“A respectable man pat on the back is totally different than that eardrum bursting squeal you girls do.” Brent made himself comfortable in my dad’s armchair and motioned with his hands to continue our reunion. “Carry on. Don’t let me put a damper on your fun.”
Our hug ended and I stepped back so I could I inspect Cherie. She looked fantastic, back to her old self, the pre-breakup with Steve version of Cherie.
“You’re looking good.”
“Don’t I always?” She struck a dramatic pose for half a second before bursting out laughing.
“Well, yeah, but you’re looking much better than the last time I saw you and way better than the time before that.”
“I’m also feeling more myself now.” She dropped her eyes to her feet. “There is something I actually wanted to tell you.”
“Yara.” I glanced at a slightly panicked Brent who was clutching his phone. He tilted his head toward the kitchen. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” I squeezed Cherie’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”
“I always do.” She kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the leather sectional.
“What’s going on?” I asked Brent. He pulled me out of the view of the living room.
“We’ve got to get her out of here.”
My eyebrows rose. “Why?”
“Steve just texted me. I totally forgot I invited him over for video games the first morning we were back.”
“Why is he meeting you here?”
“I’m sorry, I should have cleared it with you, but my mom’s all into the two of us being alone and bonding, and once Steve and I start a game we can play for hours.”
“Great. This could get awkward fast.” Back in high school the four of us hanging out would have been a perfect night, but with Cherie and Steve’s breakup, it sounded like a very bad idea. “Tell him not to come. I can’t believe you invited him over after the way he broke her heart.”
“I can’t just cancel on him.” Brent pinched the bridge of his nose before rapidly creating a text message. “And I don’t want to fight about their break up again. I’m sorry he hurt her but you know he had his reasons and we agreed we’d stay neutral on this.”
Reasons, I silently scoffed. Steve’s worry that they were getting too serious too young made sense in a way, but saying they needed to date other people had really gutted Cherie.
I put my hand on Brent’s cheek. “It’s hard to forget the look she had on her face when she blew off a whole week of school and flew down to see me. She was devastated.”
“Yeah, but it’s been almost two years. Look at her; she’s back to normal.”
“True.”
He put his hand over mine. “And they’re still our best friends. They’re going to run into each other from time to time. They have to get used to it.”
“But not tonight. It’s too soon. We just got back.”
Brent dialed Steve’s number. “It went straight to voicemail.”
The doorbell rang and I blanched. “You don’t think that’s Steve, do you?”
Brent nodded and snapped his phone shut and we both sprinted to the living room.
“I’ve got it,” Cherie called. Before I could prep her in any way, she threw the door open. I came to an abrupt halt and braced myself for the drama. I was prepared for Cherie and Steve to have an uncomfortable moment, or maybe an angry exchange of words, and maybe even for Cherie to burst into tears. I was not prepared for my best friend kissing her ex-boyfriend.
“Hey, stranger I didn’t know you were coming over,” Steve said between kisses. Eventually he wrapped his arms around her waist and greeted Brent and I. “How great is it to have the four of us together again, huh?”
Brent and I both froze, shared a look that screamed “WHAT?” and then turned toward our best friends with slack jaws.
“Cherie, I thought I was your best friend,” I teased, enjoying turning her previous accusations back on her.
She gave me a guilty smile from the confines of Steve’s arms. “You are.”
“Then why did you not tell me that you and Steve were back together? Why did I have to learn about it by seeing you two smooching at my house?”
“We wanted to make sure it would keep before we told anyone.”
Brent crossed his arms. “How long has this been going on?”
Steve grinned at us. “We each spent a lousy year and a half trying to date other people. We ended up running into each other at a diner at two in the morning during midterms. I knew I’d made a mistake of epic proportions. There wasn’t another girl out there like Cherie.”
She rubbed her head against his chest. “And no guy I went out with was near as good as Steve.”
“I knew I’d blown it, so I begged her to let me take her out.”
Cherie laughed. “I said, ‘No.’”
“I was crushed.” Steve closed his eyes. “But I was also persistent.”
Cherie’s smile could only be described as dreamy. “It was like old times. Within a month we were dating again.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s great. You still haven’t answered the original question. How long ago have you been back together?”
“Three months.” Cherie tucked her thumb into the belt loop on Steve’s jeans. “I planned on telling you tonight.”
My hands went to my hips. “Three months? And you never told us?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Brent snaked his arm around my waist. “What matters is that our friends are back together.”
Brent was right. I shouldn’t waste time being upset that Cherie hadn’t told me before now. This was fantastic news!
“Congrats.” Brent slapped Steve on the back and Cherie and I hugged again.
“So now our secret is out of the way. “ Cherie settled onto the couch beside Steve. “What brings you guys back?”
I caught them up on the past few weeks. Cherie’s face steadily lost color.
“Crosby is sending ghosts to kill you.” She pulled her knees to her chest. “How can I be of any help this time. I can’t see ghosts. My research won’t—”
“There is plenty of research,” I cut in. “I want your help like always, but only with research. I don’t want you or Steve involved in any of the physical part of this.”
