How to Steal Your Best Friend's Fiancé - London Casey Page 0,60

“The biggest diamond ring I ever saw.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“I didn’t want to marry him. So I told him that.”

“While he was on one knee?”

“Of course,” Carla said. “Hey. Life is too short to fuck around. I told him I liked him. I told him I didn’t love him. He put the ring away…”

“And you fucked him,” Faye said.

“You did?” I asked.

“Well, yeah,” Carla said. “But that was the last time. And why are we talking about this? Or about me? We were supposed to talk about singing.”

“Wait a second,” Faye said. She smiled a devilish grin, which matched her jet-black hair that came down just past her shoulders. “Can we talk about the guy you were with last night, Emily?”

“Nope,” I said. “Let’s talk about singing.”

Carla laughed. “Oh, come on. That guy was… hot. Tell me you took him home…”

“Liam is an old friend.”

“Old friend,” Faye said, rolling her eyes. “That means either he’s gay or he’s taken.”

“Which one?” Carla asked.

“Taken,” I said.

“And where was she?” Faye asked.

“She’s away right now,” I said.

“Oh, you little devil,” Carla said. She slapped my arm. “The bitch goes away and you come out to play…”

Faye clicked her tongue. “My, oh, my… you fit right in with us.”

“Tell her about Robin and Fritz.”

“Who’s Fritz?” I asked.

“Her husband, Kyle,” Carla said. “That’s his nickname. Long story short… Fritz had a girlfriend. They were basically engaged. Weird story there too. But Robin saw him and wanted him. She was better. She believed they were meant to be.”

“Did he… cheat?” I asked.

“Not necessarily,” Faye said. “Feelings are crazy things, you know?”

“Put it this way,” Carla said. “When they both knew, they both knew. That was it. Fritz got rid of the wrong woman and got the right one.”

“Even though he knocked up the right one and we’re short a singer,” Faye said.

“Which brings it all back to why we’re here,” Carla said.

“Wait a second,” I said. “Robin and Fritz. They’re married? She’s pregnant? It’s good?”

“I’ve never seen her so happy,” Faye said. “They’re meant to be. The heart knows what it wants. It’s not all sappy romance like in a movie.”

“Back to singing,” I said.

“Simple,” Carla said. “Do you want to sing with us or not?”

“I do,” I said. “I’d love to sing on stage with you. And Ernie wants me to sing a solo show too.”

“Perfect,” Faye said. “How awesome is it that the night Robin sings her last song with us you’re there to sing, Emily?”

“Thank Liam,” I said. “He wanted me to do it.”

“I hope that’s not all he wants you to do,” Carla said with a wink.

I laughed.

My cheeks turned red.

I was actually happy for the first time in a long time.

All because of Liam.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Liam

I heard my phone ringing from across the apartment.

I wasn’t sure I had ever ran so fast through the apartment to get to my phone ever.

For good reason.

There was a phone call I had been waiting for damn near all day.

With each passing second it felt like the day was going to go without hearing her voice. Which almost felt like a tragedy to me.

There was that other voice in my head, reminding me of one word.

Wrong.

Wrong was right.

But what was right didn’t feel it.

That made everything simply confusing.

All my racing thoughts came to a sudden halt when I saw the name on the screen.

Miranda.

I rubbed my jaw and answered the call.

“Hey,” I said in the happiest voice I could muster up.

“Liam,” she yelled into the phone.

“Miranda?”

“Liam. Is that you?”

“Yes,” I said as I walked toward the kitchen. “It’s me.”

“This is Miranda,” she said.

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No.”

“Yes you are,” I said. I laughed. “What are you doing calling me drunk?”

“We’re supposed to get married. Remember that?”

I took a slow breath. “Miranda, where are you right now?”

“Outside. Liam. I’m smoking a cigarette.”

I swallowed hard. “Why are you doing that, Miranda?”

“Because I want to,” she said. “You can’t control me anymore.”

“I don’t control you. I never tried to.”

“You made me quit smoking.”

“I didn’t make anyone do anything,” I said. “You wanted to quit and asked for my help. Remember?”

“Liar,” she said. “I’m going to smoke a million cigarettes tonight. Okay? What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing. If that makes you happy…”

“You used to make me happy, Liam,” Miranda said.

“I think you need to call it a night over there, Miranda. You’re starting to say some mean things.”

Which was typical Miranda when she got too drunk. There was a level of her drinking that went from being tipsy