Page 82 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

“Our firm has represented Lorelai for several years.”

“Brody.” Lucas’s voice is professorial, just a tinge disappointed in his dullard student.

I shake my head at my best friend and one-time closest confidante, but the truth is, Brody’s also played that role for Lucas. Clearly, Brody’s ready to confess as much as he’s able. “Almost six years.”

“So, around the time Lorelai’s father bought the apartment complex my mother lives in?”

I suck in a breath as Lucas turns shockingly calm eyes in my direction. Official real estate ownership transfers are public records, if you know where to look. But… “How long have you known?”

“Almost two months. My mother won’t move, you see. I’ve offered, several times, to buy her a nicer place, but she maintains that she loves her neighbors and the rent is reasonable.” A pause. “How reasonable, you might ask?”

I shake my head, because there’s no need: This was part of my agreement with my father.

“She told me, again, just two months ago, that no one’s raised her rent in six years.” Lucas shakes his head, as if astonished at his own stupidity. “I didn’t even question it when she said it. Lots of landlords are laissez-faire. Maybe they thought she was rent-controlled. Maybe they were planning on tearing it down and hadn’t gotten around to permits. Who knows? Either way, it finally occurred to me that the only way to improve my mother’s living situation was to purchase the building she currently lives in, renovate it around her. Imagine my surprise when my assistant told me who owned it.” He turns his gaze to Brody.

“I wasn’t personally involved in that transaction. That said, public records would show⁠—”

“That it closed weeks before Lorelai dumped me.”

Brody nods before throwing a helpless gaze toward me. “He’s Lucas Fucking Murray—he was always going to figure it out eventually.”

“You kept this from me for six years.”

“NDA,” Brody tells Lucas, a muscle at his jaw ticcing.

“No worries. The timeline seems clear: Lorelai’s father develops an interest in run-down Pasadena properties. Lorelai dumps me and gets engaged to Tatum Huang. Suddenly, there are lots of photos of highly publicized fundraisers.”

I shrug now, because he’s clearly figured most of it out.

There is a tense beat as the three of us regard one another, a weird standoff that’s just missing Western music, guns, and a tumbleweed.

Brody is the first to clear his throat. “Here’s what isn’t protected by NDA: I was interning with my parents when Lorelai texted me needing a lawyer. My mother was hired, but as an intern, I was bound by the same attorney-client privilege as soon as we signed her.”

I can’t make eye contact with Lucas. I’m too scared to look up and see how he might react. Instead, I shake my head at Brody, who knows I wanted Lucas to know as little as possible. To know nothing, if possible.

My best friend of eight years, for once, ignores me. “It’s a very thin line I’m treading here, but when Lorelai first called me as a friend, I took notes. If I had, theoretically, kept those notes, they’d be inadmissible, but potentially informative.”

He reaches for his wallet and takes out a folded, frayed piece of binder paper that has a noticeable coffee stain. I get up so quickly I almost trip over my dress, but Lucas is faster, taking the folded paper from Brody before I’m even halfway across the room.

Brody spreads his hands wide in supplication. “I’m gonna say this once and then we’ll never mention it again, okay?” He claps his hands together, the old Brody drama-queen flair we always teased him for, even though his voice is somber when he finally speaks. “I’m sorry, Lorelai, for not being able to help you as much as I wanted to, as I ought to have. I’m sorry, Lucas, that I kept this from you, that I couldn’t think of a way around needing to keep this from you. This friendship has been the greatest privilege of my life. Feeling as though I’ve failed you, both of you, is my biggest regret.”

Lucas leans forward to embrace Brody, and I feel the hateful tears welling up.

I blame the lupus, because these days, I blame everything on lupus.

Brody’s lips move, close to Lucas’s ear, but I can’t make out any of the words.

Brody hugs me next. He squeezes both of my hands. “You don’t owe him anything, but he’s Lucas Fucking Murray. He figured most of it out before any note I might have given him. Meaning you have to decide whether you want to share your reasoning while you still can.”

Lucas waits for Brody to let me go before he stands and holds out a hand. “Are you willing to talk?”

“You said we had a truce.” I pack away my laptop with numb fingers.

From the way his eyes narrow, I can see how frustrated he is. “We can wait, if you’d prefer.”

“Brody and Vi⁠—”

“Can definitely wait.”