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‘You never dated her, did you?’ Tatianna raises her manicured brows at me.
‘No.’ Not officially. ‘We were close growing up, but her family moved across the state just before we started high school. Does it bother you that she’s staying here?’
She shrugs. ‘No, I guess not.’
‘Come here.’ I open my arms and Tatianna drops the garment she’s holding to the carpet and steps into my arms. ‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ I whisper, placing my lips against her neck.
She sighs heavily and rests against me. ‘It’s okay. I know you have a lot on your mind with the merger and everything.’
The merger? That was three months ago. I don’t correct her. ‘It looks like you found some good things on today’s outing, huh?’ There are shopping bags and tissue paper littering the closet floor.
She nods. ‘Bergman’s was having a sample sale and then my favorite jewelry designer previewed their fall collection at the Grove today, so I swung down there.’ I listen as she tells me about her day, my thoughts faraway. ‘I’m just going to finish putting all this away, okay?’
I nod. She loves organizing her closet, and I know she can spend hours in there. I had it designed just how she wanted—with a brightly lit crystal chandelier hanging overhead, a floor-to-ceiling mirror on one wall and rows and rows of colorful high heeled shoes resting on the shelving at the end of the room.
I’m still too keyed-up to relax, so I head into the sitting room linked to the master suite and pull out my cell phone. I try to figure out which of my brothers to call while Tatianna hums quietly in the other room.
While I’m sure Pace remembers Mia, he’s five years younger, and his memories of her will be spotty at best. Colton, then.
‘You’ll never guess who showed up here today,’ I say in place of a greeting.
‘A strippergram?’ he asks.
‘No.’ I chuckle. ‘Mia Monroe.’
It takes him only a second. ‘No shit?’
‘Yeah.’
We each wait silently on the phone. He knew how close we were growing up. Which means he knows how much she meant to me.
‘Explain,’ he says, finally. ‘What’s she been up to all this time? How does she look? Why is she there?’ He shoots the questions off one after the other.
‘She looks incredible.’ I don’t know why those are the first words out of my mouth. Probably because the image of her standing on my front porch is burned into my brain. Gone is the slender, boyish frame of youth, and in its place are generous curves and the soft rounded flesh of womanhood. ‘She’s an accountant now.’ I don’t mention that she’d been fired or the secret marriage promise we made when we were ten that she’s come to collect on—because that’s crazy. It’s completely fucking nuts. And it makes my heart thump like it’s got some type of damn tick. Maybe I should schedule that stupid physical after all.
‘You still have a thing for her?’ he surprises me by asking next.
‘Of course not.’ Fuck. ‘I’m with Tatianna.’
He sighs, and I hear him tell Sophie that he’ll be there in a few minutes. ‘Yes, but we both know that Tatianna is just a convenience. You’ve been in love with Mia since you were five years old for fuck’s sake.’
‘I’m not in love with Mia,’ I drop my voice. Tatianna does not need to hear this. Besides, I don’t have time for love right now. It’s messy and unpredictable. I don’t do messy, or unpredictable. Never have. Wasn’t about to start now. No fucking thank you.
‘Well, now that she’s back, the least you can do is man up and fuck her finally.’ He laughs.
‘Uh, already taken care of.’
‘Fuck, man. She’s only been there a couple of hours, and you’ve already banged her?’
‘No, dumbshit. When we were fifteen. We were each other’s first.’ I have no idea why I’m telling him this information. I guess Mia’s shocking entrance back into my life has brought out my sharing side.
‘No shit?’ he says. ‘I always thought Erika Garcia sophomore year was your first.’
‘No. It was Mia,’ I say. ‘On Dad’s boat.’
‘Interesting. I always took girls there too.’
‘I know you did, you little horn dog. But I thought of it first.’
‘Damn, Mia Monroe,’ he says again.
‘So what should I do?’ I ask.
