He smiles and studies us curiously. “I feel like I should order bacon just to drive you crazy.”

  “I’m not ready for that kind of punishment,” I quip, feeling pretty good about how Truly and I just worked that out like adults. And about how now we can have lunch with her brother. Like adults. And we can all make jokes. Like adults.

  Malone glances at me then at his twin. “All right. I’m ready for your confession. You guys asked for this meeting. Let me guess—you’re finally going to tell me you’re into each other. I’m shocked. Absolutely shocked.”

  Wow. Nick called that one. From ten miles away. Still, that’s not what this lunch is about.

  “Yes, that’s what I want to tell you,” I say, keeping it professional and straightforward. “Truly and I were involved briefly, but we’re not going to be involved anymore. We’re staying friends. We both agreed to it. It’ll be great.”

  “It was mutual,” Truly chimes in, cool, calm, and rational. More proof that this decision is the right one. “We had a thing. It happened a couple of times. But we’re just not at the place in our careers where we can date each other. We’re still good friends, and we wanted to assure you of that, because we don’t expect any weirdness.”

  My God, she sounds so on top of this. She’s a brilliant businesswoman, unperturbed by blips.

  “If you’re back on the friendship train, why are you telling me retroactively?”

  I jump in. “We wanted to be up front because we were involved behind your back for a little bit.”

  Malone snickers. “You make it sound like I’m the wronged spouse. I’m your friend, dickhead. Not your wife.”

  Truly reaches out her hand and clasps her brother’s. “You and I had an agreement. We had a pact, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin your friendship with Jason, so we wanted to be straightforward, even though we’re not together. And we’re completely fine not being together.”

  Malone holds up his hands to slow this conversational train. “Wait. Are you two breaking up because you think it bothers me? Because it doesn’t, and I would also never tell either one of you not to be involved with each other. Not my place, not my role.”

  Truly is intense when she answers. “I’m telling you because after what happened with Sarah, we made a deal that friends were off-limits.”

  He sighs, his voice softening. “Truly, we made that deal when we were twenty-one or twenty-two. We’re thirty-five now. And Sarah was a lunatic, if you ask me. I know it hurt to lose her, and I’m not belittling that, but I don’t want some pact we made well over a decade ago to keep you from happiness.”

  “I’m happy. I swear. So happy. So totally happy. Work makes me happy. It’s all good. Who has time for relationships anyway?” she says, laughing, underscoring my point—she’s on the same page, and she’s obviously ecstatic. Hell, she said she was happy four times.

  Malone raises his hand. “I do. A lot of people do.”

  She pats his shoulder. “And that’s great. But we’re in a different spot. The timing simply isn’t right.”

  “The timing is rubbish,” I second, because how can he not get it? We’re doing the right thing here—being honest, being up front, and letting go of something that’s too distracting.

  He leans back in the booth. “Let me see if I have this straight. You like each other. You’ve been involved, like we all thought you would be. But you’re not going to be involved with each other anymore because of”—he coughs like he can’t quite believe what we’re saying—“timing?”

  But speaking of timing, I have work to do, so I cut in. “Listen, I’m glad you’re not pissed. You are truly a prince among men. But the reality is, Truly and I are fine with this decision. We both agreed to concentrate on growing our businesses.”

  Malone nods like he has a surplus of them to dish out. “Right. Yeah. Growing your business is definitely the most important thing in life.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “Do I detect a note of sarcasm?”

  “You should detect about fifty thousand notes of sarcasm. Because the two of you are idiots if that’s the reason you’re not together.”

  I jerk my gaze to him, staring sharply. “You want us to be involved?”

  “If you like each other, you should be together. It’s really that simple. I’m not the barrier you might have thought I was. I’m also absolutely not surprised you’re in love. The two of you have acted like a couple for the longest time, and it has never bothered me. In fact, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” He points to me, then to his sister. “But what does surprise me is how you’re both so goddamn stubborn and ridiculous. I can’t believe you’re claiming that timing is the reason you’re splitting up.”