“Do you know me at all?” Cherie asked, giving me a challenging look. “That isn’t going to happen.”
“Crosby’s already tried to kill me and he succeeded with DJ and Amy and who knows how many other people. This isn’t a game.”
“That’s why I’m not okay with you going into this alone.”
“This is what I do,” I said.
She held up her hand. “No. Being a Waker means you help spirits find peace. There’s nothing in the job description about fighting against crazy, power hungry men.”
I shook my head. “I just don’t want to put you in danger.”
Cherie raised her eyebrow. “But you’re willing to put Brent there.”
“She can’t keep me out of it.” Brent pulled me closer so my back rested against his chest. “We’re a package deal.”
Steve covered Cherie’s mouth with his hand. “Enough about what we can’t do. Tell us what we can we do?”
“We need to find out everything we can about Crosby.”
“I’m on it,” Cherie said around Steve’s hand, her eyes gleaming. “But if I’m in, I’m in. You need people you can rely on.”
I wanted to argue but knew I’d be wasting my breath. She could be every bit as stubborn as me. Not to mention, she was right. I needed people I could rely on. I could count on my fingers the number of people I truly trusted to help me with this. My resolve faded fast, even though I didn’t want to endanger anyone else I cared about. I couldn’t do it alone. I never had in the past and I couldn’t now.
“Promise me you’ll be careful.”
Steve’s hand dropped away and Cherie flashed me a triumphant grin. “I promise.”
Cherie tapped her keyboard before letting out a dramatic sigh. “There is nothing about Crosby that isn’t positive. Every single article talks about what a great guy he is.”
“That’s all I could find too.” I leaned over her shoulder, reading the screen. “But there were rumors about him before he worked at Pendrell. And the detectives were going to keep an eye on him. They wanted to prove he murdered Bryan Pendrell.”
Cherie rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “It isn’t normal. Every politician has something bad written about him somewhere. Someone who doesn’t agree with his politics or something.”
I traced my finger across the dents in the wood of the kitchen table. “Remember that gag he put on the Clutch? Even when they all turned on each other, not a single person had anything but kind words about him. They all swore he wasn’t involved.”
“Right.” Cherie sat up straight and started braiding her hair. “Maybe it’s something like that. Only the supernatural could explain the lack of dirt on him.”
I kicked out my feet and set them on the chair across from me. “So where does that leave us?”
She tied the bottom of her braid into a knot in lieu of a rubber band. “It means the only way to learn more is to observe him for ourselves.”
I scrolled through the websites Cherie had been reading, shaking my head. “That sounds like a really bad idea.”
“Yeah, but I can’t think of any other options. It’s not like we’re going to confront him. We can follow him home, see where he spends his time, check out his security—that sort of thing.”
“How?”
“A stakeout.” Cherie grinned and it reminded me so much of when we were little and she was planning one of her crazy adventures. “We haven’t done one of those before.”
Her idea had merit, but at the same time . . .
“I was serious about not wanting you to get hurt. This is life-and-death-level dangerous.”
“I told you, I’m all in. I know the risks, which is why we’ll need disguises and a rental car, maybe—”
I reached out and hugged Cherie tight. I was so glad to have her with me.
“As fun as that sounds . . .” I said, bringing reality back into our plans.
“Oh, fine. Spoilsport.” Cherie spun her laptop so it faced her. “So, we keep digging. Eventually we’ll find the lead we need. I’ll keep looking.”
A week had gone by and we still hadn’t discovered much about Crosby. His campaign calendar didn’t list any public events and we hadn’t heard from DJ or the council.
When the night of our dinner with Brent’s mother arrived, I’d moved beyond nerves into a numb state of acceptance. I would be breaking bread with a woman who hated me and blamed me for all the wrongs in her life.
I pulled up in front of his mom’s place and shut off the car. His parents had sold their large home during the divorce and his mother had relocated to a cute townhouse.
I double-checked my image in the rear view mirror and smiled. The new, super strength anti-frizz serum helped manage the otherworldly static in my hair.
After taking a deep breath, I grabbed the pie I’d made and forced myself up the cement stairs. I wore a long sleeved blouse this time to help hide my bruises, and several chokers made the ones on my neck less noticeable. I shifted the pie to my left hand, put on the bravest smile I could muster, and knocked on the blue door. A breeze stirred the air and rustled through the birds of paradise that lined the steps.
Brent’s mom opened the door, looking as sleek as I remembered. With her blonde hair pulled back into a French twist and few wisps of hair framing her face, she looked too young to have a son Brent’s age. Her brown eyes had a layer of frost over them, contrasting with the welcoming smile on her lips.
“Yara, you’re here early.”
She somehow managed to make that sound like an insult. I fought the urge to back away and leave. Brent’s face appeared over his mom’s shoulder and strengthened my waning courage.
Brent nudged her aside and grabbed my free hand, pulling me over the threshold. “Early? For Yara, this is late. I was starting to get worried.”
