Page 80 of Dr. Off Limits

Sutton

Chopping onions was therapeutic. That’s what I’d told myself when Parker had assigned me the job. She and Tristan were hosting dinner for her and some of Tristan’s friends. I’d gotten to meet a number of them over the last few months, but hadn’t gotten to chat much with a couple of them. They all seemed lovely. I just could have done with a night in with Parker and a tub of Haagen Dazs. I was dreading telling her about Jacob. I didn’t want to bring it all up in my thoughts again. The last few days, I’d managed to push them down and keep myself busy. As soon as I told Parker, I knew we would discuss nothing else for the rest of the evening.

“How many more?” I asked.

“We need five all together,” Parker said as she busied herself butchering a chicken.

“Five onions is a lot of onions,” I said.

“Tristan has a lot of friends. Well, they’re our friends now,” she said, smiling. “Not that anyone will ever replace you.”

“Better not.”

“Of course not. They’re your friends, too.”

“Is Tristan my boyfriend too?” I smiled at her.

“You already have one of your own.”

I kept my smile in place just long enough to be interrupted by the doorbell.

“That will be Stella. You’ve met her, right?”

I nodded and glanced at the clock over the door. “She’s really early.” It was only five and I thought things were kicking off at seven.

“She’s having the day off work and said she was bored, so I invited her over for pre-game drinks. I hope that’s okay.”

I nodded. The idea of a dinner party with a bunch of couples was my own very special brand of hell, but Parker was my friend and I wasn’t going to not come just because my heart was broken. A wave of regret rose in my stomach and crashed to my knees. Not regret for making the decision to end things but regret that the decision was unavoidable. Regret that Jacob’s boyish optimism hadn’t carried us through as I’d let myself hope that it might. Regret that I’d let myself get a little bit too comfortable—I should have known better. Now I was to face an evening with a bunch of couples when I’d broken up from the only man who I’d ever felt was completely in my corner. The only man who made me feel like I wasn’t dating up, despite him being clever and kind and brilliant and everything I could ever have dreamed up.

Parker burst back into the kitchen. “Stella’s brought champagne. Not that we don’t have enough already.”

“Sorry, I must stink of onions,” I said as I waved.

“Oh, we have to hug, onions or no onions,” Stella said, rounding the kitchen island and pulling me into her arms.

Stella was blonde and beautiful and the kind of woman whose appearance made me reassess my wardrobe choices—effortlessly stylish but not overdone.

“You two carry on with what you’re doing. I’ll get some champs opened and then you can give me a job.” She pulled out a bottle of champagne from the tote she was carrying and set it on the side, then headed to the cabinet with the wine glasses in them. She must come here a lot. I felt a pang of jealousy. Did she and Parker have girls’ nights I wasn’t aware of?

“Oh, I saw the details of the house Dexter sent you,” she said. “It’s so great. And in Hampstead, which I know you wanted. Even though I want you to move to Mayfair.”

Parker shook her head. “We have our hearts set on Hampstead. I’d never see anything of Sutton otherwise. And of course, I love the area.”

Stella popped the cork and poured the first glass of champagne.

“We’re going to view it on Saturday.”

This was news to me. Parker hadn’t said anything about a house viewing.

“Beck and I will come with you. That way, Beck can tell you all about what the potential of the place is like. You’re never going to find something perfect, but as long as you can adapt it...”

The two of them went back and forth about non-negotiables and what was important in a house. Their voices started to fade out and all I could focus on was the ball of jealousy in my heart. I’d never been jealous of Parker before. She’d grown up with a family who loved her and more money that I could even dream about, but I’d never felt envious of her.

Until now, as she was discussing her requirements for the perfect house with her perfect friend in her already perfect kitchen as I helped her prepare the perfect meal for all her other perfect friends. And I hated myself for wanting all that for myself too.

I tried to focus on getting the onion chopped as finely as I could, one slice after another after another and another.

“Sutton?” Parker said.

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