End of the Innocence

Chapter 2

My car grumbled as it moved through downtown, and I reached out with a distracted hand, feeling around the inside of my purse until I found my phone. I dialed Olivia, a quick glance at the clock confirming that Becca’s ass would be drooling and snoring right about now.

“About damn time. You can’t leave us hanging like that!” Her indignant tone had me smiling, and the nerves between my shoulder blades relaxed slightly.

“Hanging? You knew?”

“Yes, we knew!” she snapped. “That delicious man of yours had a car—a limo—pick us both up yesterday afternoon and take us to the jewelry store.”

I twisted my mouth. “And you’re telling me Becca kept that quiet all night long?”

She giggled. “I fed her tequila. With a side of fajitas. And hid her phone. We thought you’d text or call us with the news, but we ended up drinking all night while waiting.” The irritation in her voice was probably more from the hangover than the delayed news, but I spoke quickly to cover my tracks.

“I’m sorry, O. Things got ... distracting when we made it back home.”

“But you said yes.”

“Yes, I said yes!” I suddenly realized that my best friends didn’t really know my connection to Brad, the fact that I loved him. So much had slid by under their radar. They didn’t know about Brad’s family, about the situations that had pushed us together faster than normal relationship protocols allowed. I suddenly picked up on the odd tone of Olivia’s voice—not exactly enthusiastic—caution lacing her words. “I love him,” I said quickly.

“It hasn’t been very long, Jules. And you just broke off your last engagement—”

“This is different. Brad isn’t Luke.”

“You got that right.” The words were spoken under her breath, and I didn’t know whether to take them as praise or criticism.

I drove in silence for a moment, not sure of what to say, the pressure building as my car neared the office. I haven’t prepared, I don’t know what to say to the office, I need to go.

“Well ...” Olivia drawled. “Becca is passed out on my couch. I’ve got a nine AM class, so I’ll leave her here. But we need to celebrate. Los Compadres at six?”

I bit my bottom lip. I love the girls and wanted to share the excitement of my engagement. But I would also need to find out how Brad’s meeting with his father went, how his wing of the office responded, share my own stories of whateverthehell was about to happen inside the firm’s prestigious walls. I turned on my blinker, pulled up, and got a ticket for the parking garage. “Another night, O. Give Becca a giant hug when she wakes up, and I’ll call you guys tomorrow.”

“I’d say you only get engaged once, but with your track record ...” I heard the screech of hangers as she finished the flat sentence, irritation coating the words.

“Love you, too, Olivia.”

“Yeah. And congrats.” She made the word sound as non-congratulatory as humanly possible.

“Thanks.” I made a face and ended the call. Stuffing the phone into my purse, I pulled into a spot. I took a moment—a head against the headrest, take a deep breath, put a fucking game face on moment—that did absolutely nothing to calm my nerves. Then I, with my big ass rock, opened the car door.