26. Trish
TRISH
“That worked out quite well, I think,” I told Christine, the pulsing music in the club covering our self-congratulations.
Tonight, my dear friend and I celebrated a project that only affected a beloved few, but this city’s boys’ club mentality assumed the only plotting we ladies were up to was shoe-or-accessory related.
As if.
Christine raised her glass of champagne in a toast. “To brilliant ideas.”
I clinked my glass against hers. “To brilliant partnerships.”
“To brilliant women.” She lifted her glass once more and took a deep drink.
I sipped the bubbly, grateful for friends like Christine Hamilton-Carey, and like Ivy Carmichael, who’d passed on a little tidbit about how happy Kate had seemed on Saturday night with her “friend.”
A sexy man-friend who’d made her smile.
And I was glad of that.
I set my drink down with a knowing smile. “None of this subterfuge would have been necessary if they’d simply admitted that we always know what’s best.”
We checked out the scene at Edge from the lounge, where we were set up with a chilled bottle of bubbly and more breathing room than there was at the bar.
Christine shook her head. “So stubborn. It’s a good thing we are benevolent fairy godmothers.”
We toasted again and debriefed the last few weeks.
For some time, I’d been watching Kate, my brilliant, irreplaceable Kate, peddling for all she was worth just to keep from losing ground on the mountain of trouble left by her last relationship.
I could sense she was on the cusp of burning out, and I knew with a little help she could get over the hump.
I’d made sure she was well paid for everything she did, but Sin City Escorts was an opportunity for me to give Kate the opportunity to gain traction with a hefty bonus.
Was it on the generous side? That didn’t matter nearly as much as the risk of losing her.
I wanted her to have everything she wanted in life because she was valuable to me. Not just for the business. She had a brilliant insight into people and what they wanted, what motivated them, but she was a kind, hardworking, honest woman who didn’t deserve what her horrible ex had done to her.
But I didn’t just want her to be able to pay off her debt. I wanted her to be happy.
And that was where Christine’s brother had come in. I’d had a feeling about him.
Not that kind of feeling.
A feeling that had come from watching Kate when her group of friends made plans that included that man.
Christine crossed her legs. “You are a genius, Trish. There’s nothing I want more than to see my little brother happy.”
I arched a brow. “And what about you, darling? What are you going to do about you being happy?”
Christine simply shrugged. “Someday I’ll find love again. When it’s the right time, I’ll feel it.”
But love took more than a feeling, and it definitely took more than waiting around for “someday.” If my friend didn’t show some initiative, I would have to show some myself and find someone for her too. I’d already outlined a plan for just that possibility.
Sipping my champagne, I asked, “Have I ever introduced you to Daniel, my driver?”
“Your driver ?” she asked, as if that was so incredible.
“Don’t be a snob, darling.”
Christine all but choked on her bubbly. “That’s not what I meant.”
I knew it wasn’t, but I also knew she’d want to prove it and not reject the idea without consideration.
“He’s quite handsome. He’s friendly. His dog can ride with him on his motorcycle, which is too adorable for words.”
“Apparently it isn’t, since you have so much to say about it,” she said with a bit of a smirk.
“He also owns the limo company.”
“If he’s all that, why don’t you keep him for yourself, hmm?”
I smiled because she hadn’t yet offered a real objection. “You know he’s not my type,” I said.
Christine patted me on the knee. “I know he’s not.”
She kicked her foot some more, watched the crowd, sipped her champagne, and I waited, doing much the same thing, but without making a silent pro and con list at the same time.
Finally, she drained her glass, and said, “All right, I’ll do it.”
“What was that?” I asked, cocking my ear her way. “I’m right, and you’ll do as I say?”
She pretended to aim the very pointy toe of her pump at my shin, but of course her heart wasn’t in it. “I said I’ll meet your driver. You should be more gracious in victory.”
“I know,” I said solemnly. “Since I have so much practice at being right.”
And I would be right about Daniel and Christine too. She, like the other women we had cultivated friendships or mutual interests with, did so much for so little credit. She deserved to be happy, and I had a feeling about Daniel.
Later, with a glow of satisfaction, I headed home. Annabelle was waiting for me to fix her supper, and there would be no snuggles if I came in too late.
Well, there would be snuggles eventually. Annabelle never held a grudge for long. That was the lovely thing about rescue spaniels. Nothing was so bad that a bowl of kibble and some tummy rubs couldn’t fix it.
Humans could take a lesson from that.