Page 12 of Rivals Next Door

“Okay. You’ll stop by to see me soon?”

“Of course, Mom.”

“Good girl. Anthony is here with my medication. Later, honey.”

“Bye, Mom.”

I heard her mutter something about her nurse being the hottest eye candy, and I rolled my eyes and sniggered. No massive stroke could stop Vivian Brentwood from flirting.

As soon as I hung up, I saw a woman waving to me from the window of the restaurant ahead. Her black curls bobbed with the enthusiasm that she waved me over with. Elena Martinez’s energy was unmatched. That’s why we were best friends. She steamrolled over my prudish attitude with her craziness and had been counteracting my tight-ass ways for years. I grinned as I made my way across the street.

Thankfully, the restaurant wasn’t so crowded. I made a beeline for the table where Elena sat beaming at me.

“Hi, gorgeous!” She greeted me as she stood up to give me air kisses.

I smiled. Look up “dramatic” in the dictionary and Elena’s picture would be next to the definition. The fact that she was a no-nonsense journalist with a cut-throat reputation was a bit of a contradiction to her wacky personality. However, I think I was one of the few who got to see whacky Elena.

“Hey, Elena.” I dropped into a chair and sighed. “Alright, bring out the wine pronto. I made sure to walk here.”

“You came ready to get shitfaced, and it's barely noon. What’s going on?” Elena watched me with dark brown eyes filled with curiosity.

“Too damn much.” I grabbed the pitcher of water in the middle of the table and poured some into a glass.

Elena gave me a raised eyebrow stare as she signaled the nearest waitress.

“It isn’t Vivian, is it?” she asked.

“No, Mom is doing much better.”

“So it’s Liam, then?” Elena shook her head and harrumphed. “That little shit…”

“It isn’t just Liam.”

“Work?”

“And something else…”

She blinked. “There’s something else?”

I tilted my head. “Why so surprised?”

Elena smiled softly. “Honestly, Livy, that’s pretty much all that goes on in your life. Your mom, brother, and work.”

I stared at Elena as the waitress appeared.

She ordered a cabernet Sauvignon, our favorite red.

“Wow… I really am pathetic, huh?” I breathed as the waitress disappeared.

“No.” Elena scoffed. “You know damn well that’s not what I meant. You’re Olivia fucking Brentwood, queen of these flipping United States.”

I rolled my eyes hard. Did I mention that she was dramatic?

“You couldn’t be pathetic if you tried. I meant that for the longest your world has been consumed by those things. Frankly, you barely have a life of your own to enjoy, Livy, and I hate that for you. You’re not happy.”

Elena’s words hit closer to home than I would have liked to admit. She was right. I wasn’t happy, a sad truth I’d been dodging. For as long as I could remember, my life had been orbiting everything but my happiness.

The waitress appeared with our bottle of wine and menus. I waited until she was out of earshot before I responded to Elena’s observation.

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