Page 69 of Taking A Chance

“Oh, yes,” she says. “This is perfect.”

Claire hurries me out the door, barely letting me grab my clutch and keys.

“Will you slow down?” I say. “I’m going to sprain an ankle going this fast down the stairs.”

“Well, if you’d take the damn elevator like a normal person, you wouldn’t be in danger, you old bat,” she says.

Claire shoves me into the Uber waiting for us on the street, and we’re off. To where, I have no idea, but it’s clearly important to her.

“Can you at least tell me if I’m going to know anyone where we’re going?” I ask, straightening out my top, which rumpled in the scurrying.

She adjusts a compact in front of her face, checking her eye makeup. “Maybe one or two.”

Great.Out all night at an event where I may or may not know someone, when what I really want to do is sit at home and watch Rachel kiss Ross for the first time and cry.

* * *

Who knowshow many minutes later, Claire signals to the driver to let us out.

“But this isn’t your destination,” he protests.

“It’s right around the corner, we can walk from here,” she reassures him.

Why isn’t she letting him pull up to the place?That’s weird.

She opens the door, jumping out of the car onto the sidewalk like there’s a fire in here, and all but pulls my arm out of its socket to get me out.

“Oh my god,” I say. “Calm down. No one’s on fire.”

We take a few paces toward the corner but she stops abruptly in front of me, causing me to nearly trip as I rock back onto my heels. “Christ,” I exclaim. “Are you on drugs?”

“Listen,” she says, spinning around to face me. “You’re going to be mad for like a few minutes once you realize what’s going on. And you’re smart, so that’s pretty much going to happen as soon as we make it around this corner. But I need you to keep an open mind and just go with it, okay?”

My eyes narrow at her, fear and skepticism circling my brain.What has she done?Exhaling louder than necessary, I reluctantly nod. I trust Claire; she’s my friend. Despite our differences of opinion on my personal life, I know she’d never put me in harm’s way.

Rounding the corner, I realize she’s right. It takes me a total of two seconds to realize where we are and what’s happening.

A line is forming in front of an art gallery, one I’ve never heard of. The small venue sits nestled between two other shops, but its size doesn’t seem to affect the crowd.

“What the hell, Claire?” I ask, stopping in my tracks. “I told you I don’t want to see him.”

“You don’tthinkyou want to see him,” she says. “But whether it’s to reconcile or make peace with your decision, you do need to.”

“Is he expecting me?” I ask. “Did he reach out to you or something? Are you plotting?”

“I can honestly say he’s not expecting you,” she says, causing my eyebrows to raise even higher. “But someone else is.”

She drags me toward the door, bypassing the people in line as they give us dirty looks and mumble god knows what under their breath. At the door, she gives a man my name, and he calls for someone inside.

“Carrot cake,” Ryan says, cutting through the crowd, arms outstretched. “Listen, we need to talk.”

I don’t think I’ve ever rolled my eyes so hard at someone. “What do you want?”

Ryan pulls us inside and immediately shoves us into an office near the front. “This is all my fault,” he says, shutting the door behind him. “She was there because of me. He didn’t even know I was sending her.”

My mouth makes a noise that sounds like a mix between a huff and a snort, because I’m not having any of this nonsense. “That’s really not the point.”

“You need to understand that his work is his work. Sometimes it’s great, and sometimes the clients suck. But money is money,” he says. “Look, Declan is the best guy I know. He’s never done a shady thing in his entire fucking life. And you’re blowing it.”

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