Bad Friend Read online

  5

  “Happy Bad Housewives Day, bitches,” Lara said, lifting her glass of beer as they occupied their favorite booth at Splurge. Once a week, they met at someone’s home or a restaurant to catch up and talk about life.

  Nikki took a sip of her wine. “Amen. Cole has the kids today,” she said, referring to the two boys she had from a previous marriage. “I have to enjoy while I can. We’ll be trying for a baby soon.”

  Lara broke a piece of bread and took it to her mouth.

  Brit played with the edges of the menu she knew backward and forward. Since the previous night, she hadn’t slept well. Damian had left her after they had sex, which bode well with the deal they agreed on before they entered her place. But her heart skipped a beat when she remembered the glint of sadness in his eyes when he’d said goodbye.

  “Brit.” Lara raised her voice, pulling Brit from her musings. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  Nikki frowned. “I like your hair. When did you cut it?”

  “This morning,” Brit said, touching the ends of the shoulder-length blunt cut she’d gotten from a hairstylist at the mall.

  Lara withdrew, studying her with narrowed eyes. “You usually get a haircut when you either want to change or want to forget about something.”

  Fuck. Brit’s palms grew damp. She hadn’t told them much about Damian and wouldn’t now. Damn, especially after having slept with him. What kind of crappy friend was she? “I wanted a change. I’m planning on attending a really good convention for makeup artists in New York. Decided to start trying new hairstyles now to see what works best,” she said, managing to sound cool.

  “Oh, right, you mentioned you wanted to go,” Nikki said.

  Lara’s gaze lingered for a moment, as if she suspected her friend’s answer, but she didn’t confront her. “Nice. Has anyone heard from Violet?”

  Brit shifted in her seat. Cold slicked her forehead, and she wondered if a guilty stamp would form there with beads of sweat. “No.”

  “I hope she’s okay. It’s crazy she’s been gone for so long,” Nikki said.

  “Do you think she and Damian would get back together if she returned?” Lara asked.

  Ice dripped into Brit’s blood stream, and she shuddered. She swung her gaze around the restaurant, not focusing anywhere in particular, and hoping they talked about something else, fast. She’d missed Violet dearly, and wanted her friend to return to her life. Healthy and thriving. But a small, petty part of her couldn’t deny her friend’s presence would be a daily reminder of her sleeping with Damian. And that would be a pain to get over.

  “I don’t think so,” Nikki said. “She made it seem like they were done before she left.”

  “Yeah, but what if she’d been out of character then too? Maybe she regrets it now,” Lara said.

  Brit grabbed a generous amount of bread and shoved it in her mouth in a silent prayer for them to change the subject as soon as possible. The waitress came and took their orders, and thank god Nikki started talking about her daughter’s newest milestones and no one pressed on the Violet situation anymore.

  “I need to use the restroom, guys,” Nikki said, standing up. “Be right back.”

  Brit watched her friend go.

  “So, how long have you and Damian been fucking?” Lara asked.

  Her blood turned into a messy, chilly knot in her veins. She clenched the edge of the table, wishing she could disappear. A glance in Lara’s direction solidified the hard truth.

  Lara’s forest green eyes studied her, and she straightened her shoulders. “What? It was all over your face when I asked about Violet. And this haircut idea? Too suspicious.”

  “Damn it, Lara.”

  “What happened?” Lara rocked back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know, Violet didn’t trust us and she took off. Now, you’re keeping secrets too? How hypocritical is that?”

  Man. Lara wasn’t known for mincing words and she wouldn’t start now.

  Brit looked around to make sure no one heard them, then sighed. Her throat felt dry and coarse. She swallowed the lump of doubt lodged there, and said, “You’re right. We shared a moment a week ago, I guess. But we slept together last night for the first and only time.”

  “Listen, I’m not shaming you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Tell me about it. She must like pain, because she’d touched her cell phone enough times that day and contemplated calling or texting Damian like they were some new couple. Self-preservation won the fight, but the fact she’d entertained pursuing him scared her. “Me neither. Thank you.”

  “Good. Hey, if you’re looking to meet someone, the guy I’m seeing has a hot best friend. We could go on a double date.”

  “Is his friend a staunch vegan or has he ever led a save the peacocks parade?” Brit asked, in a lighter note. Usually, the guys Lara dated were as intense about her causes as she was.

  Lara threw a small piece of bread her way. “Nope. He even eats meat.”

  “Promising,” she said. Sure, meeting a man open to a relationship wouldn’t hurt, but was she open to meeting someone so soon after an instacrush on Damian?

  Lara lifted her chin. “Great. How about Friday?”

  “Hey. You look different,” Damian’s nurse Adriana said when Brit walked in. A savvy woman in her late forties, Adriana had a lisp that only made her more adorable. “I’m digging the new hair.”

  Brit shrugged. For the past four days, she’d fantasized about seeing Damian. But according to his schedule, he didn’t need her in his office until today. She cleared her throat. “Thanks.”

  “The makeup too. So pretty,” Adriana said with a gentle smile.

