Page 58 of Rafferty

“I’m going to see what they want,” I say to Rafferty.

He takes my empty plate, sets it under his that still has food on it since he took twice as much as I did, and leans toward me to whisper, “I bet they want to find out all the juicy gossip.”

I blink in surprise. “You mean about you?”

“Sure,” he says with an easy shrug. “I mean… everyone wants to know what’s going on.”

“But no one’s asked you yet,” I point out.

“Yet,” he says with a wink. “Few more drinks in everyone and I’ll be ambushed.”

“And you’re okay with it?”

“Sure. Why not? Brienne didn’t say we couldn’t tell anyone about our meeting today, and besides that, all the guys know this is Tansy’s doing. I guess there’s really not much to tell other than Brienne’s looking into it.”

I glance back at Willa and Mazzy and hold up my index finger to give me a moment. With a sigh, I rub his lower back soothingly. “I wish we’d get an answer soon. The suspense is killing me.”

“Me too,” he admits ruefully. Then a smile breaks free. “But hey… maybe if I get fired, I can go to college with you.”

I snort. “No way you’re getting fired. You’re too good, and besides that, you’re in the right and Tansy’s in the wrong. Brienne will set things straight.”

“Yeah, I have to believe that.” Rafferty presses a kiss to my forehead. “Now go hang out with your girls. Just make sure to find me before the clock strikes midnight.”

“I’ll find you well before that,” I promise him and then head inside.

Mazzy and Willa are on the couch, each holding a flute of the red punch. I once again hold up my finger asking them to give me a moment so I can grab one for myself.

Settling into a chair adjacent to them, I take a moment to look around. The living room is both beautiful and comfy with plush cream chenille furniture accented with throws and pillows in shimmering metallics, echoing the New Year’s theme. Remnants of Christmas remain with stockings hanging on the mantel alongside fresh pine garlands interspersed with small silver bells and twinkling fairy lights. Foster’s daughter, Bowie Jane, had to be wowed by how magical everything is, especially on Christmas Day when she woke up.

A massive Christmas tree stands in the corner, its branches adorned with a mix of traditional ornaments and crystal balls tucked between the branches. The gray ottoman in the center of the room is topped with a mirrored tray that reflects the light from votive candles and a centerpiece of winter white flowers surrounded by delicate silver tinsel.

My eyes land on Mazzy. “Your house is exquisite.”

“Foster’s house,” she says with a laugh. “I mean… I live here, but this is Foster’s house and well, it looked this way before I moved in. Minus the New Year’s decorations, that is, but everything else is all him.”

“Then let me correct myself… Foster has exquisite taste.”

Mazzy laughs. “Yes he does. He chose me, after all.”

I’d heard all about Mazzy and Foster’s love story. She was Bowie Jane’s nanny after Foster got custody of his daughter from his crazy ex-wife. And Willa and King met under unique circumstances as well—she was coaching peewee hockey and he took pity on her, helping her out. It was apparently true love after that.

I know all this because the three of us watched the Atlanta Sting game last week at Willa’s place, joined by her sister Brittany—who’s a hoot—and her adorable niece, Izzy, as well as Farren. We sipped wine, watched our men on the big screen and talked about anything and everything under the sun. We’ve all become fast friends.

“Why didn’t Farren come tonight?” Willa asks.

“I don’t know. At the last minute she said she wasn’t feeling it.”

I am worried about her. She seemed almost glum when we left but insisted we go and have fun.

Mazzy looks around, ensures we’re alone and says, “Spill it, Tempe. What’s going on with this bullshit doping allegation? Foster has been beside himself. I’ve only seen him this angry one other time and that’s when his ex showed up here and tried to take Bowie Jane.”

“Where is Bowie Jane?” I ask.

“At my house,” Willa says, waving her hand impatiently. “Brittany’s on babysitting duty. Now quit stalling.”

Laughing, I sip my drink and hum with approval. “Oh, that’s really good.”

“Spill it,” Mazzy orders with a stern look.

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