Page 26

“Thank you, Sam. I appreciate that. And your honesty. Call me if things change.”

I give Chloe a sad smile before walking toward the door. The truth is, there’s only one woman on the face of the earth who has the intelligence and the unwavering stubbornness to pull off a fake marriage with me. Only one who could stand toe-to-toe with me without blinking.

And right now, she can’t stand the sight of me.

Chapter Twelve

Lexi

Bzzz.

Reaching for my phone, I smile at the text.

Claire: Good morning, my rockstar bitches. Hit me with all your good affirmations for the day. I’ll start. Shit is hard. Do it anyway.

I giggle and text back.

Me: If I want something I’ve never had, I must do something I’ve never done.

Claire: Oh, I like that one.

Georgia: Me too, Lexi. Mine is My confidence grows every day.

Lilly: I am meant to do big things.

Emilia: I invest in myself because I am worth it.

Summer: I do not need to change before I can love myself.

Claire: Good one, Summer.

Everly: I am strong and extraordinary.

Claire: Love you, girls. Oh, and I’m headed your way, Lexi, Lilly, and Georgia. Hope you are available tonight or tomorrow to meet up.

Georgia: Oh my goodness, again? Yay!

Me: Can’t wait.

Lilly: Can we go out? I want to go dancing.

Georgia: Oh, yes. Please?

Emilia: Man, don’t rub it in you guys are going without me.

Lilly: You’re welcome to stay with me anytime you want to make a weekend girls trip

Emilia: Just give a girl a little more notice next time. But yes, we’re overdue for all of us to be in one room.

Claire: You’re right. We’ll start looking at dates. Maybe we can all meet here at the ranch like before. There’s always plenty of room. I’ll message you when I get to town, Lexi.

Me: Great. Safe travels.

Something tells me there’s a reason for this impromptu visit. As much as I love seeing these girls, I’m not sure I’m up for club hopping tonight. But Lilly never asks for much. So if push comes to shove, that’s what I’ll do. Besides, a night with these three is the best medicine there is, even in a loud, overcrowded nightclub.

It’s Friday night, and I’m standing behind the ropes of a long entry line to enter The Zone. It’s a dance haven for those in their twenties. Or older if they’re looking to score. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m entirely too old to be coming to this dance club.”

“You’ve got that right,” Claire adds.