Page 119 of The Fast Lane
“Fine, we won’t tell them.” Alec pushed off the wall and walked to stand next to me. “Here’s what I think we should do?—”
“Sit down.” Theo stood. “Ali’s got it under control.”
Alec smirked. “Is that so?”
Theo stepped closer and the two of them glared at each other. If it was Regency England, Alec would have slapped Theo across the face with a glove and challenged him to a duel. Theo would be the dashing pirate in disguise who beat the bad guy and got the girl.
I tucked that little fantasy away to think about later.
Seeing the two side by side, the differences between them were stark. Alec with his dark hair slicked back and shrewd dark eyes versus Theo’s blond curls and thoughtful blue eyes. Alec was a bit shorter, leaner, clean-shaven and dressed in designer jeans and a black t-shirt that probably cost three hundred dollars. On the other hand, Theo was taller with wider shoulders, and a permanent scruff. His shorts and t-shirt were probably ten years old.
Alec would be the kind of dad who left early every day to work out and stayed late at the office every night. The weekends would be for schmoozing on the golf course. His kids would never see him. Theo would hurry home after work. He’d take the kids swimming and on walks and to the playground. Surely, he’d invent twelve different pirate games to play with them.
I really had chosen Alec because he was so different from the man I wanted. He had been a safe choice. What an idiot I was. I almost felt bad for wasting Alec’s time. Almost.
“Yeah, that is so. Ali’s got it covered. She’s smart and clever and thinks outside the box and she’ll get the job done, no matter what. In fact, she makes a damn good leader.” Theo gazed at me, his eyes steady and true. “I’d follow her anywhere.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, but inside the dragons were in a frenzy of swoops in pure adoration.
“No problem.” Theo took a step toward Alec. “What she’s not is a finance bro with more money than sense.”
“Whatever. I think I know Ali pretty well and I can?—”
Theo cut in. “I know you’re the idiot who broke up with her on a text message and then blocked her number like a coward.”
“That’s how he broke it off with you?” Frankie inspected Alec from head to toe like he was a bug about to be squashed under his foot. He sneered. “We’re going to talk about this later.”
That wiped the smarmy, smirky expression off Alec’s face.
“What can we do to help?” Lydia asked.
Everyone’s eyes were on me (minus Alec, who had found something very interesting on the carpet), expectant, trusting, and a moment of real panic wedged its way into my chest. It must have shone on my face because Theo slid his hand into mine.
“You got this,” he murmured.
He was right; I did have this. I straightened my shoulders and started talking.
FIFTY
Note to self:
Don’t let Melanie plan my bachelorette party.
“Isn’t this fun?” Melanie said as she carefully painted a bumble bee on a ceramic cup.
“Super-fun.” Lydia haphazardly added black dots to the dalmatian she’d created on her teacup. Or maybe it was a spotted skunk?
Ruth held up her bowl. “Sexy, right?”
“Totally.” I glared at the vase I’d attempted to paint stripes on, but it looked like the work of a four-year-old with a short attention span.
A few months ago, us bridesmaids had asked Melanie what she’d liked to do for her bachelorette party. We had expected the usual—wear a bride-to-be sash, drink too much, end up at a show à la the Thunder from Down Under, and come back to the hotel a giggling mess. But no, Melanie had replied she wanted to do something “fun and creative.”
That’s how we ended up at one of these paint-it-yourself places.
Not surprisingly, the elementary art teacher in Melanie was in Heaven. The rest of us, not so much. Although it was loads more fun than the rehearsal and dinner we’d had before this, and that was saying something.
“Hey, Ali,” Lydia said, still placing black dots on her teacup. “Your mom looks so familiar. I’ve been trying to figure out where I know her from.”