‘Listen, all I’m saying is that I know you were crazy about her. I’m glad she’s back in your life. Shit, I remember the year she moved. It was like someone took the spark out of you. Like they pulled the beating heart right out of your chest. You moped around for six months. Maybe this is a good thing. You can have some fun for once.’
‘Fun? You’re one to talk.’ Actually, Sophie being in his life has been a game-changer. He’s like a different man now. Much more light-hearted and easier going than before.
‘I’m doing just fine, asshole. Worry about yourself,’ he barks.
Maybe he’s right. There’s no reason that he and Pace need to have all the fun. Might be nice to join in for once. And if anyone can bring that side out of me again, it’ll be Mia.
Hell, this should be interesting at the very least.
‘Okay thanks, man. I’ve gotta run.’ I hang up wondering what the hell is going to happen next.
Mia Fucking Monroe.
Chapter Four (#u170d506a-0164-55ab-b6c7-e2ea0017f4ff)
Mia
My eyes float over the room, taking it in. It’s much larger than a hotel room—the ones I’m used to anyway. This guestroom is almost the size of my old apartment. Three large windows stretch up towards the vaulted ceilings. There’s a walk in closet, a small oak desk and chair by one of the windows, and a seating area at the foot of the bed, with a loveseat covered in a purple floral pattern, and matching stuffed chair. I see why he calls it the purple room. It’s subtle, but most of the furnishings have hints of purple. I wonder if he remembers that it’s my favorite color. The thought makes me smile. But no, it would be silly for him to remember something so ridiculous, from so long ago.
The bed must be a king. I’ve never slept in anything so big. I wonder if I actually could, or if I’ll spend the night getting lost in the expanse of it. At least it looks soft. So soft. The lavender duvet is as fluffy as a cloud, tempting me to run and jump into it. Instead, I head across the room and peek into the attached bath.
It’s larger than any bathroom should be. There’s a double sink, a Jacuzzi tub, and a separate large shower with more showerheads than I’d know what to do with. It’s all so much that I feel my mouth actually fall open. If this is just a guest bedroom, what must the master bedroom be like?
Collins’ family had always been well-off when we were growing up, but this is more than well-off, this is wealthy. I wonder if I had looked harder online, would I have found him on one of those richest men alive lists? It’s intimidating. I feel like I’ve stumbled across a new culture and don’t know the customs or the language. I tip toe across the room, careful not to disturb anything.
I had no idea he would be this affluent. Of course Collins was a born entrepreneur. When we were six and most kids were opening lemonade stands, he figured out that the markup value on ice cream treats, combined with his cute-kid factor would put him ahead of the game and setup a weekend neighborhood ice cream stand.
The local ice cream man didn’t have a chance, and Collins made bank. Not that he needed it. No, I’m not surprised he is doing so well. I’m proud. He always had this in him. I smile at the thought.
I take another look around the room, and my eyes land on my huge suitcase. The one I packed with as many of my everyday things as I could, and a few very important items I didn’t want to cram in my parent’s small storage space.
Collins invited me to stay for a few days, so I might as well unpack. I hoist my suitcase up on the bed, unzip the front pouch, and pull out my old childhood scrapbook, flipping it open to the first page where I’d long ago glued the cover of a bridal magazine. The one Collins had found that fateful day hidden under my mattress.
I run my fingers over the crinkled paper, and smile as I remember the promise we’d made. It all started because of this very magazine. I’d found it at my babysitter’s house, and loved it because it had a purple wedding dress on the cover. I never understood why brides always wore white and thought this elegant lavender gown was the very dress I would wear when I got married. I liked it so much that my babysitter let me take the magazine home. I’d been hiding it under my mattress, and Collins found it one day when we were playing in my room.
‘Who’s getting married?’ he’d asked, wide eyed.
I snatched it away from him, trying to hide it a little too late. We might have been best friends, but he was still going through his all girls have cooties phase. Something I was normally immune from, but still, there were certain things I kept to myself. Or tried to. ‘I am,’ I proclaimed in the strongest voice I could. Still, I felt myself blush.
