Trish handed a card attached to a chain to Marla and sniffed back some tears.

My emotions swirled furiously. Anger, denial, hatred, and guilt raced through my thoughts, each trying to dominate. Ryan was speechless, searching for a good comeback that failed to surface.

I had to do something.

“Um, Ryan? I believe Trish is now a free agent,” I stated. “And she is more than qualified to handle your PR.” I gave him one of our private signals, darting my eyes at Marla briefly and scratching my chin, conveying the message that he should tell her to go to hell. His eyes brightened and he nodded.

“Yes . . . yes she is,” Ryan confirmed.

“And you just so happen to be looking for new representation.” That’s right, honey. Tell her off. Marla could shove it deep where the sun doesn’t shine. We might not be able to save Trish completely, but I was going to make damn sure she at least walked away with her dignity.

“We’re done here, right?” he asked Marla, dismissing her as if she were no longer of importance.

It was extremely enjoyable to watch Marla’s face crumble in defeat. How I wished I could have videotaped it so we could watch it over and over again for laughs.

Ryan clutched my hand in his and glanced at his empty beer bottle. “What do you say, ladies—time to discuss Trish’s new salary over a few shots of tequila? That is if you want to work for me.”

Trish grinned from ear to ear. “Hell yeah!” she said enthusiastically.

“You can’t do that,” Marla said with failed authority.

Ryan smirked at her. “Watch me.”

After two hours of schmoozing with people I didn’t know, I felt awful for not paying any attention to my friends. I searched the room for them, only to notice that one of my friends was sitting at an empty table.

“Hey, why are you sitting here all by yourself?” I asked Pete. I sat down in the chair next to him.

Pete looked confused. “I’m not alone. Gary just went to the men’s room.”

“Oh. Where are the girls?” I looked around for Marie and Tammy.

Pete pointed to a far corner. “They’re over there yappin’. Gary is really pissed that Marie keeps touching that guy in the black shirt. You might want to say something to her before it gets ugly. He’s kind of drunk.”

I looked over and saw my two best friends laughing heartily with a group of people. I didn’t know who the guy was, but he had short-cropped brown hair and looked like a male model from this distance. I hadn’t been able to spend much time with my friends since we arrived, but I did notice Gary sitting at this table, scowling all night.

“I’ll take care of it—in a minute.” I craned my neck to get a better view. “That’s Marcia Gay Harden on Tammy’s left. She played the principal, remember?”

Pete nodded but I could tell that he really didn’t care. He wasn’t impressed by celebrities unless they were wearing football or baseball uniforms. He actually looked tired and ready for bed. I could relate.

“Where’s Ryan?”

I nodded in his general direction. “Over there. He’s talking to Edward Zwick.” Pete looked lost. “The director?”

“Ooh, he’s talking to the director,” Pete said in a teasing tone, like the simple fact that my fiancé was holding court with the who’s-who of Hollywood was no biggie. Pete’s face turned serious. “Are you sure you’re up for all of this?” His eyes bore into mine, trying to read me.

I chewed on my lip as I pondered his question. The room was so full of wealth and pretentiousness, we were both feeling out of place.

“I know what you’re trying to say, but all of this really isn’t Ryan, either. He’s uncomfortable with this, too, you know.”

Pete nodded, mostly agreeing with me.

“Besides, maybe all of this is who I’m supposed to be. I’ve just been going through the motions for so long now, running the bar out of—out of guilt.” I huffed. “If my dad were still alive, I’d probably be sitting behind some desk in Manhattan being completely miserable instead of being here.”

“Yeah,” Pete concurred. “Probably. Although you could have had your own fame, you know.”

A tiny “gah” sound squeaked out. “Yeah right.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Taryn. You know damn well I speak the truth. But instead of trying to model, you let those idiots in school make you feel unworthy.”

Memories of being singled out and bullied, enduring relentless taunting because I had bigger boobs than most and had a chubby boy for a best friend, weren’t things I wanted to think about right now. Even Marie and Melanie questioned why I stuck around with Pete so much back then. But none of their opinions mattered more than what Pete had mattered to me. He was the only person who came to my rescue when Emily Howard pushed me down on the playground on the first day of school, and for years he was the brother I’d never had.

By the time we reached high school, Pete slimmed down, grew taller, and joined the wrestling team, but one thing remained the same—he always had my back. He was and still is my best friend.

Pete waved a finger around. “Over two dozen heads turned when you walked over here. I’m surprised you didn’t trip over a few drooling tongues along the way. I was afraid I’d have to kick some ass to fend them off.”

“Shut up.”

“No, you shut up!”

Pete seemed amused. “I think that’s what I love the most about you, kid. You’re the most self-deprecating person I know, even though you have absolutely no reason to be.”

I winced. How absurd. “Everyone’s just curious to see who was able to capture Ryan’s attention, that’s all.”

“See? You can’t even take a compliment about not being able to take compliments. You’ve always been an enigma, Ms. Mitchell. A complete contradiction.”

I bristled with fake horror. “Did you just call me an enema?”

“Yep. You’re a total pain in my ass.”

I laughed at our banter. We had always had this easy friendship, even lasting while he was madly in love with Melanie, the sister of my ex, Thomas. Throughout the years I often pretended Pete and I were really brother and sister, separated by a tragic mix-up in the hospital. He was always there for me no matter what, watching over me like a brother should.

Something caught his eye. “Ryan is a good man . . . a real good man, Taryn. I’m glad everything worked out. You finally picked one that doesn’t trigger my urge to bash his head in.”

I smirked at his lording. “Thanks.” It warmed my heart to know that Pete and Ryan had a lot of respect for each other.

The niggling memory of just seven days ago, when I thought Ryan’s parents had come to move him out of the apartment, crept back into my thoughts. “I just wish one of you would have told me what was going on.”

Pete’s attention averted to his drink but it was time we had this talk. “I almost did. I came close to spilling the beans a few times. I couldn’t stand seeing you in so much pain. Just know . . . it killed me.”

“So why didn’t you?”

He swirled the ice in his glass, hesitating. “Truth? Because I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if Ryan would actually do it or not. I mean, he told us he was going to. Hell, he even asked us all for our blessing. But then you two were touch-and-go there for a few days and . . .”

He straightened up and looked me in the eyes. “If we would have told you he was going to propose and then he didn’t . . . God . . . I just couldn’t do that to you, Taryn.”

I rubbed my hand gently, briefly over his shoulder, trying to alleviate his obvious remorse. “I understand. I . . . I just feel like such an idiot, carrying on the way I did. Seeing him kiss Lauren in that restaurant and that freakin’ note . . . it was so convincing. I know I should have never doubted him, but standing there watching it, it was like reliving the Thomas nightmare all over again. Only this time, it hurt a million times worse.”

Pete’s lips curled into a familiar, sympathetic smile.