“You love your job? Really? The same job where some old man is threatening to fire you if you don’t get a grown-ass man to stop fighting for causes he believes in?” She purses her lips and the red painted on them no longer looks like the perfect shade she found at a MAC counter. It looks like the blood of the people who tried to tell her half-truths.

Damn you, Vonnie Lamar, and your soul penetrating side-eye!

“Okay, well obviously that’s not great. And some parts of my job suck.” Knowing that Mr. Mahler doesn’t really support Quinton is hard, but this is still a company and if it’s hurting his bottom line, that’s understandable. Money is still king. “But I’m working for the Mustangs! My dad can’t be here for this, but he would’ve loved this and that makes me happy. Even if Quinton drove me crazy sometimes, planning his launch party was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. And now I get to do another event for Mr. Mahler. I love all of that.”

“Okay, so what I’m hearing is that you’re trying to connect with your dad through work while not dealing with the emotional ramifications of losing him and that you like event planning.” She lets go of my arm and leans back against the couch. “I fail to see where I’m wrong.”

“You know, I’m not sure I like you anymore.” I almost roll my eyes at her, but like a small child, I wither under her warning glare.

“Mhmm.” She lifts her drink to her lips, looking at me with bloodshot eyes over the rim of her glass. “Just like you don’t like Quinton? It’s hard to like the person shoving a mirror in your face.”

I want to respond with something good. A snappy comeback that will make Vonnie question if she was right or missed the mark completely.

But instead, her lawyerly instincts have left me on the witness stand broken and battered.

See. This is why I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Help one person and they try and help you back.

Rude.

Twenty-five

After Vonnie went into the bathroom and fixed her face—her words, not mine—she came back out and we pledged not to discuss any more heavy shit for the rest of the day. Preferably, the rest of our lives.

What I didn’t know was that soon, Brynn was going to bless my soul with the most wondrous, enchanting woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Ever.

In life.

“Greer, do you want a cocktail?” I offer, even though Brynn is here and obviously makes way better drinks than I do. But it’s the thought, you know?