As soon as the glass door of GoldLake’s conference room swings shut, Kyla and I exchange a glance.

“Uh, is it just me, or did that not go well?” she says, tucking her hair nervously behind her ear.

I yank the cord out of the laptop to disconnect it from the projector. “It’s not just you.”

“Is he always like that?”

I shake my head. He isn’t. But I can’t exactly tell Kyla that he’s normally sweet and kind and generous. Maybe I just don’t know GoldLake Wes. I wrack my brain for any kind of clue as to what could have caused his reaction to the video.

He’d already approved the idea in concept, and I know he understands that the whole point of the video is to appeal to other women who might want to apply to the program. Maybe it was a tad on the touchy-feely side, but it’s not like that can’t be edited down. If it’s just the tone that’s wrong, we can fix that, but Wes had pretty much dismissed the entire thing.

“I don’t know,” I tell Kyla honestly. “But I think I need a drink.”

We make our way out of the GoldLake offices and down to Veneer, a Manhattan bar where Celia’s fiance Jace actually used to be a bartender. The service has definitely gone downhill since he left, but they still make one of the best grilled cheese sandwiches in the city.

The bar is kind of a dive, but at three in the afternoon, it’s filled with a cheerful assortment of college students, late lunchers, and a few solitary people hunched over laptops and nursing pints that were probably poured hours ago. Kyla and I tuck ourselves into a back corner booth and order beers and grilled cheese sandwiches.

“So, what are we going to do about this proposal?” she asks, sipping from the drink the bartender drops off.

I shake my head. “Ugh. I don’t want to talk about it now.”

It’s a lie, of course. I want to talk about it badly. But what I want to talk about is Wes, and why he’s been behaving so strangely. But since Kyla doesn’t know anything about the fact that I’m sleeping with him, I can’t exactly bring it up. In fact, Celia’s probably the only person I could talk about it with, but she’s up to her neck in last minute wedding preparations right now, and no way am I going to interrupt her so that I can moan about men.

“We kind of have to though,” Kyla points out. I sigh. Why does she have to be so obnoxious and right?

“You’re right. But I don’t know where to start. Do we scrap the whole concept entirely?”

Kyla pushes her pint over and hauls the laptop out of her bag. She flips it open to the presentation and starts scrolling through the slides.

“I’m still convinced the stats are compelling,” Kyla says, running through the numbers.

“Me too. And he seemed on board for that part. I kept sneaking glances at him, and he was definitely nodding along like he was in agreement.” Okay, monitoring his reaction wasn’t the only reason I kept sneaking glances at him, but it’s the only reason I have to tell Kyla about.

“So it was just the video that threw him off.”

“Yeah.” I frown. “I mean, I get it if he didn’t like the quality, or something about the editing or whatever. But he’d already approved the concept. And it’s a good concept. I know it is.” I haven’t been doing the marketing thing a long time, but I know what works. The best campaigns create an emotional connection, without being fake or cheesy. And maybe I lack objectivity here, but I really think this video concept achieves that. So what’s Wes’s problem?

Kyla gnaws at her lip as we both watch the video again. It’s hard to hear in the bar, but we both practically have the whole thing memorized by now. When it finishes, she shakes her head.

“I don’t know, Rori. I still think it’s good. Do you think he’d go for it if we just toned it down a little?”

I nod thoughtfully. “Maybe. Let’s start brainstorming some alternate approaches, but let me talk to him. Maybe I can get some more intel on exactly what he didn’t like about it.”

“Sure. Do you think that’ll work?”

“I have no idea.” At this moment, I have no idea what’s going on with Wes. But I’m hoping that being away at the wedding this weekend will help clarify things. Away from work, away from our obligations … maybe we can finally sort out whatever it is that’s going on between us, once and for all.

* * *

I take the train into Connecticut that night, then take an Uber to the hotel. Celia has a bunch of things planned for the wedding party, starting bright and early tomorrow morning, so I figured it made the most sense to come in tonight instead of rushing on Friday.

I check in at the hotel but I don’t even make it to my room before I hear someone screaming my name. I peek into the bar and see Celia and a group of people clustered around a low table, lounging in low black leather chairs and holding fancy cocktail glasses. I drop my suitcase and Celia and I fly across the room, embracing each other and spinning around like loons.

“I am so happy to see you,” I gush. I can’t believe the rush of warmth that comes over at me at seeing my BFF again. Everything is right with the world again.

“I know! It’s been too long. If I’d known I had to organize a whole wedding just to see you again, I might have thought twice about leaving New York.”

“I heard that,” Jace says from behind us. He’s chuckling and I pull apart from Celia and give him a hug too.

“Sorry, honey,” Celia deadpans. “Sisters before misters.”

He nods agreeably, grinning. “Can’t argue with that logic.”

“Where’s Wes?” Celia asks, looking behind me.

“He’s not coming until Saturday. He has work and I figured he’d be bored trying to entertain himself while I’m off with you.” I don’t mention the fact that things ended on a weird note with him today. He did text me while I was on the train though, just a quick message to say he was sorry about how the meeting had went and that he was looking forward to this weekend. So that made me feel marginally better.

“Makes sense. Everyone here is really anxious to meet him. Trent and Luke were grilling me about him, especially after they found out he was in real estate development. They were asking me questions about his projects and I’m like … guys, I have no sweet clue. All I know is his eyes are blue and that according to you, he has a great ass.”

“Celia!” I smack her arm playfully. “You did not tell them that.”

“Okay, no, I didn’t mention that part. But I know they’re looking forward to meeting him. Maybe they’re hoping he can help them open up some new stores in New York.”

“That would be awesome.”

Celia’s fiance Jace is the brother of Trent and Luke Whittaker, the founders of Loft & Barn, one of the country’s preeminent home furnishings lines. Their stuff is absolutely beautiful — and all designed and prototyped by Luke himself — but it’s hard to get ahold of around here. There are a few stores in Manhattan but they’re all so small that they don’t keep much inventory on hand. To get to the bigger stores, you have to go way outside the city, and who really wants to do that?

“Come on, come have a drink with us.”

“Can I go put my luggage away first?”

Celia raises her eyebrows. “Is that a serious question? Drink first. Luggage later. And you have to do what I say because I’m the bride.”

I pretend to roll my eyes. “You’re going to be completely insufferable this weekend, aren’t you?”

“You know it,” she grins, linking her arm through mine and leading me over to the seating area where I’m enveloped in warm camaraderie and ice cold vodka.