  Truly lifts her chin, clearing her throat. “It makes perfect sense for Jason. For me too. And right now, what makes perfect sense is enjoying a chicken sandwich and french fries. Let’s do that.”

  With that slice of the knife, Truly ends the conversation.

  When the check arrives, Malone lunges for it then says, “What I’d most like to do is bang your heads together, but all that would come out is hot air and a bunch of canned responses about work, work, work. So instead I’ll leave you with this: hope you enjoy curling up with your job tonight.”

  When we’re through, I’m so damn relieved to get the hell out of there, because he just doesn’t get it.

  46

  From the pages of Truly’s Drink Recipe Book

  Get Your Ass Back in The Saddle:

  One Shot of Tequila

  Let’s say you lost out on a chance that was important to you.

  Maybe you wanted something so badly, and it felt so right, but then you let it slip through your fingers.

  But you had to.

  You had your reasons. After all, you weren’t going to beg him to stick around. He clearly wanted out. And you know what that’s like. Hell, that’s why your last relationship ended. Over work. It would be unladylike to beg him to stay when you would have laughed in the face of a guy who did that to you. Letting him go gracefully is the right thing to do.

  This way, you stay friends.

  This way, he won’t know how much it hurt.

  That’s why it’s time for a straight-up shot of gin.

  But fuck gin.

  The truth is this: you need a shot of tequila. You need something that burns.

  Take one shot of tequila.

  It will burn the ache away.

  Chase it with the fire in your belly, and then get your ass to work.

  Charlotte: Tell me everything.

  Truly: I wanted to lean on Jason’s shoulder. He made it clear that shoulder was off-limits.

  Charlotte: Grrrr.

  Truly: He believes falling in love distracted him, and I’m not going to sit there and try to convince him otherwise. I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself and say no you idiot, that makes no sense. Instead, I said it sounded . . . brilliant

  Charlotte: Let me make sure I have this right. Mister Modern Gentleman somehow finessed a breakup to make it seem mutual?

  Truly: I suppose he did. Clever guy. But what was I going to do? It was clear he wasn’t ready. So I went along with it and said I agreed, and that’s what we told Malone too.

  Charlotte: So you two made it seem like you preemptively broke up so you wouldn’t lose your focus even though your brother is and was totally fine with you two being the couple we all had bets you’d become?

  Truly: And you all lost, I guess. Turns out we’re not a couple at all.

  Charlotte: I’m sorry, sweetie.

  Truly: It’ll be fine. Men, right?

  Charlotte: I swear. They don’t always see what’s in front of them. And it sounds like he’s spiraling. His words. I’ve read his columns on it. He actually has given really good advice to men when they spiral, and yet, the ding dong is spiraling. He’s feeding this storm inside him.

  Truly: Sounds like he might be, but it doesn’t matter now. Maybe it’s for the best. I can use this time to recalibrate. Figure out if I want to find a new investor, or something else.

  Charlotte: So glad you’re diving right back into work and more work and hey, let’s have another serving of work.

  Truly: What should I be doing? I have responsibilities to Gin Joint. I have employees to take care of. And I need to zero in on my expansion plans.

  Charlotte: You already run an incredibly successful establishment. Hell, we both run incredibly successful bars. We are kick-ass businesswomen in New York City. So what if you don’t expand? You have a great place in front of you.

  Truly: But I lined up my people. I had employees in place. I have a gal who was going to help run the new pub.

  Charlotte: Promote her to manager at Gin Joint. Maybe you could work less then.

  Truly: I don’t work that much!

  Charlotte: How do you say that with a straight face? It’s a Saturday afternoon and you’re at work. Am I right?

  Truly: Saturday is my busiest time. It’s normal to work on a Saturday.

  Charlotte: Yes. But you also worked Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. All day. I bet you work Saturday night too.

