It had been ten days since that horrible morning when Harrison had received that damning audio clip from Everly.
As London filled her in, Maribelle’s expression underwent several transformations from shock to dismay and finally irritation, but she didn’t interrupt until London’s story wound to its bitter finish.
“He’s never going to speak to me again,” London said, putting the final nail in the coffin that held the most amazing romance of her life.
“And well he shouldn’t.” Maribelle scowled. “I’m a little tempted never to speak to you again, either.”
Knowing her friend didn’t really mean that, London sat in rebuked silence while Maribelle signaled the bartender and ordered two shots of tequila.
“You know I can’t drink that,” London protested as the shots were delivered along with salt and limes. “Remember what happened the last time.”
“I do and you are going to drink it until you’re drunk enough to call Harrison and tell him the whole story, after which you’re going to beg for his forgiveness. And then I’m going to take you home and hold your hair while you throw up.” Maribelle handed her the shot. “Because that’s what best friends do.”
“I love you,” London murmured, nearly blind from the grateful tears gathering in her eyes.
“I know. Now drink.”
It took two shots in close succession and twenty minutes for London’s dread to unravel. Two more and an hour before London found enough confidence to do the right thing.
“I’m going to regret this in the morning,” London muttered, picking her phone up off the bar. The roiling in her stomach had nothing to do with the tequila she’d consumed. Yet.
“I know.” Maribelle’s voice was sympathetic, but she maintained the steely demeanor of a drill sergeant. “Now call.”
Beneath Maribelle’s watchful eye, London unlocked her phone and pulled up Harrison’s contact information. With her heart trying to hammer its way out of her chest, she tapped on his name. As his handsome face lit up her screen, she almost chickened out. Maribelle must have sensed this because she made the same chastising sound she used to correct the new puppy she and Beau had just adopted.
London put the phone to her ear and reminded herself to breathe. Facing Harrison after what she’d done to him ranked as the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. But she owed him the full truth and so much more.
“I didn’t think I’d hear from you again.”
She almost burst into ugly sobs as his deep voice filled her ear and suddenly her throat was too tight for her to speak.
“Hello? London, are you there?” He paused. “Or have you butt-dialed me while you’re out having a good time? It sounds like you’re at a party.”
Someone behind her had a rowdy laugh that blasted through the bar right on cue.
“I’m not having fun.” Not one bit. I miss you. “I have things to tell you. Can I come over so I can explain some things to you?”
He remained silent for so long, she expected him to turn her down.
“I’m home now.”
“I can’t tonight,” she said, glancing at the line of empty shot glasses. “Tonight, I’m going to be very, very sick.”
Again he paused before answering. “Tomorrow afternoon, then?”
“At two?”
“At two.”
The line went dead and London clapped her hand over her mouth before making a beeline for the bathroom.
* * *
At a little after two the following afternoon, Harrison opened the door to his penthouse unit and immediately cursed the way his heart clenched at the sight of London. From her red-rimmed eyes to her pale skin and lopsided topknot, she looked as miserable as he felt.
To his dismay, instead of venting his irritation, his first impulse was to haul her into the foyer and wrap her in his arms. Her gaze clung to him as he stepped back and gestured her inside.
Due to the turn in the weather, she’d dressed in jeans, soft suede boots and a bulky sweater in sage green. From her pink cheeks and windblown hair, he suspected she’d walked over from her building along the waterside thoroughfare that ran beside the Cooper River.