fancy and then running away from the fallout had been her speciality. She smoothed damp palms over the vintage dress she’d picked up in a thrift store in Brooklyn a week ago. How inconvenient that she wasn’t that reckless, irresponsible tart any more.
‘Can I get you something, miss?’
Gina pasted a smile on her face at the helpful enquiry from the college kid who was waiting tables.
‘Something hot and strong would be good,’ she said, checking him out from force of habit.
His fresh face flushed a dull red. ‘Umm... What did you have in mind, miss?’
‘Coffee,’ she said, taking pity on him as the flush went from pink to vermillion. ‘And this morning I’m going to need it neat.’
He nodded. ‘Coming right up.’
She watched him stroll off and smiled.
While she might not be in the market for indiscriminate flings any more, it was satisfying to know she hadn’t lost her touch.
In fact, as she took a long gulp of the watery diner coffee ten minutes later, she felt almost mellow. Until the revolving door at the front of the restaurant spun round and out popped Marnie Price looking cute and efficient in her power suit and kitten heels. Gina lifted a hand to wave, and watched Marnie’s expression go from keen to wary when she spotted the empty seat next to her.
The hollow roll of regret flopped over in Gina’s stomach. While it was certainly true that she and the Savannah Belle hadn’t had a thing in common when they’d first met at Reese’s house on campus—and Gina had spent most of that first month teasing Marnie mercilessly about everything from her views on love and marriage to her perfect Southern manners—their friendship had eventually developed into something strong and supportive and surprisingly genuine.
The truth was, Gina had felt superior to Marnie then. Gina had considered herself a sophisticated, cosmopolitan woman of the world who knew all she needed to know about men and sex and relationships—unlike the sheltered, self-confessed Southern virgin.
But Marnie had grown on Gina, despite their differences. Because beneath those pristine Southern manners had been an admirable devotion to doing the right thing, being accountable for your actions and always believing the best of people. And then Gina had gone and mucked everything up by jumping into bed with the brother Marnie idolised—and discovered in the process she was hardly the poster girl for mature relationships either.
But if there was something Gina regretted even more than giving in to temptation that night, it was taking that bright, trusting light out of Marnie’s eyes. Something that now appeared to be gone for good.
‘Hi, Gina.’ Marnie sent her a polite smile as she slid into the booth. ‘Are we early?’ she asked, probably hoping Reese—who was never late—would magically materialise and get them out of this predicament.
If only. ‘Reese can’t make it. Something came up, apparently.’ Gina took a judicious sip of her coffee, resisting the urge to say the something was probably a key part of the hot ex-husband’s anatomy.
‘And I’ll bet I know what it is,’ Marnie murmured, making Gina choke on her coffee. ‘I swear, you’d think Mason had invented sex the way Reese gushes about the guy.’
Gina put down her cup, a grin forming despite the underlying tension. ‘Gushes being the operative word.’
Marnie gave a small laugh. ‘All I hope is that it’s more than just sex this time around—because there is no way I am repackaging a billion truffles again in this lifetime.’
‘Amen to that,’ Gina said, toasting Marnie with her coffee mug and smiling at the memory of how the four of them had spent two solid hours taking table-top truffles out of engagement-ring-style boxes when Reese had decided to reinvent her aborted wedding to Dylan into a celebration of... Well, no one had ever really figured that out.
‘To be frank,’ Gina added, ‘if I ever see another truffle before I die, it’ll be too soon.’
Marnie’s lips curved, but Gina could see the concern in her pure blue eyes—and had the sudden realisation that she hadn’t given Marnie her due in the last month.
Seemed they’d both done quite a lot of growing up in the last decade.
After ordering herself an iced tea and some wheat toast from the blushing waiter, Marnie got right down to business, tugging a smartphone out of her briefcase. ‘Okay, I’ve narrowed a couple of possible venues down that can accommodate a party of seven on the required date, can provide a wedding cake and meet our “classy but not too intimidating” requirements.’ She pressed a few buttons, her gaze flicking to Gina. ‘My personal favourite is the Tribeca Terrace. Do you know it?’
Gina nodded. ‘Sure, chic and funky with sensational food and a dance floor—so Cassie and Tuck can get up close and pornographic for our benefit.’
Marnie’s lips quirked again. ‘It’s pricey, but totally worth it.’
‘Done.’
Marnie blinked. ‘What do you mean, done? We haven’t gone through the other options.... And don’t you have any venues you want to put forward?’
‘I had a couple.’ Gina shrugged. ‘But none of them are as perfect as the TriBee,’ she said, giving it the nickname it had acquired in the foodie press. ‘You nailed it in one. Why shop around?’
The waiter arrived with Marnie’s toast and tea and made a bit of a production about asking Gina if she had everything she needed. As he left Gina noticed Marnie’s gaze follow him, before she concentrated on buttering her toast. There was no censure in the look, just a simple acknowledgement. But Gina could still hear the words running through Marnie’s head even if the well-mannered woman would rather bite off her own tongue than voice them.
There goes another of Gina’s conquests.
Ten years ago, Gina would have played up to that assessment and enjoyed it—and quite probably taken full advantage of whatever the young waiter had to offer. But not any more.
Placing her coffee mug back on the table, she waited for Marnie to stop buttering. When the bright blue eyes finally met hers, she could see the tension around the edges of Marnie’s mouth and realised that—while she still had a low-grade urge to throttle Reese—their mutual friend had been right. They needed to get this out in the open, if they were going to have any chance of getting past it and repairing the friendship between the four of them the rest of the way.
Marnie and her would never be best friends, Gina had already screwed that up for good, but surely they could be more than just civil to each other. A bit more warmth between the two of them would also take the pressure off the other two—and as both Reese and Cassie had weddings coming up, she couldn’t think of a better gift to give them both.
‘I’m sure we both know why Reese didn’t show this morning,’ she said evenly. ‘And for once I’m not convinced it has anything to do with her inability to leave Mason’s bed first thing in the morning while he’s still in it.’
Marnie’s eyes widened a fraction. She raised her napkin to her mouth to remove an invisible crumb. ‘Reese has always been a peace-maker.’
She put the napkin
