Page 15 of Captivating Mr. Second Chance

Bronte smiled and preened then pointed to the margaritas on the table. “I ordered you blood orange.”

“Perfect, thanks. Sorry I’m late.”

“Everything okay?” Bronte asked, sitting back down, ever concerned.

“Yeah, yeah.” She removed her coat and scarf. “I got caught up. Ethan was over.”

Bronte froze with her drink halfway to her mouth. “The high school heartbreaker?”

“Yes, but it was no big thing.” Laney reached for her own drink. “He and Dean hang out a lot, and we were talking, that’s all.”

At Bronte’s suspicious eyebrow, Laney rambled on. “He has an older brother he’s really close to, Justin, who was diagnosed with Huntington’s disease recently, and…” She paused for a sip of her margarita, avoiding Bronte’s gaze. “When we saw each other last week, it felt weird.”

“Wait.” Bronte held her hand up. “First of all, that’s really sad for Ethan’s brother and their family. Second of all, you didn’t tell us you saw him last week. I find it funny that you haven’t mentioned any of this.”

“Because there’s nothing to mention.”

Bronte pinned Laney with her teacher stare. “No, only that you’ve been like a zombie since you left Bobby except for that little twinkle in your eye when you mentioned Ethan.”

Laney rolled said eyes. “I do not twinkle.”

“All right.” Bronte held out her hand. “Let me see a photo of him.”

With nothing to hide, Laney grabbed her cell phone and opened up her Instagram app. Bronte had shunned all social media and was even more vigilant since she had married Chris “CJ” Cunningham, an A-list actor whom she’d met on a plane ride home from one of their girls’ trips, oddly enough. Since they’d gotten together, he’d gone from a Hollywood train wreck to a Pennsylvania homebody, filming small projects and working on his own production house. He and Bronte were sacred about their privacy, but at this point, he was really more of a stay-at-home husband with acting as a side gig.

Bronte scrolled through Ethan’s profile. “There aren’t many photos of him on here,” she said, noting the majority of nature pictures. “Is this him and his brother? They don’t look anything alike.”

Laney took in the photo. Ethan with his wide grin, stretching ear to ear, and his brother, who was shorter and much paler with sandy hair. “They’re both adopted.”

Bronte nodded and found another photo. “Aww, this one’s cute. Who’s this?”

Laney smiled at what had to be a picture from a few years ago, of Ethan holding a baby with a tiny afro. “That’s Justin’s kid, I think.”

Bronte went back to scrolling for a moment before tapping her thumbs a few times. She stuck her straw in her mouth, humming thoughtfully.

“What?”

“I’m reading his LinkedIn profile. He went to Princeton and studied abroad for two semesters in Germany and Argentina then earned his master’s in statistics.” She glanced up at Laney with a laugh. “He’d get along well with Jason.”

Laney ignored her implied meaning that Ethan would somehow be invited into their couple group, and that he’d have something in common with Jason since they were both in the STEM field. But there was no way that was happening. “I just broke up with Bobby. Let’s slow your roll, okay?”

“Okay.” Bronte lifted one hand in innocence and handed Laney’s phone back with the other. “So, how are you doing? And don’t say fine,” she said, beating Laney to the punch.

“I’m…” She cleared her throat, playing with her utensils. “I’m a little lost. I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going.”

Bronte pursed her lips. If any of the girls could understand that sentiment, it was Bronte, who had her life planned out in milliseconds and was thrown off by the tiniest of changes. “That’s okay, though. Take some time for yourself.”

Laney grimaced at the thought. She came from a family of people who didn’t know what taking “time for yourself” meant. Her father was a locally renowned orthodontist, her mother was the director of human resources for a national consulting firm, and her brother’s idea of a good time was coming home from his day job to renovate his house. Success was measured in money and title promotions in the Hargrove family.

She already felt like a leech staying at her brother’s house, but she didn’t know what else to do. Finding that condom in her trash had thrown her for quite a loop. All of her confidence had gone down the drain, along with her motivation.

“He keeps texting me,” Laney said, swirling her straw around her glass.

“Bobby?” Bronte’s normally low voice squeaked out her indignation. “About what?”

“Apologies. Saying that it’s the worst mistake of his life.”

“Laney…”

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