She wished she were back in Cole’s office. She had finally seen a side of him she hadn’t expected. He wasn’t hiding in that office. If anything, he was sharing with his clients. He was sharing his hopes and his disappointments.
And she couldn’t get those framed prints out of her mind. They didn’t reflect how she saw Cole—a cynical loner who hid in the shadows. Those pictures represented a positive, almost innocent, time. They obviously meant something to him.
Angie wished she knew more about his life. All this time she had assumed he had been orphaned as a teenager. She had made this conclusion by the few things he said about his childhood and his clear enjoyment of being surrounded by her relatives. She figured he missed having a mother. She assumed he longed for a family. Now she realized that she had been completely wrong about him.
It was a startling feeling. It felt like her world had shifted. The man she loved was someone else entirely. Or was he? He didn’t have contact with his family and the way he acted with her family was genuine. Maybe these clues would give her a better understanding about Cole.
“You look very serious,” Robin complained, disrupting her thoughts. “Have another sip of champagne.”
“No, thanks.” Angie stared at the bright pink polish applied to her toenails. It almost hurt to look at and she was sure it would clash violently against the bile-green bridesmaid dress. “Where have I seen this color?” she asked.
“Definitely not in nature,” Robin muttered and shared a smile with her.
Angie snapped her fingers. “Oh, now I remember. It was that drink at the bachelorette party. The psychedelic pink one.”
“The Britini,” Cheryl said without looking up from tapping the keypad on her phone. “It was made in honor for Brittany’s special day.”
“I didn’t get a chance to try it,” Angie said. It didn’t sound like her kind of drink, anyway. She didn’t drink anything that pink on principle. “What does it taste like?”
“It was a martini made with bubble-gum-infused vodka,” Cheryl informed her. “It was a hit at the party.”
Angie pursed her lips. “Seriously?”
“They’ll have it available during the rehearsal dinner and wedding reception,” Cheryl said as she stood up to speak privately on the phone. “You should give it a try.”
“Does it really taste like bubble gum?” Angie asked Robin.
“Yes, it’s very sweet,” Robin confessed in a whisper and looked over to where Brittany was getting her nails done. “But it wasn’t a popular drink. Cheryl kept trying to get people to order it because it’s named after Brittany.”
Heidi probably ordered the drink to please Brittany. She had noticed a bright pink stain when they put Heidi in the recovery position.
“So, how’s it going with the stripper?” Robin asked, wagging her eyebrows.
“Stripper?” Oh, right. Cole was supposed to be a stripper. She almost forgot that was how the bridal party met him. She wanted to tell Patrick and her friends what Cole was really doing. That he had been investigating Heidi and needed to know if someone intentionally hurt her. He was determined to find out if it had something to do with her troubled past or if she were in trouble now.
Angie wanted everyone to know that he was using his skills to help others. That he was an honorable and dependable family guy. He was still the man she fell in love with. “His name is Cole. Cole Foster.”
“It sounds like it’s more than a one-night stand,” Brittany called over from where she sat getting her nails done. “I saw them this morning at Starbucks.”
“I knew him before the bachelorette party,” Angie was quick to clarify. “He’s an ex-boyfriend.”
Robin leaned back and studied Angie, from her messy ponytail to her tank top and yoga pants. “Yeah, about that. What’s his deal?”
Angie frowned. “His deal?”
Robin gestured at her. “Is he into muscular women?”
“Does he have a sports-bra fetish?” Brittany asked with a sly smile.
Angie clenched her jaw. This was why she couldn’t wait for her bridesmaid duties to be over. She could do without the sharp remarks. Just when she thought she was finding common ground with these women, they put her down with a zinger or two. “Is it so strange that he finds me attractive?”
Robin drew back as if she weren’t prepared for a pointed question. “Well...no,” she said, “but did you get a good look at him? He could have anyone.”