Page 82 of Succumbed

“What? It’s adorable.”

“It’s what my nephew calls me. It’s not for adults.”

“Jax is an adult,” Ruby intones flatly.

I glance over at her. “Fine. It’s not for other adults.”

“Whatever. He used it once around me and I loved it, so it’s sticking,” Cass insists. “Back to the matter at hand. You’re the most predictable person I know, and you’ve been completely baffling for the last two weeks.”

“Predictable?!” My lips part as I stare at her. “You’re kidding me.”

“Don’t take it personally.” She flaps a hand at me. “You’re a brilliant businesswoman and make all sorts of surprising strategic moves at work, you know this.”

“But outside of work,” Ruby adds, “you’re usually very reliable.”

“I like reliable more than predictable.” I tip my wine toward Ruby.

“Semantics.” Cass waves her hand again. “I’ve known you for years and she’s known you for decades and we’re both confused as fuck about what’s going on with you lately.”

“I see.”

“This is the part where you spill.” Cass perches on my couch expectantly, her expression open and encouraging.

I glance over at Ruby, finding her hawk eyes trained on me. Sighing, I sip from my giant glass.

“I will confiscate that damn thing if you try to hide behind it all night, Lexi, I swear to god.”

“Call me Lexi again, and I’ll throw you both out.”

“Hey!” Ruby protests. “I haven’t called you Lexi once!”

“Guilty by association,” I insist, gesturing vaguely between them.

“She’s on the opposite side of the room and we came in separate cars,” Ruby deadpans.

“Whoa, Roo. Stone cold.” Cass stares at her with wide eyes.

“What?” Ruby shrugs. “She’s my best friend. If I gotta throw you under the bus to help her, I will.”

“I’ll allow it.” Cass raises her glass in salute as Ruby does the same, united in their determination to wear me down. Then the redhead turns to me again. “We’re back to my original ask, then. Spill.”

“I don’t want to.” I don’t. At all. I’m not sure I’ve fully processed why I’ve been in a funk for two weeks. And processing out loud with these two sounds…painful.

“We could just get her drunk and try again in an hour,” Ruby offers. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” She holds my glare, unflinching.

I’ve led thousands of negotiations in my career, and no one resisted the full weight of my glaring silence without sweating, fidgeting, breaking, or all three. But Ruby sips her wine, completely unaffected. She’d make a damn fine lawyer if she didn’t hate bureaucracy.

“It’s silly,” I insist. “I’ll get over it.”

“Stop deflecting!” Cass’s tone is indignant as she slides down to the cushion, her back up against the arm. “Lex, you’re worrying me. What’s going on?”

“Do we need to kick some idiot in the balls?”

Turning back to Ruby, I level a finger at her. “Yes.”

“Which one? The tattooed tech geek who brought you blue light glasses last week–I’m still not over how fucking sweet that was, by the way–or the golden retriever runner?” Cass asks eagerly.

“You’re both way too invested in this,” I sigh.

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