Jocelynâs hand and stuffed it inside her back pocket. âFriends donât let friends smoke.â
âI
really
wish youâd leave. Iâm not in the mood for your mouth today...â
Pretending she didnât hear her, Sharleen returned to the stove, whistling a tune. Arguing with Jocelyn would only make the situation worse, so she finished cooking breakfast and pretended not to notice her best friend glaring at her. Minutes later, she put the omelet on a plate, set it down on the table and said with a smile, âBon appétit.â
Jocelyn stared longingly at the pack of cigarettes.
âEat. Youâll feel better.â
âQuit bossing me around,â she snapped.
I wouldnât have to if you werenât acting like such a drama queen.
Deciding to give Jocelyn space, she returned to the sink and put on rubber gloves. Sharleen loaded the dishwasher, swept the floor and emptied the garbage, all the while thinking about Emilio. It was hard not to. There was something about him that appealed to her, that touched her in a profound way, and she was looking forward to meeting up with him at the conference that afternoon. âHereâs your coffee,â Sharleen said, putting the ceramic mug on the table.
âSorry for snapping at you, but Iâm having the day from hell.â
âDo you want to talk about it?â
Jocelyn shrugged. âWhatâs there to talk about? My life is ruined.â
âThere are other jobs and tons of great coaching centers right here in Atlanta.â
âI shouldnât have trusted Brad.â Her voice wobbled, cracked with emotion. âHow could I have been so stupid? So desperate that I didnât realize he was playing me?â
Frowning, Sharleen sat down. âWhat does Brad have to do with you getting fired?â
âI donât want to talk about it. Itâs too embarrassing.â
âWeâre friends. You can trust me.â
Jocelyn lowered her eyes to the floor and hugged her legs to her chest.
âIâd never betray you. You know that.â
âI...â She stumbled over her words and paused to gather herself. âI slept with Brad.â
âNo! Why? You hate him more than I do!â
âI know, but he showed up here with flowers and Chinese takeout on my birthday, and I caved. I was lonely, and for a while he helped me forget my problems.â
Guilt consumed Sharleen, made her feel low. This was all her fault. If sheâd spent last Monday night with Jocelyn, instead of working late, her friend wouldnât be in a miserable funk now. Sheâd make it up to her, would spare no expense. They were tighter than Gayle and Oprah, and Sharleen knew just what to do to lift her spirits. Front-row seats to the Rashad J concert were going to set her back hundreds of dollars, but Jocelyn was worth it. âYouâre fabulous, and donât let anyone tell you otherwise, especially that louse Brad.â
âI know, but I thought Iâd be married with two or three kids by now.â
Sharleen didnât know what to say. Theyâd had this conversation countless times before, as recently as last week, but nothing she said ever made Jocelyn feel better. So she just smiled sympathetically and nodded her head at the appropriate junctures.
âI donât expect you to understand. Youâre still in your twenties.â
âYouâre right,â Sharleen conceded, determined not to argue with her best friend. âI donât understand why youâre freaked about getting older, or why finding a husband is so important to you, but sleeping with Brad isnât the answer. Hooking up with a colleague is asking for trouble.â
âYou can say that again. Heâs a sloppy kisser, a selfish lover and a lousy lay.â
âIâm not surprised. Heâs got small feet
and
a huge ego!â
Jocelyn laughed, but the lighthearted reprieve didnât last
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