Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 126840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
That meant a lot, and I hoped the look on my face shared that it did.
Marcy’s answering smile, which was full of sympathy, said I succeeded.
“Never go through a breakup alone is my motto,” Kyra put in, her gaze kind and worried and resting on me.
“You’re not a cynical loner like Hellen,” Bree stated.
Everyone’s eyes cut to her.
“There’s a girlfriend line,” Marcy snapped. “And, sister, you just jumped over it like you’re Carl fucking Lewis.”
Bree stood, picking up the Dior saddle bag she paid five thousand dollars for, when she just had to wait a season and she could buy it for twelve hundred dollars less.
She tossed it over her shoulder, tossed her strawberry blonde hair, then declared. “I’m in a bad mood and being bitchy. I need to go home to Ben and Jerry’s.” She settled her gaze on me. “I’ll think about what you said. But really, Christos is very sweet. I mean a lot to him. You can’t imagine how embarrassed he was to ask for my help. He’s Greek. They’re macho. I could see how upset it made him. But it’s a temporary situation. He’s cash poor. He promised me, it’ll turn around. Still, it didn’t feel good to watch a guy I’m falling in love with grovel like that, then you guys piling on didn’t help.”
We’d hardly “piled on.” Not until she got bitchy.
I didn’t get a chance to refute it, she kept talking.
“It’d also be good you think on what I said, not the bitchy way I said it. I got mad because you all don’t really know Christos, but it also doesn’t feel good you kinda think I’m an idiot.”
“We don’t think you’re an idiot,” Kyra cut in.
“It feels that way.”
Well…
Shit.
“That wasn’t what was intended,” I said.
“And I didn’t intend to be bitchy, but I was, and I’m sorry. Now I need some Phish Food.”
Pure Bree, when she was done, she was done.
She did an air kiss and took off.
The bell over the door rang. When we first started coming there, Fortnum’s was so popular, it rang all the time and drove me batty.
I didn’t even hear it anymore.
She waved to us through the window.
We waved back.
When we lost sight of her, I asked, “Either of you know how much he’s into her for?”
She’d shared she gave him another loan, she just hadn’t shared how much.
“First time, she gave him five hundred,” Kyra gave it up immediately. “This time, it was seventeen.”
Whoa.
“Seventeen hundred dollars?” Marcy asked, her neat, black, arched brows nearly hitting her tall, soft Afro.
Kyra nodded glumly.
A short, sharp whistle rent the air.
We turned toward the door.
Tall, Dark, Rough and Ready was there, carrying a to-go coffee in his long-fingered hand.
The minute he caught my eye, he winked at me, his white teeth showing in a brash, sexy-as-hell Hollywood smile.
Then he slid his mirrored aviators on his nose, the bell over the door chimed, and he strolled out.
“I don’t know whether to think that was completely gross, or a total turn on,” Kyra said.
I knew.
It was door number two, thank you.
“A man whistles at me like a dog, he immediately occupies another universe, one that I’m not in,” Marcy put her vote in.
The whistle was cocky AF.
But it was also hot AF.
And he was gone, so it wasn’t like I was ever going to see him again. Thus, I could think that.
If he hadn’t taken off, and instead he approached and presented a pickup line, that would be gross.
The way it went down, fortunately, I had someone else to think about, since I’d be using my vibrator a lot more considering Bryan was out of the picture.
I wondered if Tall, Dark, Rough and Ready knew how to pull hair.
“We probably didn’t handle it all that well with Bree, but still, I’m not certain about Christos,” Marcy declared.
“Me either,” I agreed. “Three months and twenty-two hundred dollars do not add up.”
“How do you get cash poor?” Kyra asked. “If you need cash, don’t spend the cash you have.”
“Yup.” Marcy ended that with a pop.
We could just say, Kyra and Marcy shopped on the resale sites, like me. They also had moving and shaking to do, like me.
We’d all met at college. Bree and I were roommates our freshman year. We’d hooked up with Marcy, who was a year ahead of us, then Kyra, who was a year behind. Starting my sophomore year, we’d all lived together when we could, and now Kyra and Marcy were roommates again.
This meant I’d spent four years living with Bree, studying with Bree, partying with Bree, taking road trips with Bree, grocery shopping and cooking with Bree.
And she was still a huge part of my life because I loved Bree.
That said, if someone put a gun to my head, I’d have to admit I’d migrated my bestest best friend to Marcy because we were the same person, except she was Black and I was white.