And I didn’t. My emotional Rottweiler was straining against his chain, snarling and barking, teeth bared.
I didn’t need this shit. I didn’t need these people.
I didn’t need to think about the fact that I’d had unprotected sex, twice, with Crowe. If his swimmers were anything like him they were gonzo and had probably already fertilized at least one of my eggs and as I stood in the yellow counseling room were likely creating a beautiful baby with dark hair, dark eyes and amazing bone structure. This would mean I’d never get Vance Crowe out of my life.
Furthermore I didn’t need to think about what he said to me, how he said it or how it made me feel.
I needed to think about my mission. I needed to keep my head in the game.
The door flew open and Roxie, who still had her hand on the knob, went flying.
Indy, Ally and Jet stormed into the room. I looked to the ceiling and fought for patience, or deliverance, or the ability to beam myself to Nicaragua.
I came back into the room when I heard Indy say, “Sorry Roxie.”
“What’d we miss?” Ally was staring at me.
Jet closed the door.
“I have to get to work,” I announced, stalking to the door but Daisy got in front of me and stopped me.
“He hurt you?” she asked, her voice still kind.
“No,” I answered. “I’m late. I have appointments.”
“Does anyone know if they did it?” Jet whispered to May.
“We haven’t got that far,” May replied.
“Sugar, talk to us,” Daisy grabbed my hand.
I looked at our hands then at her then I pulled my hand out of hers. “Listen, I don’t mean to be rude but I have work to do and this, really, is none of your business.”
Daisy’s head jerked and she took a step back.
I went to walk by her but a strong hand wrapped around my upper arm, ultra-long fingernails (I noticed, at a glance, they were painted frosty pink with swipes of silver across the tips) biting into my flesh and Daisy turned me back around. I was now facing a Daisy without the kind and gentle look on her face. This was a serious Daisy, serious as a heart attack.
“Girl, I know you’re a kickass, head-crackin’ mamma jamma but whatever happened with Vance you ain’t ever gonna get through if you don’t talk to your girlfriends, comprende?”
“You aren’t my girlfriends,” I told her.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Excuse me but we held the goddamned Sacred Girlfriend Ritual last night in your very own livin’ room,” Daisy declared, “complete with margaritas and makeup.”
“Sorry, Jules, but you aren’t getting rid of us,” Indy said.
“If he hurt her, I’m gonna kick his f**kin’ ass,” Ally said to no one.
“Vance wouldn’t hurt her, no way,” Roxie said quietly, watching me.
May pushed through everyone and grabbed onto my upper arms. “Talk, girl,” she said quietly in her Mama’s-gonna-make-it-better voice and even I, head-crackin’ mamma jamma (whatever that meant) was no match for May’s Mama voice.
I took a deep breath and let it go. “The date was terrible,” I told them and May’s hands dropped and she stepped back, her face falling with disappointment.
“Oh no,” Jet said.
“We fought,” I explained.