Chapter Twenty-Four
It was a rough morning. Becky felt like she had a giant hangover, which was weird because she hadn’t had anything to drink except tea.
No, wait. That wasn’t true. She and Dakota had wallowed in front of bad TV while Bullhorn plied them with drinks until he had to go to work. They vegged and drank and agreed that they would never get lip injections until Bullhorn came home at three in the morning with ice cream.
So she did have a reason to feel bad, and that reason was ice cream and beer and Dakota’s lumpy couch. Also, because once Dakota and Bullhorn went to bed, she’d cried out every ounce of moisture in the county. She didn’t remember the last time she’d cried so hard. Probably never. Probably because nothing had hurt like this.
She knew her wallowing period was over, but Dakota wasn’t up yet, so she gave herself another minute. Because it still hurt. She understood, rationally, the reasons why Foster had pulled away. She’d practically laid the reasons out for him. She just couldn’t seem to convince her stupid heart of that.
She should find another job. She didn’t want to go back to work to face Foster again. And she didn’t really feel that attached to her job anyway. She liked being a librarian, but suddenly she didn’t want to work at a place like P&G, where she never knew the details of the cases she was working on. It made her feel like she wasn’t really involved. And, yeah, that fact would probably work in her favor if she wanted to fight for her job, but the fact that she didn’t even know her own sister was being sued by Goliath . . . and that P&G was defending clients who sued people who were just trying not to kill all the bees. That didn’t sit right with her. That made her wonder what else she’d helped P&G take down. What if she was letting people kill polar bears?
But it wasn’t her conscience that hurt her the most, although she thought that feeding that guilt might be a good way to keep her mind off the fact that Foster had totally broken her heart.
Nope. Too late.
Of course he wouldn’t want to jeopardize his case. And of course he wouldn’t want her involved in his family drama. And he was under a lot of stress. The two things he’d moved back to Colorado for had just blown up in his face at once. But this case was about more than just geography. She might not have been on the big-shot attorney fast track, but she knew how it worked. She knew you didn’t move from New York to Denver for just any old case. You moved because you were going to be partner. And if he lost this case, there was no way.
So yeah, she got why he was willing to stay away. But it still hurt that he’d jumped at the opportunity so quickly.
And the worst part was, she wasn’t going to get to see Starr anymore. Just when they were starting to become friends.
“Hey, how’d you sleep?” Dakota came down the stairs in baggy pants and her bathrobe, rubbing her eyes. Becky quickly shoved her face in the pillow.
“Oh no. Are you still crying? Hey, I told you, your pity party time is up.” She sounded harsh, but she sat down on the couch and rubbed Becky’s back anyway.
“It’s not about that. It’s that . . . I just realized I won’t get to see Starr anymore. I love that dog!”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Dakota wrapped her in a full hug. “I know you do. Maybe we can arrange some visitations or something. We’ll work it out.”
Becky sat up and wiped her eyes. “It’s fine. I mean, yes, let’s think about that, but for now, it’s fine. It’s done. We’re done.”
“Are you sure? He called Bullhorn like twelve times last night.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. Bullhorn finally picked up, and he said he couldn’t get through to you.”
“Oh. My phone probably died. Like everything in my life.”
“That’s the spirit. Come on, bring that dead phone into the kitchen. My charger is in there, and you can make me coffee while I solve all your problems.”
Dakota held out her hand to help Becky up off the couch.
“Wait a second.” Becky took Dakota’s left hand and flipped it over. “What’s this?”
“Oh, that.” Dakota took her hand back and fiddled with the ring on her finger. “I didn’t want to tell you until you were feeling better.”
“Bullhorn?”
“No, the other man who’s been sleeping in my bed for the past few months.”
“Dakota! I’m so happy for you!” Love may be an unreachable goal for her, but she wasn’t a total monster. She squeezed her best friend into a tight hug. “When did he ask you?”
“Last night when he got home.”
“While I was on the couch sobbing? How romantic.”
“He checked to make sure you were asleep. He said he was going to wait until we went camping next weekend, but with the stuff with you and Foster . . .”
“I got nervous that she’d escape my clutches.”
Bullhorn came down the stairs, his hair sticking up at crazy angles, and he scooped Dakota up around the waist and spun her around.
“Never,” Dakota said. He put her down, slowly, and they started kissing.
Which was Becky’s cue to find Dakota’s charger in the kitchen. And she’d make coffee for the lovebirds, too.
While the coffee brewed, she turned on her phone. No new messages. She wasn’t disappointed, she told herself. She’d given him space; he was taking the space. Besides, her pity party was over.
“Hey, what about this fundraiser?” she called out to the living room.
“Oh that.” Dakota walked into the kitchen, Bullhorn trailing behind with his arms around her waist. “Um . . . I think we’ve got that taken care of.”
Becky looked at the clock. “That was fast.”
“Something came up. It’s still tentative, but it’s promising.”
“OK. What can I do?”
“Nothing. I mean, show up.”
“You do realize that less than twelve hours ago you told me you required me to help you brainstorm.”
“I had a productive morning.”
“You got engaged and you planned a fundraiser.”
“Hey, I’m efficient.”
“Should I at least bring my camera?”
“Yes. Definitely bring your camera.”