out clubbing anymore. Everyone, including Ira and Courtney as well as her friends, liked coming over to our place for dinner and game night. A lot of times the games were forgotten, and we all ended up just lounging around our house, talking, drinking, and cementing what I felt certain would be lifelong friendships. It was different with Cord. We didn’t have my friends and his friends. We had our friends, and that was even better. Plus, I got to add my brother and my business partner permanently to the mix.

The most interesting thing about having Dimah in my friend circle was how well the DEA agent and the importer/exporter got along. The first time Alex told me that he and Dimah were hitting the bars together, alone, I nearly passed out.

“Why’re you surprised?” Cord asked me. “I can’t be his wingman anymore, so he needs a new one. Hot Russian guy with the killer accent is an excellent choice as a substitute.”

I had stared at him like he had gone right out of his mind.

“What?”

“You think Dimah is hot?”

He squinted at me. “It’s not a question of do I or don’t I. Empirically speaking, he’s gorgeous.”