How to Steal Your Best Friend's Fiancé - London Casey Page 0,24
wondering what would have happened in my life if I took a left or a right turn here and there.
Those days came and went, as they did for everyone.
My plan had been to come home, take a hot shower, have a stiff drink, and forget about the day.
I did not expect to see Emily in the kitchen.
Not that it was a bad sight.
The way she looked at me and smiled, there was a sense of comfort there. Almost to the point where I wanted to dump on the counter about my day. And knowing Emily, she’d listen, hear me, say something nice, then say something supporting. Or funny.
As Miranda walked away from the counter, I looked down and pinched the bridge of my nose. I had to chase away the images of Emily and I sitting there, drinking wine, laughing together.
Friends. We’re friends. Emily and I go back one hundred years. Friends as teenagers. Finding each other again in college. Life just being life all around us. Sometimes we wouldn’t talk for months, but when we talk, it’s always fun. A blast. That’s right. A freaking blast.
“Are you okay over there?” Emily asked.
I picked my head up and looked at her. “I’m great. You?”
“Worried.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I have no clue what’s going on here.”
“Rough day at the office?” Emily asked.
“Can you tell?”
“A little,” she said. “Too many legal things at once?”
“Something like that,” I said. “I was standing at the window and thinking about that one night Steve and I set that tent on fire. By accident, of course.”
Emily threw her head back and laughed. “Accident. Yeah right.”
“What?” I asked. “It was.”
“No it wasn’t. You two were talking about setting something on fire all night that night.”
“Not a tent,” I said. “We were supposed to camp out there that night.”
“How did it even start then?”
I turned and leaned against the counter and faced Emily. “You don’t remember? Wow. Okay. Do you remember Meghan?”
“Meghan…?”
I put my hands to my chest and moved them out.
“Meghan,” I said.
“Oh,” Emily said. “Right. The girl that made every girl jealous.”
“Really?”
“She had boobs in third grade,” Emily said.
“See? And I got stuck with Mr. Barabitz for third grade. I missed out on the fun.”
“That’s gross, Liam.”
“How? It’s natural.”
“Natural,” Emily said. “You know she got them reduced. In size.”
“She did?”
“Yeah. They were causing back issues. So… ha…”
“Look at you. Taking pride in another woman’s suffering. I expected more from you, Emily.”
“Oh, shut up,” she said. “Go back to your story.”
“Okay, so that night, Steve said-”
“Sorry about that!” Miranda announced. “Had to get something, send an email, take a call…”
Emily and I were smiling and those smiles faded.
That was a moment I’d never forget.
Seeing my fiancée made me unhappy… shit.
Miranda put her hand on a notebook. “This is everything that needs to get done. It’s a long list, but it’s doable. And truthfully, I won’t beat around the bush. I haven’t been as present as a normal fiancée would. But that’s just who we are, right, Liam?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”
She flipped open the notebook. “I know I look like the worst person ever here… but I’m here. For now. I’m going to Boston tomorrow. And it’s not just the conference. There’s more.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Liam, we talked about leaving here so many times. It’s always been a dream of mine. I know we have the big city here but… Boston…”
I felt bad for Emily.
She looked rigid and uncomfortable.
“Miranda, what’s happening here?” I asked.
“Sorry. It’s a week-long conference. There’s a lot happening. But I’m planning on hanging around for a week after. Maybe more. I don’t know. I have a few meetings I’m taking. Possible job offers.”
“In Boston,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m not taking anything, okay. I just want to explore options. I want to… see what it’s like there. That’s all. I thought we were going to do this together, Liam. Now, I get it. You have to stay here. That’s fine. And I know we agreed to get married here. Things are already in motion. So I’m not saying we’re not going to do that. I know you’re working on a lot at once on your own. This notebook… you and Emily… it all makes sense…”
“What makes sense?” Emily asked.
“I need your help, Emily,” Miranda said.
“Okay…”
“Okay? You’re in?” Miranda asked.
“I mean okay… as in, I’m listening…”
“Right,” Miranda said. “Sorry. There are some deadlines coming up for the wedding. Flowers. Food. Music. So many things I really have no… I don’t know. I’m