  Okay, so she had spent extra thirty minutes contouring her face and choosing the right highlighter for the occasion. Hopefully she didn’t look like she tried too hard. Insecurities swam in her tummy like sharks in the ocean. “Is Dr. Forrest here?” she asked Adriana, keeping the professional tone she maintained whenever the other nurses or assistants were around.

  “Yes. You can go in his office and continue from where you left off last week. He’ll be in the hospital most of the day.”

  “Sounds good,” she said.

  “I have to go there myself. See you later.”

  She scurried into his office and continued the task she’d been paid to perform. Maybe things weren’t as bad as they were supposed to be. He could have fired her, but instead he booked her when he was out of sight so they didn’t have to see each other. You’re overthinking. The man is a surgeon. He doesn’t need to pretend to be busy.

  She glanced at his imposing heavy oak desk, and without thinking, walked up to it then sat at his leather chair. His manly scent mixed with the notes of wood and bamboo from his cologne, pushed into her nostrils and she inhaled it. When she exhaled, she touched the glass over the polished oak.

  She’d thought crushing over a teacher in high school had been bad.

  Now, she realized it’d been great because she took no action. Her attraction to the young science sub lasted for a few months then withered again, in a platonic bliss. Having slept with Damian only worsened her situation if compared. Memories from his lips on hers, the warmth of his body near hers haunted her common sense.

  Yes, maybe the date she’d agreed on the next day wasn’t such a bad idea. A lunch in a nearby restaurant. How bad could it be?

  “My personal advisor said I could go ahead, so now it’s up to me,” Bill said, sitting across from Damian at the trendy restaurant downtown. When Bill called him and asked if he could meet him for lunch, he couldn’t believe his luck.

  He’d been nothing but frustrated for days—ever since he left Brit’s warm bed and kind heart. She wasn’t scheduled to come in until today, but he hadn’t seen her because he’d been at the hospital in surgeries for most of the morning. “And what can I do to get you on board?”

  Bill played with the fork in his fingers, brushing his filet dish aside. “You know yo
ur assistant. The one you took to the party.”

  “Brit.”

  “Yes, her.”

  His gut clenched. “What about her?”

  “I like her a lot. I think she should join us in this project.”

  Join them? Brit’s helping out was temporary, and he doubted she’d be into long term work opportunities with him. Especially after they slept together. “But she’s not part of the medical field, and doesn’t have any experience in this type of venture.”

  “Well, she’s got experienced making women look prettier, right? And she seems like a very loyal young lady. We’ll find a good position for her. She’ll learn fast,” Bill said, waving him off, like this was the type of decision he made in his sleep.

  Why on Earth would Bill want Brit to work closely with them on the project? As the investor, he wouldn’t be as involved as Damian. A mix of curiosity and jealousy added to the acid spreading into his stomach. “Why do you really believe her presence is essential?”

  “I trust my sixth sense. That’s what Candi calls it.”

  Still not buying it, Damian nodded. “Okay. I’ll get her on board.” He’d also find out the reason why Bill was so interested in her. Well, he knew the reasons, but the thought of another man—

  “Great. Well, I’ll have my lawyer take a look at the contract and get in touch with you next week in case we need to tweak any clauses.”

  “Sounds good. Thank you,” he said.

  “You’re welcome. I have a good feeling about this.”

  “Me too.” He also had a bad feeling about Brit sliding into yet another part of his life. But, damn, if that was the price to get the project off the ground, so be it. But for sure he’d be taking a lot of cold showers.

  Damian removed his white coat and used his key fob to slide it and get access to his office. He walked in, tossing his coat and messenger bag onto the couch, the effects of operating all day wearing him down.

  “Oh, I’ll be done soon,” said a very familiar female voice. He followed the sound to find Brit organizing some files of case studies in front of the credenza. Several folders scattered around her, and she looked… different.

  A strand of lust zapped to his groin. Magnificent.

  She had chopped some inches off her hair, now whispering above her shoulders. The sleek cut brought even more attention to her pretty face. Today, her brown eyes looked bigger, with some shimmering stuff around them. A need to touch her hair, to feel its silkiness shot from his fingertips up his arm.

  “Damian?” she called him. “I wasn’t expecting you, so I decided to get some more stuff out of the way.”

  “That’s fine,” he said, choking out the words.

  “Are you sure?” She tilted her head. “You seem mad.”

  Madly aroused. “Yeah. There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he said, sitting on the couch across from her.

  She stopped stacking the folders and glanced at him. “Shoot.”

  “I met with Bill O’Donnell today. He’s going forward with investing.”

  She shot him a smile so bright, it had had the power of curing illnesses. “Excellent. I’m happy for you. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. He wants you to be involved.”

  “Involved?”

  “Yeah. He likes you and thinks you’ll be a good addition to the team.”

  “But I’ve got no experience in this kind of stuff.”

  “You’re good with people. And he can pay handsomely too,” he said. So could Damian, but he’d better keep himself out of this equation and make it as though this was just a professional opportunity.

  “I have my own career plans,” she said, her voice edgy.

