“Positive. Has she been telling you the same thing?”
“Yes.”
He spreads his arms wide. “What can I say? I knew she was a smart biscuit. And since your two favorite people have declared it, then it shall be. You’ll drop all clients but me, and we’ll ride off together into the sunset like in one of those western movies.” He grins when I shoot him a glare. “Or maybe you’ll ride off with Melissa and Kelli.”
I nod. “That’s better.”
“It’s settled, then?”
He looks so hopeful, another lump forms in my throat. What did I do to deserve a friend like him?
“I’ll think about it. But I’m not taking more money from you, and that’s final.”
“Good enough,” he pauses, “for now.”
thirty-five
. . .
“Youhaveto go to Diego’s resort.” Leslie grins at me from across the booth. “Maybe Bobby will take you someday.”
I shake my head but smile back as I cut a piece off my waffle with my fork. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Wendy takes a long drag of her shake and doesn’t fully swallow it before saying, “I heard Diego’s already planning your wedding.” She wipes ice cream off her chin with her sweatshirt sleeve.
It’s Saturday morning, and once again, we’re at Pat’s Diner, because apparently Wendy craves it every day. I’m not sure what she’ll do once she and Randall move up to Evanston in a few weeks. And even though it’s nine in the morning, she’s drinking a shake with a questionable combination of ice cream flavors.
“That man … actually,” I tilt my head, “since you know about that and I’m assuming it’s via your husband, I should saythose menare bigger gossipers than any women I know.”
“Not Ash.” Leslie smiles smugly. “He knows how to keep a secret.”
“Like about how often you two did—or didnot—leave your room at the resort last week?” Now Wendy’s the one looking smug.
Leslie’s eyes widen.“He did not!”She huffs. “He’s in for it when I get home tonight.”
I snort. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s gonna be real scared.”
“Plus, I was kidding.” Wendy wiggles her shoulders. “You’re the one who just let that cat out of the bag, you little minx.”
Leslie groans before allowing a smile to take over her face. “It was pretty great, though.”
“I bet it was.” Wendy sighs and stares dreamily off into the distance. “If he’s anything like?—”
I hold up both hands to cut her off. “Stop! I don’t need the details about what the Hamilton boys get up to with their wives behind closed doors.”
Wendy giggles. “Who says we close our door?”
I laugh loudly enough to draw stares while Leslie says, “Pretty soon you’re going to need to both close and lock your door. Don’t want to accidentally scar Sonya for life.”
“Or your mother-in-law. You sure you want to move?” I tease.
“I’m actually looking forward to it, if you can believe that.” Wendy slurps up the last of her shake and sets her empty glass down. “If you’d told me one year ago that right now I’d be married to Randall, pregnant, and about to move into a wing of my mother-in-law’s gigantic house that’s bigger than my childhood home—which was not tiny, mind you—I’d have told you to just say no to drugs.”
Leslie shoots her a wry grin. “You probably also wouldn’t believe you’d be sitting in a diner wearing a stained sweatsuit while drinking a nasty-looking shake.”
Wendy glares at her but knows she’s right. Our friend is nothing if not fashionable at almost all times. Pregnancy is affecting her in unexpected ways.
“All while catching up with the two best friends a girl could ever ask for.” I hold my hands up for them to both give me a high five. Leslie immediately slaps my hand. Wendy wipes some mustard off her hand before slapping the other one. I’m not even sure where the mustard came from, as she hasn’t ordered any fries yet. I’m sure that’ll happen before we leave, though, despite it still being breakfast hours.
