Excitement glimmered in Avery’s eyes. “Do you think this is going to happen?” she asked me.
“I think Brock is on board. He does have some concerns about cost and profitability, which is normal, but I think there is a lot of growth potential here,” I answered truthfully. “The trick will be getting my father to sign off. He’s open to new ideas, but this is not something he’s ever considered before. I want to have everything lined up before we go to him. We want to position this so it doesn’t even cross his mind to turn it down. I think we can make this work.”
Avery hobbled from one side to the next, which I guess was her version of her happy dance.
Giggling, Teresa raised her arms and shook them before waddling over to where I was standing. “Thank you.” She stood on my left side and placed her hand on my arm. “Seriously. I know nothing is official yet, but thank you for wanting to help us and trying to make this possible. Dancing has been such a large part of our lives, that to be able to seriously get involved in it again is nothing short of making a dream come true for us.”
“No problem.” Blushing a little, I glanced over to where Avery was smiling at us. “So what do you guys think about possible timing if this pans out?”
“The timing is perfect if we’re looking at the spring before anything starts to get moving,” Avery said, looking toward Teresa. “You’re due by the end of December—”
“Thank God,” Teresa muttered.
“By the time classes would be ready, we’d probably be looking at mid-summer, right?”
Teresa nodded. “Right.”
There was a sudden burst of male laughter followed by the sound of something fleshy hitting what sounded like a mat.
Teresa glanced at the double doors with a slight frown. “I really hope Brock isn’t showing them moves.”
“God, I hope not, because I’m really hungry and don’t want to spend the evening in the emergency room,” Avery agreed.
I laughed. “If he is, he’ll be gentle with them.” Kind of, I added silently.
The look on Avery’s face said she knew better. “Maybe we should go find them.”
“Not necessary,” a male voice announced from the door, and I twisted at the waist. Jase was striding through the doors, his gaze fixed on his wife. “I know you guys were bereft without us, but we’re back.”
Teresa snorted. “I don’t think bereft is the right word.”
A second later Cam and Brock entered, and I bet Avery was relieved to see Cam appearing to be in one piece and not limping. He immediately joined the redhead, draping his arms over her narrow shoulders. Speaking too low for me to hear, I guessed by the sudden pink tint to Avery’s cheeks that whatever Cam had said to her was something she was glad I didn’t overhear.
Jase walked up behind his wife, and looped his arms around her, his hands resting on her extended stomach. “Everything good?” he asked, kissing her cheek.
Closing her eyes, she nodded as she leaned back into him. I felt a tug at my chest, and lowered my gaze, feeling like I shouldn’t be gawking at them like a creeper. The love they felt for one another was palpable, the same with Avery and Cam. It was good to be surrounded by such happy couples, but sometimes it was hard not to be a wee bit jealous. I felt crappy for feeling that way, but it was hard to imagine myself where Teresa and Avery were. Well, I mean I could imagine it, but that was all it was. A fantasy at this point.
I peeked over at Brock. He was checking out his phone, his jaw clenched, and I felt my stomach take an Olympic dive. He’d been out of the office most of Thursday and today, in various meetings, so I hadn’t seen much of him since that afternoon in my office, when he made his promise—a promise I didn’t fully understand.
He’d picked me up this morning, using the same excuse he’d said before, and I was a bit nervous about the drive home. Hell, the drive anywhere at this point, because he hadn’t been very talkative this morning or the few times I’d seen him.
“Everything look good?” Brock asked, lowering his phone.
Teresa and Avery practically exploded into a chorus of enthusiastic yeses, and a small grin curved up the corner of Brock’s lips while both husbands smiled more broadly.
“Good.” Brock glanced over at me, his expression unreadable. “Then let’s hit the road.”
* * *
Staring at what I believed was my second shot of Jameson, I tried to figure out how I got to the point where my belly was full, the blood in my veins was warm, and all the muscles in my body were decidedly relaxed.
It had started with wine.
Squirreled away in the small restaurant-bar, we had commandeered a large booth in front of the glass windows, and Teresa who obviously couldn’t drink had somehow weaseled me into drinking for her. Something about living vicariously through me.
Now, I was typically a “one glass of wine and done” type of girl. Very rarely did I drink two . . . or four, and especially not around other people. The thing with getting buzzed, you tend to forget things about yourself, and while that could be awesome, I liked to be spatially aware of my surroundings . . . and my weird mouth.
But before I knew it, and through no fault of my own, I drank a couple of glasses of wine, and I think one shot, and I wasn’t thinking about my mouth or the scars, or the conversation Brock and I had had Wednesday, or the night Brock broke my heart and I ended up with said scars. I wasn’t really thinking about any of that nonsense, and it was wonderful.
I should drink more often.