  He perched his hands at his waistline, his spine locking into place. Had he offended her? He didn’t mean to, but millions of dollars rode on her answer. Bill hadn’t spelled it out, but he’d made it clear he wanted Brit to be a part of this—the stubborn man clearly wasn’t used to hearing no. “This won’t be a full-time gig for you. We can have you as a junior project manager until you figure out what capacity your skills will be better used at.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think about it. The company also has good healthcare even for contractors.”

  “You’re pimping me out to Bill in order to get your damn hospital?”

  “No. He’s not interested in you like that,” he said evenly. If he’d detected that kind of interest from Bill, of course he wouldn’t have gone along with it. “If I didn’t see any advantages for you, I wouldn’t ask you to consider the offer.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Can you let me know by tomorrow? Say, around lunch? A phone call will do.”

  “I can’t,” she said, erasing the gap between them so she stepped into his reliable spatial bubble. “See, tomorrow I’ll be on a date around lunch. So no, no phone calls for me.”

  “A date?” He snorted. Every muscle in his body stiffened, and his gaze slid from her eyes to her mouth. A date. Had she been seeing this guy when she slept with him? Not that it mattered, but… oh yeah, it mattered. A painful pang of frustration knotted his pulse. “Do I know him? I thought you said—”

  “That I haven’t gotten laid in a while? I meant it. But after our rendezvous, I realized I miss being in a relationship with a man who won’t dash out of my bed in the middle of the night,” she said, defiance lacing her voice. “So, I decided, why not?”

  When he shifted his attention back to her eyes again, he detected a glint of bitterness in the depth of her irises, matching the half-smile on her face. She stood to her full height, leaning in, perhaps hoping from him the same thing he hoped for—the courage to open up again.

  “I’ll call you in the evening,” he said, turning around and moving the hell away from her.

  6

  “And that is how I got into graphic designing,” the good-looking blond man in front of her said. Max, early thirties, never married and a Capricorn.

  Brit crossed her legs and uncrossed them under the table of the modern Mediterranean cuisine bistro. She reached for her water, trying to calm her nerves, for the second time. For the last forty minutes, they’d talked about their lives, and she’d mentally reminded herself any woman would enjoy talking to a nice, sensible man with a steady job and great hair like Max.

  Why did she act like she was about to get nauseated? She leaned in, bobbing her head and pretending to listen to him and not the evil voices in her head. Because this isn’t right. He isn’t Damian. She’d been so worried about making the wrong choice by sleeping with Damian, but his absence only reminded her how right he’d been for her. At least they shared chemistry.

  “Brit?” Max reached for her hand across the table. “Are you with me?”

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “Yes. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe I’m here with you, this week seemed endless.”

  He smiled. “I understand. Lara told me you’re very close.”

  “Yes. I’ve been lucky in forming a really good group of friends. My girls are really amazing.”

  He took his glass of Chardonnay to his lips. “So are you, Brit.”

  She drew in a breath. God, she should probably tell him she wasn’t ready for a date. No, maybe she should wait until the end. Why make things awkward now? “Thank you,” she said, and took a bite out of her seafood dish to keep from saying anything else.

  I need to invest in a therapist once I make money. She’d always cursed the men who were slippery and ill intentioned, like the moron who got her mother pregnant and took off. Yet she ended up falling for a similar type to Eddie, who left her on her first trimester.

  Perhaps Damian being so upfront about his limitations meant authenticity. Either that or she really sabotaged herself. Why couldn’t she feel attracted to a sweet guy like Max?

  She focused on her food, cowardly hoping the awkward silence would do her job and tell Max she wasn’t interested. Then, her gaze strayed from him to the other
tables. Mostly occupied by business types. She sighed, and opened her mouth to ask him a non-personal question to be polite when her jaw dropped a bit.

  Her heart slammed her ribcage.

  Only a couple of tables down from hers, sat Damian in the flesh. He’d just ordered from the waitress.

  She jerked her head to the other side, clearing her throat. She’d told Adriana where she’d eat as they made small talk in the morning. Had the nurse mentioned it to Damian in passing, or was it a coincidence? He usually ate at the hospital cafeteria unless he had more time on his schedule, which didn’t happen often.

  What the hell? “So what do you like to do on your free time?” she asked, lasering her focus on Max. Poor Max, who had been nothing but attentive and cordial.

  “I like reading, playing tennis, hiking. How about you?”

  “I like…” she started, and glanced around them. What if she imagined things and Damian wasn’t really there? Hope stabbed at her, and she stared at the exact place she’d seen him seconds earlier. Her gaze collided with his, and she shuddered. Nope, this was no hallucination. The man gazed at her blatantly, with an intensity in his eyes she’d never seen before. Should she ignore him? Casually wave and get on with the day? She bit the inside of her cheek and looked at Max. “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” she said, and surged to her feet before she heard his reply.

  Some cold water on her face would help her find some clarity. She’d explain to Max she simply couldn’t date him or anyone until this stupid… crush she developed for Damian cooled or passed. Wouldn’t be fair.

  She dashed through the restaurant, zig-zagging between tables until she found the sign for the restrooms. Rather than male or female, three different doors led to gender neutral, single stall lavatories. She twisted the door handle of the vacant one, entering the dimly lit area, catching a whiff of a pleasant fragrance of warm vanilla and wildflowers.