Brent stepped around her and gave me a kiss, smiling down at me. His mother’s smile widened, but it still didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
“Thank you for inviting me . . .” I hesitated. I wasn’t sure what to call her. Did she still go by Mrs. or since she was divorced was she a Ms.? Was she going by her maiden name? What was it? I don’t know if Brent had ever mentioned it.
Her eyes hardened even more. “Call me Katie.”
I handed her the apple pie. “This is for you.”
“How nice.” Her smile said she didn’t mean it.
She carried the pie to the kitchen and Brent and I followed. We passed through a living room decorated in white and red. A large picture of her and Brent hung above the gas fireplace in a gilded frame.
She set the pie on the cupboard before turning to stir the sauce in the pot on the stove.
“Can I help?” I asked.
“No, thank you. Why don’t you just sit down and relax while Brent finishes setting the table? All we need are the glasses, Brent.”
Brent pulled three from the cupboard and handed one to me. We carried them to the dining room. Brent studied the table then called over his shoulder, “Mom, why are there five places?”
“I invited a few people over.”
“Who?” Brent set the glasses down before returning to the kitchen for two more.
“Heather and Sean Collins.”
Brent’s eyebrows drew together as he came back to the table. “Why?”
“Charles and Sabrina are on a cruise and Heather and Sean are home from college for the summer. It seemed a shame to leave those kids at home alone. You were all such good friends.”
“Perfect,” he mumbled, placing the last two glasses next to the extra two plates.
Brent dropped onto one of the cherry wood chairs and pulled me onto his lap. He nuzzled along my neck. “I’ve missed you. I hate that mom lives so far from you.”
“Brazil spoiled me. I loved having you so close.”
He kissed my shoulder before dropping his chin onto the spot. “I’m so sorry. She did this on purpose.”
“Did what?”
“You know I love you, right?”
My eyes narrowed. “Yes, but I have a feeling I am going to hate whatever you’re about to tell me.”
“Heather’s my old girlfriend.”
“Oh.” My eyes darted toward his mother who was setting a basket of bread on the table. “I thought you didn’t have an actual girlfriend before me. Just girls you dated.”
The tips of his ears turned a bright shade of red. “I didn’t, but she was the girl I dated the most.”
I knew I didn’t have to worry about anything, but I couldn’t completely squash the jealousy that snaked through my stomach. It didn’t last long, though. The bitterness that Katie would stoop this low took over fast. This ploy was just to make me uncomfortable. And maybe to make her son realize he’d made a mistake by picking me.
I put my hand on his arm. “Brent, it’s okay. I’m not mad. Not at you, anyway.”
“I didn’t think it was possible to love you anymore than I did.” He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose.
When he made comments like that, it still made my insides soften.
They arrived a few minutes later and I got to meet Heather. She was a beautiful girl with long auburn hair and a Victoria’s Secret model’s body. Katie really played dirty.
Heather gave Brent a quick friendly hug and turned to me. “Hi, I’m Heather. This is my brother, Sean.”
Sean was cute, with blue eyes and thick, black hair, but not cute enough for me to take a second look or loosen my hold on Brent’s hand.
“I’m Yara, Brent’s girlfriend.”
The corner of Heather’s mouth quirked up. “Girlfriend? Brent is finally cal
ling someone his girlfriend?”
“Heather,” Sean said with disapproval.
Heather grinned. “What? Brent was scared to death of labels and commitment back when I knew him.”
“Not anymore.” Brent draped his arm over my shoulder. “We’ve been together more than four years.”
I watched Heather’s every move and expression, looking for any sign of cattiness or jealousy, but there wasn’t any. Whatever her feelings for Brent had been, she felt nothing but friendship now. I liked her.
“I’m impressed, Yara,” she said. “You need to help me keep Clendon on the hook for that long. He’s in Colorado until school starts. I wish you could’ve met him.”
The scowl on Katie’s face when Heather mentioned her boyfriend made me smile. Katie contributed very little to the conversation at dinner and her stiffness never lifted. After dinner, Heather and Sean left and Brent and I sat down on the uncomfortable white couches in his mom’s living room.
“What’s wrong, Mom.” Brent expression was stormy. “Didn’t realize Heather had a boyfriend?”
Her lips pursed like she’d sucked on a lime. “It was too much to hope that a girl like that would be single after all these years.”
Brent stiffened. “Are you serious? Did you expect me to break up with the girl I love because I sit across the dinner table from Heather? What kind of person do you think I am?”
Katie paled and I looked away. My chest burned as I listened to this private argument about me, but I wouldn’t leave Brent to stand up to his mother alone. He was fighting for us and I would do no less.
Katie slid forward in her seat. “Brent, I didn’t want—”
“Me to grow up? Me to make my own decisions?” He shot to his feet, pulling me up with him. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m done trying to play by your rules. I’m staying with Steve.”
“What?” Katie stood and stepped toward us, but Brent backed away, pulling me behind him. “Honey, don’t—”
“No. You had your chance. You had plenty of chances. Take the trust fund away if you want. I don’t care.” He shook his head, his entire body tense. I felt the tremble in his hand, though, and squeezed it tight to let him know I was here. “You want me to choose sides? Done. I pick Yara.”
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