silver Closed plaque from the door and carefully hanging it over the doorbell.
Brooke silently cheered. If girl time, plentiful chocolate, and pretty pink hearts didn’t call for wine, she didn’t know what did.
“I’m thinking champagne,” Jessie said, coming back with a bottle and four flutes. “The cheap stuff, so don’t freak, Alexis.”
Alexis scoffed. “I never freak.”
“’Tis true,” Heather said, flopping back onto a white love seat and patting the spot next to her for Brooke to come join. “I mean, I maybe saw her almost freak once when she found out that a bride was having an affair with the groom’s father and wanted to announce it at the rehearsal dinner, but even then she didn’t have a hair out of place.”
“Of course not,” Alexis said primly, sitting in a chair and smoothing a hand over her dove-gray slacks as she accepted a glass of champagne from Jessie. “Because I’m not a complete heathen.”
It was said jokingly, but as Brooke studied her boss in all her put-together glory, she realized that Heather was right. Alexis wasn’t just cool under pressure; she was downright rigid at times. Not in the cold, emotionless kind of way; it was just that the woman seemed to operate 100 percent from her head, and almost zero percent from her heart.
Brooke, on the other hand, was a bundle of messy emotions.
Always had been, probably always would be.
But only the happy emotions. That was very important. If one was going to wear one’s heart on her sleeve, as Brooke tried to, it was important to keep sadness and anger at bay, giving in only to the giddy, good stuff in life.
It was how she survived.
Once all the women had champagne in hand, Jessie lifted a glass. “To Valentine’s Day.”
“Which isn’t for another week,” Heather argued. “Plus, no way am I toasting to that. It’s not even a real holiday.”
Jessie rolled her eyes. “Well, what would you toast to?”
Heather slid a sly glance toward Brooke. “How about to the newest addition to the Wedding Belles?”
“We’ve already toasted to me,” Brooke said. “That first lunch at MOMA when you took me under your collective wing and were just . . . wonderful.”
“Okay, don’t get weepy,” Heather said. “And I was thinking more like toasting to your new man.”
“Oh, it’s a little early for that,” Brooke rushed to say. “We’re just . . . playing.”
Alexis caught her eye and winked before lifting her glass. “Okay, then. To playing.”
They all clinked glasses and took a sip of the delicious bubbly. It might have been “the cheap stuff” by Alexis’s shopping standards, but it was still darn yummy.
“So things are going well, then?” Alexis asked. “With you and Seth?”
“I guess so,” Brooke said, running a fingernail over the stem of her glass. “I mean, he’s not sending me texts by the hour confessing his love or anything, but we do dinner a couple times a week. Sometimes to discuss Maya’s wedding stuff, sometimes not, and it’s . . . I don’t know. It’s nice.”
“Old-fashioned dating,” Heather said wistfully. “God, I miss that.”
“Do you think it’s too soon?” Brooke blurted out.
All three women looked at her in surprise. “Too soon for what?”
Brooke twisted a lock of hair around her finger anxiously. “You know, to be seeing someone. I just got out of an engagement a few months ago, and I’ve only known Seth for a few weeks. I feel like I’m supposed to take time to heal, or something.”
“If you feel ready, then you’re ready,” Jessie said confidently.
Brooke noticed that Alexis avoided her gaze and didn’t chime in, and she sat up straighter, pointing at her friend. “There. That. What is that?”
“What is what?” Alexis said, still not meeting her eyes.
“You think it’s too soon!” Brooke accused. “You think I was supposed to wait longer to recover from Clay.”
Alexis rolled her eyes, finally glancing at Brooke. “Not true. I’m the one who encouraged you to go to Seth that first night, remember?”
“Oh. That’s true,” Brooke mused. “So what was with the Thinking Face?”
“Uh-oh,” Heather said. “Alexis’s Thinking Face is never a good thing.”
“I don’t have a thinking face,” Alexis said. “I just . . . I am happy for you, Brooke, of course. And I don’t believe that there’s any minimum amount of time required for the heart to heal. But—”
Brooke sighed. “I knew there was going to be a but.”
“I just want to make sure that you’ve let yourself heal,” Alexis finished, her voice gentle.
“Of course I have,” Brooke said automatically. “That’s