Sloane grins and launches into a detailed explanation of her sweater’s construction. As we laugh and sip our festive cocktails, I push thoughts of Tyler and work stress to the back of my mind. For now, at least, I can just enjoy this moment with my friend.
“So, I have a confession,” Sloane says as she orders us two more drinks.
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow, taking a sip of my peppermint martini. “This should be good.”
“Actually... it’s you who should be confessing. You’re holding out on me. I thought we were close enough to not keep secrets.”
I nearly choke on my drink. “What are you talking about?”
Secrets would be an understatement. The question is which one?
Sloane crosses her leg, flips her hair and narrows her eyes. “A little birdie told me you’ve been spending time with a certain someone.”
My face is suddenly very hot, and I’m grateful for the dim lighting in the bar. “It’s not what you think. We’re just—”
“It’s fine,” she interrupts. “You didn’t sign an exclusivity contract or anything. You can show off other jewelry besides Moth to the Flame. And Hailey has some amazing pieces. She’s far more... edgy... gothic. I’m surprised you like it so much. I didn’t peg it as your style.”
I blink in confusion, my mind racing to catch up with Sloane’s words. Hailey? Jewelry?
“Oh,” I say, trying to hide my relief that we aren’t speaking about Jack or even Dark Secrets. “Yeah, Hailey’s jewelry is... different, but in a good way.”
“You don’t have to hide it from me. I mean... my designs are still far superior,” she teases.
I laugh, grateful for the misunderstanding. “Of course they are. No one can top your designs.”
She preens at the compliment, tossing her tinsel-adorned hair. “Damn straight. But seriously, it’s okay to branch out a bit. Just don’t let Jasmine catch wind of it. You know how possessive she can be about her brand ambassadors.”
I nod, remembering the stern talking-to another influencer had received for wearing a competitor’s bracelet in an Instagram post. “Trust me, I’m careful.”
“Good,” Sloane says, raising her glass. “To staying on Jasmine’s good side and rocking killer accessories!”
We clink glasses, and I try to push away the guilt gnawing at me. She’s right. We shouldn’t keep secrets from each other, and lately that’s all I’ve been doing.
“So,” I say, eager to change the subject, “tell me more about this family Christmas in Montauk. What exactly am I missing out on?”
Sloane’s eyes light up. “Oh, where do I even start? There’s Aunt Marge’s infamous fruitcake—I swear it’s more brandy than cake. And when there’s enough snow, we have the snowman-building contest, which always ends in sabotage and tears...”
As Sloane regales me with tales of her family’s holiday antics, I find myself laughing harder than I have in months. For a moment, I almost regret turning down her invitation. But then I remember the empty house waiting for me, filled with memories I need to face.
“It sounds amazing,” I say when she finally pauses for breath. “Maybe next year?”
Sloane’s expression softens. “Absolutely. And hey, if you change your mind at the last minute, there’s always room for one more. Even if we have to stuff you in the chimney like Santa.”
I smile, touched by her persistence. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
As we continue chatting and sipping our cocktails, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, expecting another work email, but freeze when I see the name on the screen.
Jack.
I smile as I read the words.
Hey, Scrooge. Hope you’re not drowning your sorrows in eggnog. Just want you to know I’m picking up a shift for a buddy, but when I’m off, we can make plans for our date and discuss our anti-Christmas agenda.
There’s a flutter in my stomach as I read Jack’s message. Part of me wants to respond immediately, but I hesitate, glancing at Sloane.
“Everything okay?” she asks, noticing my sudden distraction.
“Yeah, just... nothing,” I lie, slipping my phone back into my pocket. I’ll respond to Jack later, when I’m alone.
Sloane narrows her eyes and leans forward, her sweater jingling slightly. “Oh no, you don’t get to ‘just nothing’ me. Spill it, Chloe. Who’s got you smiling at your phone like that?”