“He’s back? Holy shit.”
“Back from where?” With a suit like that and a side-part to boot, it sure as hell wasn’t prison, unless he was a white collar criminal. Tony could dream.
“He moved to Paris to front his father’s European operations. A couple years ago, I think. Maybe three. Where’d you meet him?”
“At her house. He stopped by while I was there.” Tony couldn’t keep the sneer from his lips.
“Shit,” Angie said again, her eyes widening.
“You don’t say.” Tony dropped his head and shoulders, and spied the decapitated clover littering the grass at his feet. What the hell was he doing? This was supposed to be about giving Nonna the ultimate joy. How had it turned into Tony being…?
“Wait a minute, are you jealous? Worried? You are. Both.” Angie stood. “You think she’s getting back with Stu? Did she tell you she was getting back with Stu? I thought things were good between you guys.”
Too many questions. They mixed with the questions already crowding his mind. “Yeah, sorry. I’m done, Ange. No more. I gotta get outta here. Go for a long ride. I’m gonna clear my head. See you tomorrow.”
He didn’t wait for her protests. He trampled grass beneath his feet until he reached the backdoor. With a deep breath, he opened the screen and stepped inside, ready to face another goodbye, hoping this one wouldn’t be the last.
But the way things were going, it’d be just his luck.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Trish guided her Volvo around the pothole at the top of her street and glanced in the rearview mirror at the original Andy Warhol painting secured in brown paper and bubble wrap, and wedged into the back of the SUV. Satisfied the painting was no worse for the trip from the framing gallery, Trish returned her gaze to the road and then to her house, looming ahead.
Angie sat on the front porch steps.
Trish blinked. Seeing her there was a dream come true…but why was she there, out of the blue, looking more somber than usual? Trish whimpered. What if something happened to Nonna? Or what if Angie and Tony had a blow out? What if Angie knew the truth?
This time when Trish tried to whimper, the breath caught in her throat. She’d never shared details of her baby plan with Angie, but they talked enough for Angie to know how much Trish wanted kids. Maybe in the midst of fighting with Tony, Angie mentioned Trish’s desire for a family, and maybe Tony spilled the truth. Trish exhaled, because honestly, how could things get any worse? If Angie knew, then maybe they could figure out a way to go back to being best friends instead of distant co-workers.
Trish pulled alongside the retaining wall and into the narrow driveway, tossing Angie a nervous smile.
Angie stood, brushed the seat of her pants and offered a nod as Trish existed the car. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Trish returned, strangling her handbag. “How are you?”
She huffed, and then sat again. “Shitty. So let’s get this out of the way. I’m sorry.” She sat there all stiff, staring at the callused palms of her hands. “I was worried about you. It probably didn’t seem that way, but it’s true.” She smacked her hands against her thighs and wiggled, like she was trying to rid herself of the emotion. “Are we okay?”
Relief washed over Trish, slipping from the corner of her eyes and onto her cheeks. She dabbed at the tears with her fingertips as she walked to the porch and took a seat beside Angie. “We’re good.”
“Good. Now, are you okay?” She frowned as if she already knew the answer. “Tony, um…he told me about Stu.”
Trish’s stomach rolled on the realization that Tony and Angie had been discussing her. Funny, though. She wasn’t bothered by the reminder of Stu. Thoughts of him sort of came and went without any visceral reaction. “You know, I don’t feel anything for him. Something has changed. With him. With me. With both of us. I knew the moment I opened the door and saw him standing there. I’m over him.”
“Because of Tony.” Angie sighed and leaned so far forward her head was almost between her knees. “Am I right?”
After the conversation with her father left Trish thinking about all the ways Tony was “good to her,” she hated to think about Angie’s question, and she sure as heck didn’t want to answer, so she stared straight ahead at cars rolling down the tree-lined street.
How would she answer anyway? If she admitted her lack of feelings for Stu was in any part related to Tony, which part was to blame? The plan for a baby, which complicated reconciliation with Stu, or her troubling feelings for Tony, which twisted her plan and her heart? Neither one was something she wanted to discuss with Angie this soon after mending what was broken between them.
“Do you love him?”
“Who?” Trish gasped, mortified at the thought of loving uptight, overwrought Stu again. But then she was equally horrified that the same quick thought about Tony didn’t conjure similar objections. Certainly she didn’t love him, couldn’t love him. She was just coming to terms with being attracted to him and him being attracted to her.
“Do you love my brother?”
Trish rolled mashed lips between her teeth as her stomach pitched and her heart burned. “I…think I might be pregnant.” It was a diversion, sure, but it was also true. She’d been feeling odd lately, hoping hormones were to blame, but she didn’t know, and she was tired of obsessing by herself. If she couldn’t share random emotions with her best friend, then where did that leave her?
“Shit,” Angie whispered, but then her arm snaked Trish’s shoulder and she squeezed. “I knew something careless like this would happen.” She huffed. “Does he know?”
Trish nodded through a mix of relieved and guilty tears.
Angie squeezed Trish’s shoulder again. “Well, what’s done is done, and he knows what he has to do.”
Trish opened her mouth to breath, not liking the ominous tone of Angie’s voice. What did Tony have to do? Stand by Trish? Of course he would. But the way Angie clenched and released her fist as her hand dangled from the arm perched on her knee, Trish dreaded something more.
“It’s all very preliminary,” Trish said, hoping to soothe. “We haven’t talked about details beyond the possibility that I might be…”
“He has to marry you. That’s the honorable thing to do. And this time he’ll shirk his responsibility over my dead body.”
Maybe over Trish’s, too, because this was way more than her heart and head could handle. Marry Tony? Her stomach pitched again. “It’s not like that, Ange. Please, don’t. I might not even be pregnant. There’s still a week before I can test. But…if I am, you have to let Tony and me work this out…alone. I’m begging you.” She reached up and squeezed Angie’s hand.
Angie snatched her hand away and dropped her arm, returning to her rigid position, leaning forward so Trish couldn’t see her face. “Don’t beg. Dogs beg.”
Ouch. The coldness in Angie’s tone was worse than her words.
“Fine,” Trish said, trying to sound assertive rather than overly emotional. “I’m
Angie’s shoulders slumped, and her head fell forward further. Her breaths echoed in the evening stillness, leaving Trish to struggle for something to say.
But Angie beat her to it. “You know what I wouldn’t give for a single day without worrying about the people I love?”
The knot in Trish’s belly floated into her throat. This wasn’t fair of Trish to put more strain on Angie and Tony’s relationship, to give Angie one more thing to worry about when she was already worried out about Nonna. Trish patted circles over Angie’s back. “I’m so sorry, hon.”
Moments of raw emotion were far and few between them, even as best friends. Angie was stoic as a rule. This…this killed Trish, and she leaned her head into Angie’s shoulder, not knowing what else to do. They sat like
