“You know Faith and Arabel, and of course you’ve met Corey,” Lola said. I could tell she was tipsy already. And yes, I had met Corey already. Three times now, and she knew that too.
I wished that number was higher. I thought I’d see him around the mansion more often since Lola and I were hanging out more, but normally when it was time for Corey to come home—he left off work around seven thirty every night—Lola was making some excuse, pretty much telling me I had to go before he arrived.
If I hadn’t known any better, Marriott, I would have thought she was threatened by me when Corey was around. Or maybe they truly did have plans. They were rich, after all, with lots of money to burn.
“Nice to see you again, Ivy.” Corey came closer to me, extending his arm and offering me a hand.
I took it. Shook it. Smiled. As our hands connected, I remembered his fingers kneading my breasts after I recovered from surgery. He had soft hands. He took care of them. “Nice to see you too, Dr. Maxwell.”
“No, no. None of that.” He chuckled. “Just call me Corey.”
I kept myself together. Couldn’t flirt in front of my new bestie, right? Especially not with her husband. “Okay, Corey it is, then.”
“So, dinner should be ready in about ten minutes,” Lola said when I faced her again. “Georgia and the crew are taking care of some final touches. Come join us for a drink while we wait.” Lola led me to the island counter and poured some champagne into a flute for me.
Accepting the drink, I took a sip and felt eyes on me as I swallowed. I had hoped it was Corey, but it wasn’t. It was Faith. I gave her a smile as I lowered my flute. She exchanged a smile, but it was definitely not genuine.
For a while the women chatted back and forth, and Corey stood on the sidelines, eyes bouncing back and forth between each woman who spoke, casually sipping his champagne. I did the same, mostly because I had no clue what these women were even talking about.
“You can’t tell me you two don’t want to at least try again,” Arabel said, looking between Corey and Lola. I perked up. Wait . . . when did we get on the topic of trying again?
“Well, we’ve considered it before, but honestly, we’re too high up there in age now, Arabel. It would cause complications, and I’m just not sure if I want that risk again.”
“Aw, I understand,” Arabel cooed.
“Not only that,” Corey chimed in, “but Lola’s career is doing great. A baby would interrupt all that. She’s thriving and she’s told me herself that it’s best if we adopt instead if it comes down to it. Trying again may result in more heartbreak, and we want to avoid that if we can.” Corey sighed. “Sacrifices.”
“Yes, exactly, honey.” Lola lifted her glass to her husband and tilted it toward him. He did the same and they both sipped.
I didn’t understand this whole charade they were putting on. Lola wanted to try again. Corey didn’t. She’d never flat out told me that, but I could read between the lines. She always went on about, We have our careers to think about now, and It’s better this way. Last thing I want is another scare. And by scare, she meant a miscarriage. I could understand that, but I knew the maternal part of her wanted to try again, just to see if things would work out, but Corey must have told her it wasn’t wise. It was okay if Corey didn’t want kids. I could live with that.
“So, Ivy, Lola tells me that you plan on quitting your job to work for the Ladies with Passion charity full-time soon?” Faith said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“I am, yeah. I’ve already put in my two-week notice. I’m finishing there, and then I’ll be on my way to becoming a Lady with Passion.” Oh right. I forgot to tell you about that, Marriott. During one of our lunch dates, Lola told me that she was opening a new position at the office for the charity. The job would be similar to Noah and Olivia’s. It was for a creative consultant. She’d practically handed me the job, so I took it. The pay was higher, and the schedule was way more flexible. I was moving on up.
“That’s nice. I think it’s so great that Lola created jobs within the charity. And you’ll be working at the office with Noah and Olivia, who have been there for about five years now?”
“Yes.” Her tone seemed accusatory. I wasn’t sure what she was getting at.
“Stop it, Faith,” Arabel chortled.
What the fuck was so funny?
“Stop what? I’m only asking questions,” Faith said with a smug smile.