“My place, actually. I need privacy.”
Angie’s hand stiffened under Amber’s ministrations. “Amber? What on earth is going on?”
Amber looked down, unable to meet her friend’s gaze. Would Angie believe her? Would she understand? Angie had her own skeletons, so she was Amber’s safest bet. Catie was busy with the new baby, and Judy was her boss, for goodness’ sake. She wasn’t that close to anyone else yet, at least not enough to trust with this. “I’ll tell you tonight. God, I really need to talk to someone.”
“Okay. Tonight at your place. You’re obviously distraught. I’ll get take out from the Blue Bird and bring it over. Say six?”
“Six thirty.”
* * *
“No offense, Amber, but you look like hell.”
Amber held her door open and Angie walked in, carrying a takeout bag from the Blue Bird and a bottle of wine. “Good to see you too, Ang.”
Angie made herself at home in Amber’s small abode, setting food on the table and grabbing two plates out of the cupboard. “Come on and sit. There’s obviously something you need to spill. Where’s your corkscrew?”
“Top drawer.” Amber plunked down at the table and thunked her head on the hard surface. “God, where to start?”
A soft pop met her ears—the wine cork.
“I can’t hear you when you’re talking into the table, hon.”
She lifted her head and sighed.
“So does this have to do with my brother?” Angie poured two glasses of wine.
Harper? He was the least of her worries, except he’d want nothing to do with her when he found out the other issues she was dealing with. Amber shook her head. “No. I mean, not really.”
“Seems you two are getting along pretty well.”
“We are. I’m surprised, to be honest.”
Angie laughed. “So is he. Never in a million years did he think you were his type.”
So she’d heard. “Have you talked to him about us?”
“Not really. He just said he likes you a lot and he’s looking forward to seeing where it goes.”
She nodded. She felt the same. He knew more about her than she’d let on to anyone so far in Bakersville, and he wasn’t judging her. Course the relationship wouldn’t go much further if she couldn’t keep Blake Buchanan at bay.
Stripping at Rachel’s was one thing. Pornographic photos on the net were something else entirely.
“I like him too.” She sighed. “A lot.” Big understatement.
Angie took a sip of wine and began to take the cartons out of the Blue Bird sack. “So what’s the problem then?”
“With Harper? There is none.” At least not yet.
“Okay. What else is going on? There’s a new guy in your life. You should be shining like the sun. Instead you look like you’ve been reincarnated as a rag.”
She couldn’t crack a smile. “Damn, Angie. You cut right to the chase, don’t you?”
“I try.”
Amber let out a controlled breath. Here goes nothing. “I haven’t told you much about my life in San Antonio.”
“No, you haven’t. Every time I’ve asked you’ve changed the subject.”