Move the Stars (Something in the Way 3)

“I’m on break from a double shift.” Val untied the waist apron she wore to wait tables at a chain restaurant in midtown. She blew by me, unbuttoning her starchy blouse. “Some brat threw a fucking bowl of mac and cheese at me.” Pinching the shirt by its collar, she made a face and dumped it into a hamper in the corner. “That shit is hot and yellow and—don’t you work tonight?”

Part of me wanted to tell her about my visit from the past, but the other part knew better. “I called in sick,” I said as she flurried around me.

“Yeah? Why?” She ran into the bathroom where her back-up uniform hung on the shower curtain bar. “Fuck. Of course it’s still damp.” She pulled it down, slipping it over her shoulders as she went to the mirror. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Buttoning up the blouse, she glanced at me in the reflection, then turned. “Holy shit. You’re wearing the CK dress! You look amazing.”

I smoothed my hands over my stomach. “Really?”

“Where are you headed dressed like that? One of Corbin’s functions?”

“I’m going to see a show, actually.” I left it at that and ducked around her to grab my hairbrush. When she didn’t respond, I continued, “I’m overdressed, but who knows when I’ll get a chance to wear this again?”

“Are you going with Corbin?” she asked.

“No.” I combed my hair, avoiding her eyes.

“Who then?”

Val was the only person who knew the whole truth about Manning and me. She wouldn’t like that I was seeing him tonight, but I didn’t want to lie to my best friend. After all she’d done for me since we’d moved here, I owed her the truth. “You remember Manning?”

She didn’t respond. I didn’t have to see Val’s face to know her reaction. Warmth crept up my neck as she made me stand there in silence that grew louder and louder.

“Hmm, Manning,” she said finally. “I think so. If you’re talking about the sorry, cowardly piece of shit who broke your heart . . . then yes, I recall.”

I set the hairbrush down. “That was years ago.”

“I remember. I was there as you basically fell apart at his wedding—to your sister. As you cried yourself to sleep every night for—I don’t even know how long. Maybe you still do. I was there when I spent my first Christmas away from my mom so you wouldn’t be alone during the holidays.”

“I know. I get it.” I turned and braced myself against the sink. “It’s not what it looks like. He’s in town for work, and my mom bought us tickets to—”

She grabbed my shoulders, stunning me into silence. “What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m going to see a Broadway show, it’s not a big deal,” I shot back, wiggling free from her grip to leave the bathroom.

“How can it not be a big deal? How did this even happen?” She followed me to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway, her shirt cockeyed and exposing her navel because she’d missed a button. “Who does he think he is, calling you out of the blue?”

“He came by this morning.”

“And you slammed the door in his face, right?” she asked. “Is that why the lock is fucked up?”

I found my stilettos where I’d dropped them earlier and sat on the edge of the bed to buckle the straps. “It’s just dinner and a show. That’s it.”

“Dinner? Are you insane, Lake?”

“Stop yelling at me.”

“No.”

The sharpness of the word forced me to look up at her. Her face, beet red, didn’t distract me from the sheen over her eyes. She barely knew Manning, and she was the one crying? “How could he do this again?” she asked.

I was tempted to defend Manning, and that was proof Val was right. He’d already begun to get to me. It wasn’t fair to myself, or to her, either—she’d been by my side since the night on the beach I’d told her I had feelings for my sister’s fiancé. “I know,” I said. “I turned him down at first, but then I changed my mind. I already agreed.”

“Because he knows you can’t say no to him. He knows how badly he hurt you, yet he has the balls to show his face here. He’s an asshole and a coward. A felon, a liar, and maybe even a cheat.” She put her hands on her hips. “If he shows up here, I’ll call Corbin to come take care of this.”

“Corbin already knows.”

“He knows you’re going out with Manning? That you’re getting all dolled up for him?”

“No.” My face burned hot with embarrassment that I’d gotten caught wanting to look nice for him. “Corbin knows Manning’s in town, and this is normal attire for Broadway—”

“Don’t give me that shit. You’re dressing up for him because you’re still in love with him.”