  Truly: Which reminds me. I still have to go to the stupid wedding with him tonight.

  Charlotte: Good thing you’re at work then. You definitely need a shot.

  47

  Sometimes you need comic relief.

  I find it at the gym that afternoon.

  Josh is cycling on a stationary bike like he’s trying to win the Tour de France. What kills me is how he looks.

  I walk straight over to his bike and wave a hand in front of his face, since he’s staring at ESPN like he wants to rip off the screen with his bare teeth. I glance over at the television captions—something or other about an NFL rookie who signed with Dallas.

  Let me guess—not Josh’s client.

  But I don’t need to stir the grizzly bear.

  Instead, I point to the Bluetooth device dangling from his ear.

  He looks to me. “What? What’s going on?”

  “You really don’t know?”

  He looks at me, still cycling, still panting, still not giving a shit that he looks like a total idiot.

  “You have your earring on. Your Bluetooth, dickhead.”

  He reaches up and laughs self-deprecatingly as he tucks the device in his shorts pocket. “Oh. Guess I forgot to take it off.”

  “You realize you look like a complete twat like that?”

  “Hey, I don’t look like a twat. I look like a dipshit.”

  “No, you look like a total tool. That better?”

  He offers me a fist. “Knock me, brother. You’re getting the lingo down properly now.”

  “You’re so American.”

  “You’re so British.”

  “All right, so you’ve taken that dumb Bluetooth off,” I say as I hop on the bike next to him and begin a warm-up cycle.

  “Yeah, but I was talking to a client before, when I was climbing a hill. That’s why I had it on.”

  “I’m sure your client enjoyed when you were talking to him and panting.”

  “They’re athletes. They’re always working out when I’m talking to them.” He narrows his eyes and raises his chin in a question. “So what’s going on? You’re not your usual happy self.”

  “Am I usually happy?”

  “You’re like the happiest lad around. You’re always a barrel of sunshine or a bollock of dogs or a bushel of cats’ pajamas, or whatever it is that you say,” he says, deliberately botching sayings he knows well.

  I sigh and decide to tell him what went down today. When I’m done, I add, “So that’s the whole pathetic story.”

  “I told you, you can’t let work get you down. You can’t let work dictate your life.”

  “Says the man who wears his Bluetooth at the gym.”

  “I was taking a call. And I had to because this is a cutthroat business. Sharks are swimming everywhere, and I need to protect my clients. I have to talk to them whenever they need me.”

  I arch a brow. “You’re proving my point exactly. You’re constantly on. You don’t have an off mode. I have to be the same.”

  “No. I’m telling you that sometimes you have to let things go.”

  “Why do I? Do you let things go? I don’t think you do.”

  He stabs a finger against his chest. “I’m as single as the day is long. Different boat, my friend. No one gets hurt when I work all hours. But you? You do. You love this woman, right?”

  “Did I say I loved her?”

  He rolls his eyes. “You’re such an asshole. You don’t have to say you love her. You don’t have to use the word love for it to be apparent. The way you told that story, it was stupidly obvious that you’re madly in love with her.”

  “‘Madly in love with her’?” I parrot, because there’s a hard shell over my heart right now, and I don’t even know how to crack it.

  Josh slows his pace and stares hard at me. “Yes. Madly in love, Jason. I don’t know about you, but if I felt the way you seem to feel, I’d like to think I wouldn’t let work stand in the way. Just food for thought.” He presses a button to end his workout. “And on that note, I have a meeting about the shortstop I’m trying to win.”

  “So you’re not letting work stand in the way, right?”

  He moves to the front of my bike and parks his hands on the handlebars. “I’m not in love with the shortstop, dickhead.”

  “Love you too, asshole.”

  When I return to my apartment, I Skype the one person who’ll understand. Abby answers on the first ring with a yawn. “It’s practically eleven p.m. Why are you calling me now?”

  “Because I love you.”