Collins wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brow in that way that made a small crinkle over one eyebrow. ‘No way.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Not today. But one day.’
‘I’ll never get married. That’s gross.’ His eyes widened.
‘Yes you will. Everyone does.’
‘Okay, fine. But if I have to marry someone, I’m gonna marry you.’ He poked me in the arm with his finger hard enough that it hurt, just a little.
It wasn’t a romantic candle lit dinner with champagne and get down on one knee type of proposal, but at the age of ten, it was all I needed. And I wouldn’t trade that memory for anything.
In my bedroom that day, we deliberated and it evolved into a promise that if neither of us had married by the time we were thirty, we’d married each other.
Pinky swear.
I’d turned thirty a few months ago, and the promise had been lurking in the back of my mind ever since. But did that mean I actually needed to spend the last few dollars I had running across country to see Collins? It seemed like a good idea at the time, but the more I analyze it now, the sillier the whole thing seems.
I pull out my phone and dial my friend Leila’s number.
‘Are you really there? I mean actually in LA,’ she says by way of greeting.
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘I can’t believe you went, girl. You are crazy,’ she shrieks in her usual over excited tone.
‘You’re the one who said I should go,’ I say.
‘So? We were drinking. Besides, I was 100% kidding and you know that.’ I think back to when we met for drinks just after I was fired. We were talking over my options, or lack of options. I was about to get evicted for non-payment of rent. She offered me her sofa in the tiny one bedroom she shared with her husband and newborn. No thank you. Then suggested my parents’ place, which was even smaller than hers. The next thing out of her mouth was a joke, ‘Maybe you should move to LA and marry that Collins guy.’
She laughed. But I didn’t. The mention of my childhood love made my cheeks warm and my belly churn. It seemed like an option, one as good as any other. Maybe even better. Just the thought of seeing Collins again had been so enticing.
But now that I was really here, I was questioning myself. ‘I know,’ I say. ‘I shouldn’t have come. He’s got a live-in girlfriend, and she’s super beautiful.’
‘Mia, I’m sorry. But what did you expect?’
My inner romantic knows exactly what I expected. He was going to open the door, recognize me at once, and we would be married the next day. ‘I know. It was childish of me to come.’
‘But you’re in his house? Does that mean he invited you to stay?’
‘For a few days.’
‘And he has a guest bedroom, or a couch or whatever?’
I laugh. ‘It’s more like a guest suite. He’s doing really well. His house is amazing, Leila. He’s got so many guest rooms they name them. I’m in the Purple Room.’
‘Well, sounds like you might be okay there for a few days then. But remember—my couch is always open if you need a place to crash. And if things get weird there, I will find a way to loan you the money for a ticket home.’
I know she means it. Leila’s a great friend, but there’s no way I’ll let them cut into their small savings to fly me home. Not with their newborn and all. ‘No you won’t. I’ll be fine,’ I say.
‘The offer is there.’
‘Thank you.’
We get off the phone, and I chew on my lip as I mull over my situation. When I told Collins what I was doing here, he seemed kind of stunned. Not that we ever really talked about it since we were interrupted by Tatianna’s arrival.
There’s a knock at the door. ‘Mia, are you hungry?’ Collins says through the door.
I pull it open. He and Tatianna are there.
‘Sure.’ And I absolutely am. The four-hour time difference means my stomach wants dinner yesterday.
‘Dinner’s ready. I asked the cook to set an extra plate for you.’ He waves for me to follow them and I do. Collins and Tatianna walk next to each other, but manage to avoid physical contact and don’t say a word as we make our way down to the dining room. I wonder if this is how they normally are together, or if I’ve caused this icy tension. The Collins I knew loved to talk. Some days we’d spend the entire day taking turns telling stories. Sure there were times we’d been quiet, but usually it was because we were reading, or watching something, or even just tired.
The silence between him and Tatianna seems different somehow. Not awkward exactly, but not comfortable either. It’s like they don’t have anything to say to each other, so they’ve just stopped talking. But surely there’s always something to talk about. In all the years Collins and I were friends, I don’t ever remember either one of us ever lacking in interesting things to say.
