Page 53 of VOGUEish

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“We’ll always have Paris,” Bogart said.

Isabella sighed and turned off the television. The cover meeting had ended three hours ago. The tension of having Chandler there while she interacted with her coworkers was still evident in the tightness in her shoulders. She’d felt their gazes going back and forth between the two of them all evening, as if waiting for one of them to slip and give themselves away as a couple.

“That line gets me in the feels every time.” Chloe rolled over and propped her feet on the wall beside her bed. “Casablanca launched the bar into outer space for all movies that have followed.”

Isabella propped her feet on the wall next to Chloe’s “That and Weekend at Bernie’s. A totally unappreciated classic.”

Chloe lolled her head to the side and rolled her eyes at Isabella.

“You have no appreciation for slapstick humor,” Isabella accused.

“Why does romance have to break our hearts twenty million times for every one time it doesn’t?” Chloe asked. Something had happened while she had been away that was bothering her, but so far, she’d not shared the details.

Isabella knew now wasn’t the moment to push. “I know, right?” Much to her dismay, Chandler had left with everyone else. She’d really thought he’d stick around, and they could talk about how she’d uninvited him to be her plus one dinner date with her parents. Then again, it was best he hadn’t stayed behind tonight. Her coworkers would have seen that as all the proof they needed that the two of them were already an item. “Men can really be complicated.”

While part of her wasn’t looking forward to her upcoming date with Ryder, the other part thought it couldn’t arrive soon enough. She needed something to take her mind off Chandler.

Chloe stood up and stretched, bending over to lay her hands flat on the floor.

She was the only person Isabella knew who could look freaking sexy in Cuddle Duds. In what world was that fair?

“My theory is when God handed out romantic love,” Chloe said, “he came up short. Thus, therefore, and whatnot, love is a hot commodity. Not everyone is guaranteed their allotment.”

Isabella threw a pillow, managing to knock Chloe off balance. “That’s a horrible theory. I believe there is one love for every one romantic.

Chloe stood. “I’ve been trying to come up with the best way to tell you this, and there just isn’t a good way.”

Isabella’s breath hitched. “What?”

“I won’t be at our class reunion. An assignment has come up that has me out of the country for the next six months.”

Isabella’s stomach turned into a churning machine. This couldn’t be happening. She needed Chloe at her comeback moment. What if the ones who’d humiliated her before had plans to do it again? How would they go about it? Who would help her stay calm in the face of it? Definitely not some random guy she was pretending to be engaged to. “When do you leave? Can you get out of it?”

“In a few days and not if I want to keep this client.” Chloe gave her a sad smile. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t there when you needed me after prom, and now I won’t be there to see your revenge moment. It’s okay if you hate me. I kind of hate myself.”

Isabella willed her stomach to calm down. “It’s okay. Work comes first. It’s not like either of us is independently wealthy.”

Chloe studied Isabella. “Why don’t we throw on some party threads and go out? You look like you could use a break from life.”

“I better not. I have to be at work at the crack of dawn’s butt tomorrow.” Not that she was complaining. She got to sit in on the interview for the new editor-in-chief. “Besides, it’s snowing pretty heavy.”

Chloe walked over to Isabella’s bedroom window and glanced out. “I have to admit, I’ve missed the snow while living in paradise.”

Isabella blocked the memory of standing there with Chandler. “That’s easy for you to say when you haven’t been schlepping through it back and forth to work.”

Chloe walked back over and crawled onto the foot of Isabella’s bed, turning to face Isabella, placing a couple of pillows behind her back as if settling in for an all-night girl’s chat.

“I know you said you don’t want to talk about it, but I’m all ears should you change your mind and want to talk about your last blog post about having sex with the guy who saved you on prom night.”

Isabella let out a long sigh. What were friends for if you couldn’t talk about what’s on your mind? “Truth?”

“Sure.”

“It was Chandler.”

“Damn. I knew there was more to your mood with him. Was it good?”

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