Leah rubbed her knee. “You did good. I know it sucks, but you have to respect her confidentiality.”
“It just doesn’t make sense,” Heather said, her eyes still locked on Danica, where the other woman was sitting awfully close to one of the nameless guys in her group. “I thought maybe the whole hands-off thing was some new bizarre trend she was trying to set, but she obviously wants people to think that she’s actually involved.”
“It is strange,” Alexis murmured, her expression speculative. “Especially with what’s been going on in the tabloids.”
Heather looked at her friend. “What do you mean?”
Brooke and Alexis exchanged a glance, and Heather waved a hand between their gazes. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. Fill me in.”
“There’ve been rumors that Danica’s stepping out on Troy,” Brooke said.
“Don’t know how those might have gotten started,” Heather said, with a subtle head nod in Danica’s direction. “Still, that’s nothing new, right? Everyone knows that cheating scandals sell magazines, even the ones not based on fact.”
“True,” Alexis said, biting her lip and looking uncharacteristically worried. “Something’s just not right about all of this.”
“Tell me about it,” Heather muttered, rubbing her temples. “You know what? I’m not going to think about this right now. Monday morning I’ll call Danica and tell her about my concerns. But right now I want a bubble bath and a very good night’s sleep.”
She glanced at her watch. “Or as good a night’s sleep as I can get, considering it’s past one.”
At least there was one upside to staying out late on a Friday night; she’d miss the thump thump twang of Josh’s band practice.
“You care if I bail on the rest of your birthday night?” she asked, turning toward Alexis.
Alexis waved this away. “Please. I’m secretly hoping we wrap up soon so I can get a little bit of work done before tomorrow morning.”
Heather rolled her eyes and kissed her friend’s cheek. “You’re a mess. You know that, right?”
“Do either of you need help tomorrow?” Brooke asked. “I don’t have anything until the small Mortin wedding tomorrow.”
“No, I’m good,” Heather said, standing and reaching for her jacket. “Thanks, though.”
It was true. Her wedding tomorrow was an easy one. The couple had opted to keep the ceremony small, a swanky brunch reception on a yacht. All Heather had to do was make sure the appropriate vendors were on the boat on time and that the restrooms were stocked with motion-sickness meds in addition to the usual perfumes and breath mints.
Easy enough. At least this bride had actually seemed to care about her wedding, Heather thought sourly with one more surreptitious glance at Danica Robinson and her group.
“Honestly, you both know how much I love this business, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t more than a little excited for the office to be closed for Thanksgiving,” Alexis said, draining the last of her glass.
Thanksgiving.
Just like that, Heather’s already bad mood took another dip. She loved Thanksgiving. Who didn’t, really? All that glorious food and wine and excuse to have pie for breakfast the next day.
But she’d been so hoping that this was the year that would be her Thanksgiving. The one where she’d get to take her mom to the Macy’s parade and then they’d come home to the delicious aroma of a cooking turkey, maybe make pumpkin pie together . . .
Instead she’d be all by herself.
And yes, it had been her choice not to go back to Michigan. Not only because she had a wedding the weekend after the holiday, but maybe because she was being a tiny bit stubborn.
Heather was always the one to travel for the holiday. Always the one to make the trek home and do Thanksgiving on her mother’s terms. Which would be fine if her mom was an invalid, but Joan Fowler was active and perky and could get on a plane if she wanted to.
But she didn’t want to. Heather loved her mother, but she was also tired of always being the one to do things her mother’s way.
And as for Josh’s insistence that she take his mother up on her offer—well, she was fairly certain that invitation was off the table. Not that she’d take him up on it if it still was, the beast.