Collins stops at a doorway and motions for me to enter. Having adjusted my expectations to assume everything is huge in this house, I am not disappointed by the size of the dining room. I follow Tatianna down to the far end of what might more aptly be called a dining hall.
‘Take a seat.’ Collins points at one of the places made up at the end of a table long enough to seat twenty. I sit down and try not to gawk too much as I take in the two amazing crystal chandeliers that hang from above, elegantly illuminating the room. Collins takes the seat next to me, at the head of the table, and Tatianna seats herself on the other side of him and across from me. She barely takes her eyes off her phone as she pours herself some water.
I turn to Collins, wondering if this is the way she usually is when they eat dinner, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I can’t help thinking that if I were dating someone as amazing as Collins, I wouldn’t be staring at my phone when he was around, I’d be gazing into his eyes.
The food is already served and on the table. Collins picks up a bottle of wine and fills my glass before filling his own. He doesn’t offer any to Tatianna. In fact, she doesn’t even have a wine glass.
Dinner is a baked chicken breast with grilled vegetables. Collins looks at it for a moment as if he’s psyching himself up for it, and then picks up his silverware and starts cutting the chicken into pieces.
‘When did you start liking poultry?’ I ask as I cut into my own. I’ll eat almost anything, but Collins had always been a bit of a picky eater, and disliked pretty much all fowl. He’s more a red meat kind of guy. As I take my first bite, I notice Tatianna looking at him coolly, but not saying anything. Crap. Maybe I offended her. ‘Not that I don’t love it, I just meant…I guess we change with age, right?’
Collins finishes chewing, and chases his bite down with wine, then says, ‘Tatianna doesn’t eat red meat, so we don’t really keep it in the house.’ He looks as if he’s talking sadly about a battle he’s lost.
I guess it makes sense if they live together, they must eat a lot of their meals together. But as I glance at her plate I notice she’s not even eating the same thing. Her plate is smaller, and piled with baby spinach and a small cherry tomato that’s been quartered and spread around the edge to give it color. I have to hide my shock. If she’s not even eating it, why should she care? It angers me that she would force her food preferences on him. Especially if they don’t even eat the same thing. Why does she feel the need to change him? He was perfect to start with.
Collins eyes her plate, then looks up at her meaningfully, but doesn’t say anything.
I wonder if he’s realizing how stupid it is, too. I stab a piece of chicken a bit harder than I need to with my fork, and take a bite. Chewing it, I mentally talk myself out of glaring at her throughout dinner. This is her house too after all.
I take a deep breath and ask Collins more about his business as we eat. It’s a bit weird. I was always the numbers girl, and yet, here he is, the owner of an investment firm. Being a bit of a numbers geek, I prod him all evening with questions about the inner workings of it all.
‘Collins,’ Tatianna jumps in while he takes a bite. ‘As fascinating as this is, I’m about finished, and I have to call my agent. You don’t mind if I leave you two, do you?’ At this point, I realize she’s tuned out virtually the entire conversation. If her phone hadn’t been there to distract her, I wonder if she might rather count the individual pieces of spinach in her salad than talk about his work.
‘No, go ahead,’ he says. He kisses her cheek as she kisses the air next to his. I look at his hard square jaw, and smooth tan skin. How could she not want to brush her lips against that jawline?
‘Nice meeting you, Mia,’ she says glancing at me briefly before turning back to her phone and wandering off. She probably figures this is the last time she’s going to see me, and hell, maybe it is. Collins has a good life, a serious girlfriend, I can’t just come barging in.
By dessert, I have a pretty good snapshot of how the money flows through an investment firm. Collins geeks out almost as much as me, and we lean over our chocolate lava cake as we talk about the inner-workings of his company. His eyes are vibrant as he talks about his business, and I can tell he really does love his work. The life in his eyes is something I haven’t seen in a long time, and it fills me with warm energy.
