Worry creases the corners of her eyes. “Free of charge, right?”
“Yes.”
Relief colors her expression with bright eyes, and a hint of that pink in her cheeks kisses her skin. Why does she have to be so fucking beautiful? “Thank you, Rad. What can I do for you in return?”
“Nothing. It’s fine,” I reply, glancing down. “Really, it’s no big deal.” I’d never require a favor in return, especially not from her, but my mind goes to the gutter because yeah . . . I’m an asshole. A few good deeds can’t change that fact.
She adjusts the strap of her bag over her head and settles it on her hip. “You’re busy, and I’ve already taken up too much of your time. I need to get back to work before I’m late, and let’s face it, I’ve already made this awkward by asking for a favor I can’t return. I’m going to take the win and get out of your hair.”
Our eyes connect one last time before she opens the door. Barely filling half the doorway, she says, “It was . . .”
I nod. “It was.”
Smiles are exchanged before she turns and runs right into a Pepto-pink suit. “Marlow? Hey? Hi.”
Just what I didn’t need today. A groan rumbles through me.
“Helllooo.” The most boisterous and vain of our group, Marlow Marché arrives like she’s late for a red-carpet event. She may annoy me sometimes, but there’s also something strangely charming and captivating about her that draws people in. I just wish she wasn’t making a show of things in my office. Marlow asks, “What are you doing here, Tealey?”
“I stopped by to visit Rad.”
Marlow laughs, the sound echoing around the office. “Are you two having a party without me?” She nudges Tealey with an elbow and another giggle. “Meeting in the middle of the day is how rumors get started.”
“No need for gossip,” Tealey responds and then shrugs. “I just needed to talk to Rad.” Glancing at me, she smiles softly. “Thanks again. Call me later, Marlow.”
“I will,” Marlow says, nipping our friend’s heel with the door as she exits. “Bye, Teals.” As soon as the door is closed, Marlow leans against the back of it, her eyes piercing me from across the room. “When did the two of you get so chummy?” she asks, an insinuation embedded in the question.
I’d like to ask her why she’s here, but I already know. A visit from Marlow only means one thing: she wants something. “We’re friends,” I reply casually. Why do I feel like we were doing something wrong?
“Yeah, but not usually outside of Jackson, Cammie, Cade, and me.”
“It’s no big deal. She just wanted to talk about some stuff.”
She sags in relief and then pushes off the door. “Phew, I’m so glad she told you. That secret was killing me.”
Even though I’ve known her as long as Tealey, I’ve never understood how those two became best friends with their night and day personalities. She struts toward me like she’s walking a Paris runway, and I watch the whirlwind of a woman as her emotions twist around her, ready to usurp me into her drama, and I brace myself. “Told me what?”
“That she needs help.”
It’s not like Tealey to share individual cases with the group. Today with me makes sense since she needed help, but I’m surprised she’d tell the others. “Yes, we discussed the situation.”
Marlow perches on the chair across from me. “Good. I was afraid I would have to get involved, and I just don’t have time. I have appointments at the art gallery today.”
“You don’t have time to help a friend?” Taking the file Tealey left with me, I open it. “Your best friend, I might add.”
“How could I possibly help? Have her sleep on the couch for months on end? I offered her money, but you know Tealey. She has a saint’s heart.”
Why would Tealey be sleeping on her couch? “Wait, what?”
She looks at me like I’m dense. “Tealey’s moving to Texas,” she says as if I have comprehension problems. Maybe I do.
Tealey.
Texas?
What the hell is she talking about?
2
Rad
“What do you mean? Tealey is moving to Texas?”
“She was, but you stepped in to help her. Thank God. I don’t know how I’d survive this city without her.”
The sound of the pounding in my chest reaches my ears. “Slow down, back up, and say that again.”
“I. Don’t. Know. How. I’d. Survive—”
“Not that part,” I snap, my irritation getting the better of me. “Before that.”
“Tealey moving to Texas?”
I nod. “What do you mean she’s moving?”
“What do you mean what do I mean?” She swirls her hand in the air like we’re playing a game of charades. “It’s when you load a car or truck full of your belongings—”
“Not funny.”
I shake my head in disbelief that Tealey would move away and not tell me. She was just here. Why wouldn’t she say something?
“Are you okay, Rad?”
“Yeah. Just confused. She was just here and didn’t say—”
“I wasn’t supposed to either, but since she told you, it’s fair game to discuss.” She pauses and blinks. “Wait, she didn’t say what?”
The pit of my stomach grows heavier, and I swallow. “She didn’t tell me she was moving.”
Jolting her neck back, she shakes her head. “What do you mean?”
“It’s when you don’t reveal—”
“Ha-ha.”
I shift, the chair squeaking in protest. Why does it sting that she didn’t tell me—especially when she had the opportunity? My mind races. Does she need help, or is something else going on? Is she moving for work? Is this move set in stone? Is that why she wanted to make sure Misty’s case was being handled by someone she trusts? Because she won’t be here to see it through?
“I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but since you know . . .” Marlow flops into the chair, concern etched on her face. Despite Marlow’s dramatics, she’s caring at her core. She says, “You need to convince her to stay.” No shit.
“How?”
“I can’t share too much—” She sits forward. “Talk to her one-on-one and see what you can get out of her. I don’t know why she’s keeping it a secret from everyone. She didn’t even tell Cammie. She can’t leave us. Is there even an us without her?”
All valid points. “Why would she tell me the reason she’s leaving if she won’t tell you?”
“Oh, she told me.” She flips her hair behind her shoulder. “I just wasn't really listening. I mean, how was I supposed to when the perfect pale-pink Birkin crossed in front of my eyes while we were at the bistro on 5th?”
Frustration creeps up my spine. “You weren’t listening? Your best friend was telling you—forget it.” Why am I not surprised that Marlow wasn't listening when her friend was talking? I know. We all know. Unless it’s about Marlow, she’s oblivious.