Page 25 of Spooked

“Before you go, I need to apologise for everything that happened between us over Carissa. You were right, and I was wrong. I only wish I’d listened.”

Grey set off toward the door that led to the terrace, nodding for Brax to follow. On a normal day, visitors bought drinks and snacks from the small café to eat at bistro tables scattered between topiary bushes and fragrant flowers, but tonight, the caterers had set up a champagne fountain and platters of hors d’oeuvres.

“I always knew you’d regret marrying her. That’s why I refused to be your best man, not because I was an asshole or jealous or stuck in the past, which I believe were all things you accused me of.”

Although Carissa had barely spent any time at Blackstone House—she’d said the place was creepy and had too many spiders—she’d studied for her MBA at Georgetown, so the three of them knew each other from business school. Grey had disliked her from the get-go.

“I wasn’t entirely wrong on the ‘asshole’ part.”

A shrug. “Perhaps. I realise now that I could have been more diplomatic.” Grey accepted two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Brax. “And I take no satisfaction from being right.”

“You’re lying again.”

“Maybe. Send me an invite to the divorce party. I’ll be at your side for that one.”

“It might be a long wait.”

“You need a good lawyer?”

He was referring to himself, of course. After they finished their bachelor’s degrees, Grey had stayed at Georgetown for law school and then passed the bar exam on the first attempt, but following work on several high-profile cases, he’d decided that his future lay in politics. A week ago, he’d been sworn in as congressman for the tenth district of Virginia.

“I should have gotten you to read the prenup before I signed it. Congratulations on the new job, by the way.”

“Thanks. The prenup—how bad is it?”

Nearly eight years had passed since they’d spoken properly, but Brax remembered why he’d once considered Grey to be among his closest friends. Blackstone House had been an oversized hovel full of strangers brought together by one thing—desperation—and they’d grown into allies. Okay, so Jerry had mostly kept to herself, and Alexa wasn’t really a people person, but everyone had gotten along. And Brax had fucked up. He owed Grey a proper explanation, even if it was too late to repair the friendship they’d once had.

“It’s bad.” Brax summarised the agreement, his enforced celibacy, and the fact that the trio of PIs tailing Carissa couldn’t catch her out. Ditto for the men he’d hired to seduce her—a masseur, a tennis coach, and a fake entrepreneur so far. “I’m basically fucked.”

“Quite the opposite, I would say. But you’re right. Youshouldhave gotten me to read that agreement. I’d have put it in the shredder where it belonged.”

“When you’re in love, you do stupid things, not that you’d know anything about that.”

“Bachelorhood suits me. If I decide to run for president, then I might consider getting married.”

“Because it looks better for the voters?”

“Exactly. Polls show the majority are more likely to trust a family man.”

“A family man? You’re saying you’d bring kids into your charade?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“And you thinkmysex life is messed up?”

“What sex life?”

“Touché. My only consolation is that Carissa’s not getting screwed either. With her impossibly high standards, she wouldn’t go for a nameless hookup.”

“Actually, she would.”

Brax looked at his old friend sharply. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Many, many things. In this instance, I know that Carissa once hooked up with some guy named Tony in a bar and left before morning.”

Brax nearly spat his drink across the terrace. “What? When?”

“Before you got married, so no luck there.”

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