  “I love you too. But you never call this late unless something’s on your mind. Spill.”

  I flop onto my couch, my arm hanging off the side. “I’ve got to go to another wedding tonight. And it’s going to fucking suck.”

  “Why is it going to suck?”

  I grit my teeth then fume. “Because evidently I have feelings for Truly, but I can’t be with her, and yet I have to be with her at a wedding tonight. Doesn’t that just take the piss out of everything?”

  She laughs. “That takes the piss out of literally everything.”

  “I thought it was going to be easy until my friend Josh reminded me of one annoying fact.”

  “What did he remind you?”

  “Turns out I’m actually in love with her.”

  She smiles from across the ocean. “Aww. Love is awesome. Studies show hearts are healthier when you’re in love, so it’s good medicine too.”

  “Ah, so that’s what you’re learning in medical school.”

  “Pretty useful, wouldn’t you say? But why is being in love hard? I thought the issue was you being best mates with her brother?”

  “Who knew? Apparently the bastard is fine with it.”

  She pumps her fist. “Yay. That’s awesome!”

  “No, it’s not. It’s awful. Because there’s no time for love. Love is distracting, and nothing is working. Therefore, I’m pissed and annoyed, and I hate everything.”

  She stifles a laugh. “Poor you. But are you annoyed because of work or because you’re in love with her?”

  I sit up, dragging a hand through my hair. “Because I’m trying to meet these bills. I’m trying to make things happen,” I say, letting too much slip.

  She narrows her eyes. “Wait. Hold on. We had a deal. You were paying for my school, but not if it drove you mad. And clearly, you’re going mad. Barking mad, as Ron Weasley would say.”

  “He’s a twat.”

  “Don’t be harshing on my Weasley.”

  “Weasley is a twat, like me. Both of us are penniless twats.”

  “Wow. This is a whole new level of moping. Also, for the record, I’ll take out a loan for the rest of med school. I never wanted you to pay for it if it was going to make you miserable and work twenty-four seven, you daft idiot.”

  “Daft idiot?”

  “Oh, excuse me, like you’ve never heard me call you that before?”

  “No, I think you should’ve called me a daft prick though,” I say, and then a laugh I didn’t expect bursts from my chest. Because holy fuck. That’s exactly how I’m behaving. I’m behaving worse than the night I went to Walker’s club.

  “I should get ready for the wedding. I have to see Truly tonight, and I need to be one hundred percent focused on my client. Perhaps I should take up yoga in the next few minutes to get her out of my mind.”

  “Or maybe don’t?”

  “Don’t take up yoga?”

  “Don’t worry about getting her out of your mind, because that’s not where she is. She’s in your heart. And you’re so damn focused on work. You say it’s because of me and school and bills, and that’s true to some extent, but I swear, I can find a way to cover them. Or take out loans and still be just fine. Please don’t let me be the person who stands in your way.” She takes a beat, takes a breath. “But I don’t think I’m actually the reason.”

  “What? Are you kidding? I made you a promise, and I’m not breaking it.”

  She groans and moves even closer to the screen. “You’re not listening, Jason. I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about that heart of yours. You locked it in a cage after Claire left. It’s made you afraid. You’re afraid that you’re going to lose out, that you’re going to have to reinvent yourself like you did after Claire left. But things will always change. That’s life.” She clears her throat and dives back into it. “No matter what happens with Truly, you’re going to have to figure out what to do with work and where the Modern Gentleman goes next. Don’t you see my point?”

  “I’m not sure I do.” But for the first time all day, I start to shuck off my hard edge, my anger, my frustration. Because I want to understand my sister and what she’s telling me. Maybe, just maybe, I want to find a way to the other side of this terrible mess. “Try to help me see it.”

  She softens further, taking a lower, kinder tone. “The question is, do you want to sort out all these work issues on your own? Or do you want to sort them out with somebody who loves you and supports you, and probably wants to be there for you as you navigate your way through?”