‘He’ll be fine.’
I shook my head. ‘I’ll worry about him all night. You mind if I keep my phone on me?’
Joss’s brow puckered in consternation. ‘Of course not. But you know what the solution to that is, right?’
‘A fairy godmother?’
‘Yes.’ Her mouth tilted up on one side. ‘Except instead of a fairy godmother, he’s a suit-wearing fairy caveman.’
I didn’t get it.
‘Braden! He’s offered you a job so many times, Jo. Part-time or full-time. Just take it. If you took a full-time position, you’d be working during the day so you wouldn’t have to worry about working nights away from Cole.’
I tried to feel only gratitude as I strode past her and into the bar and tried very hard to ignore the irritation. ‘Joss, no.’
She followed me and I didn’t even have to look at her to know she’d be wearing the mulish expression she used to reserve for when people asked her questions she didn’t want to answer. ‘Why tell me these things unless you want a solution?’
‘That’s not a solution,’ I replied quietly, tying the short white apron around my waist. ‘That’s a handout.’ I shot her a smile to soften the blow of my words.
My friend clearly wasn’t having any of that tonight. ‘You know, it took me a long time to figure out that we can’t do everything on our own.’
‘I’m not on my own. I have Cole.’
‘Okay.’ Joss shook her head and took another step in my direction. I turned towards her slightly, my stomach flipping at the edge in her voice. ‘I’m just going to say it.’
Brace yourself, Jo.
‘How can you take Malcolm and all those other guys’ help but not a friend’s?’
Because it’s a totally different thing! ‘It’s different,’ I told her softly. ‘It’s just part of being in a relationship with a guy who has money. I’m not good at many things, Joss. I’m not a scholar like Ellie or a writer like you. I’m a girlfriend. I’m a good girlfriend and my boyfriend likes to show his appreciation by being generous with his money.’
I was surprised by the utter fury that flashed in Joss’s eyes, and I automatically stepped back. ‘One: there’s much more to you than that. Two: do you realize you pretty much described yourself as a glorified whore?’
She might as well have punched me. Hurt cut me deep as I reared back from her words, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. ‘Joss …’
I saw regret pass over her face, and she ducked her head, shaking it. ‘There’s so much more to you, Jo. How can you be happy to let people think these shitty things about you? Before I knew you, I thought you were a cool girl but a mercenary gold digger. I had you pegged all wrong – and so does everyone else. And you let them think that. Do you know how many times I wanted to kick Craig in the balls for the way he talked about you? No one respects you, Jo, because you don’t ask for that respect. I’ve only known the truth for a year and I’m finding it hard to hack it. I don’t know how you hack it. I don’t even think you do.’
Laughter and chatter filtered into the bar from the door and Joss moved away from me in preparation for our first customers. I watched her, feeling shell-shocked and raw … like someone had scrubbed off the top layer of my skin and I was exposed and bleeding.
‘I respect you,’ she told me softly. ‘I do. I know why you do what you do, and I get it. But from one ex-martyr to a current martyr … get over your bullshit and ask for help.’
The customers entered the club and I turned to serve them with a bright fake smile, pretending my closest friend in the world hadn’t just called me out on all the things I feared about myself.
As the night wore on, I was able to push Joss’s opinion to the back of my thoughts, and I flirted with good-looking customers, leaning across the bar to whisper in their ears, giggling at their jokes – good or inane – and generally pretending to have the best time in the world.
The tip jar filled up fast.
Two seconds after an attractive thirtysomething guy wearing a Breitling sports watch slipped me his number before he left the bar, Joss was at my side shaking up a cocktail.
Her eyebrow was quirked up in question. ‘Weren’t you just telling me last night how much you like Malcolm?’
Still feeling sore from her earlier flaying, I shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Just keeping my options open.’
She sighed heavily. ‘I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings back there.’
Not acknowledging the apology, not sure I was even ready to, I nodded down the bar. ‘Your customer is waiting.’
For the rest of the night I avoided conversation with her and constantly checked my phone in case Cole tried to contact me. He didn’t.