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I poked my chest. “Don’t worry, my invisible safety suit is lined with iron. None of this is penetrating.”
“Clearly.” Bea rolled her eyes. “Considering you still haven’t told us the worst part.”
This was why I loved Bea. She never pulled punches, but she wasn’t mean. I could take her teasing, no problem. She was more careful with Shira, our tenderhearted friend.
Laughing, I waved my hands in defense. “All right. The worst part? Jake is the VP of a company we’re considering partnering with. He showed up in our conference room yesterday in a suit and tie, looking like my own personal devil.” I cringed. “I can’t ever see him again.”
“Oh no…” Shira repeated. “Was he just as surprised to see you?”
“What are the chances he didn’t know?” Bea asked, ever the doubtful one.
I turned my head to look at her. “That’s what I’d thought, that this was some elaborate set up to soften me toward the deal. If that had been their angle, it was a terrible misstep, considering I’m much more reluctant to even consider their offer now.” I shook my head. “But I don’t think he knew who I was. I’d told him my name was CeeCee, and unless he followed me to Denver from Skyridge, he couldn’t have known where I was from or where I worked.”
“CeeCee is cute,” Shira said.
“Mmmhmm. I want to meet CeeCee. Is she a ditzy little flirt?” Bea shimmied her shoulders, a sardonic grin curving her lips.
Taking on Bea’s usual tone, I deadpanned, “CeeCee is dead.”
“And Clara’s not interested in VP Jake?” Bea filled in.
“If only. That would make all this so simple.” My fingers curled around the padded arms of my pedicure chair. “I told him I’m not dating, and he said he’s not after me for a date.”
Shira whimpered. “He just wants—”
I nodded. “He wants to continue our arrangement…but do it here.”
“Even after the meeting?” Bea asked.
“Well, I don’t know.” I picked at the stitching in the arm of the chair. “He asked me to dinner to talk about the situation. I obviously turned him down—”
“Obviously?” Bea pressed. “Why wouldn’t you want to talk about it? You’re a talker. It’s how you figure out important decisions. You talk and talk until it makes sense.”
“Why does that feel like criticism?”
Her huff of a laugh told me to stop being silly. “It’s an observation. Some of us internalize when we’re making a big decision. You go external.”
“It’s true,” Shira agreed. “Which is why I’m shocked you didn’t tell us about Jake sooner.”
“Well, there was never any debate about him,” I replied. “What we were doing worked for me. But now it can’t possibly continue, which is so damn disappointing.”
“It could, you know.” Bea poked my hand. “You need an outlet. A grown-up outlet that has nothing to do with being a mom.”
She knew me too well. If she hadn’t added the last part, I would have brought up the Mommy and Me paint class Nellie and I took and our weekend morning hikes, which were steadily getting longer as she grew.
“Maybe, but it can’t be him.” This, I was firm on. Seeking out someone nearby for a casual arrangement was one thing, but Jake was off the table. Things were too tangled now with the potential Motor Zone deal. But the thought of any other man touching me like Jake had held no interest. Quite the opposite, it actively repelled me.
“Maybe is a big step for you,” Shira observed. “I know you feel guilty any time you leave Nellie, but if you were married, you wouldn’t feel that way.”
“But I’m not.” My nails dug into the cushy arm. “Because of me, Nellie doesn’t have a father. I messed up by choosing poorly, and now—”
“Oh, come on. That’s such bullshit,” Bea declared. “Nellie doesn’t have a father because your ex was an undercover psycho. You can’t possibly take the blame for his actions.”
“I should have known,” I protested.
“No one knew,” Shira said. “My point is, you have a village of people who love Nellie almost as much as you do. There’s no reason for you to feel guilty about letting her hang out with us, or her grandparents, or her aunt and uncle, or her nan—”
“Okay, okay.” I smoothed a hand over my hair, offering her a smile. “I’m Italian. Feeling guilty is in my DNA.”
