Plot Twist(69)

Sophie absentmindedly brushed sugar off the front of her dress. “Dash and I hadn’t figured out what we were doing, or what we even meant to each other. I mean, not until yesterday.”

“Mmm, the sex day.” Jasmine sipped her drink, but Nina whacked her arm. “Ow!”

“And you didn’t think she’d find out at some point?” Nina asked.

“I didn’t want her to find out, because then we’d have to stop seeing each other.”

“Maybe she would’ve been cool with it.” Jasmine shrugged. “You never know.”

“Sounds like you didn’t trust her,” Nina said.

“No, I—” Sophie stopped herself, though, because she realized that Nina was right: she hadn’t trusted Poppy. She’d convinced herself that if she told her, then Poppy would react negatively. But would her best friend have reacted as badly if she’d told her sooner? There was no way to know.

“Well, fuck, I think I’m having one of those self-realization moments.” Not only had she not trusted Poppy, but she hadn’t trusted any of her exes with her heart. Trust really was the issue holding her back.

“My margaritas tend to do that.” Jasmine raised her glass in a cheers. “You sure you don’t want some tequila in yours?” She nodded to Sophie’s glass.

Sophie shook her head no, because her whole body already felt unsteady, even without the tequila. She’d lost trust that love could happen after her dad left their family and from her mother’s reinforcements that she should never rely on another person for her happiness. And she’d carried that fear that if she ever trusted someone with her heart, they’d break it. So she’d chosen to never trust anyone with it.

Until Dash. Because the truth was that he’d gained her trust, and she’d given him her all. The person she couldn’t be with, and her best friend’s brother, was the first person she’d actually trusted. Well, that was just perfect.

Sophie grabbed her glass and downed the rest of the margarita for courage, because the next stop she had to make was to go and see Carla.

Carla sat behind her midcentury-modern office desk. Her space was like something from a catalog: impossibly chic and impeccably designed, with one wall of the room covered in floor-to-ceiling floating bookshelves and another lined with abstract art that Sophie knew to be original.

“So just to be clear, you’re breaking up with me on my lunch break?” Carla had pierced some salad with her fork but hadn’t yet taken a bite.

“I had to make this appointment with your assistant, and she said this was your earliest avail.” In hindsight, maybe Sophie could’ve waited a few days until Carla was off from work and they could sit down. But pretending to continue things with Carla for even a moment longer felt wrong.

Carla stood from her desk and walked around to the luxe swivel chair Sophie sat on. “I’m not going to beg you to be in a relationship with me. I’m a catch.”

“Trust me, I know.” She shifted slightly in her chair and swallowed down a little lump. She’d be lying if she said there was nothing between them—they had history—but she knew the difference between what she had with Carla and how Dash made her feel. Sophie wanted to chase what she had with Dash.

“Not that it matters, because we’re definitely not getting back together again, but relationships should make you a better version of yourself.” Carla sat on the edge of her desk and glared at Sophie. “And it sounds like you’re running from what we have and going for someone who may or may not be there for you.”

Sophie frowned. Carla had always been able to see to the depths of what she was insecure about and poke there with a little stick. Was she running from Carla toward an unavailable person? She knew she was, but staying with Carla didn’t feel like an option either.

“You don’t have anything to say?” Carla’s hands flew up in frustration.

And Sophie stood so they could be eye-level—well, she was shorter than Carla, but still. “Carla, I really hope you find what you’re looking for, because it can’t be me.”

“And I hope you don’t regret what you’re doing right now, because I won’t be here the next time you realize you’ve fucked up.” Carla gestured toward her office door with a flourish.

Sophie hesitated, unsure if they should hug or...

“That hand motion was for you to get out, please,” Carla said with emphasis.

“Yes, okay.” Sophie began to walk out the door, then turned back. “Do you want it closed or...”

Carla’s salad bowl unexpectedly flew toward the door, and Sophie ducked out of the way to avoid being hit.

“Out!” Carla shouted after her.

As Sophie walked down the narrow hallway toward the exit, past the waiting room, and toward the elevator, a tremor of dread went through her. She shouldn’t be worried about what Carla thought of her. If anything, there was a sense of relief at the truth being out there. She was no longer hiding in the shadows.

But still, there was something Carla had said that gave her pause. I won’t be here the next time you realize you’ve fucked up. Sophie had fucked up plenty of times in her life, multiple within the last twenty-four hours, and she didn’t have a great track record when it came to making the right choices.