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“Indeed.” Ms. Bradford glances at Cher, who spares her a timid smile.

Honestly, I don’t believe it for a second.

“Like you and Alessa, we’re taking things one day at a time,” Ms. Bradford continues. “Who knows. Maybe we’ll hold a double wedding day in the office where we all met.”

“You tell me the date, Presley, and we’ll get right on it.”

“I’ll get back to you about that.”

I put my wine glass down before I choke on it. “Anyone mind telling me where the nearest restroom is?” I gotta get away from this awkward mess for a few minutes.

Cher is the first to toss her napkin down and scoot back her chair. “I’ll show you. There’s one down the hall.”

Ms. Bradford only pays her little attention. “The one next to my office?”

“That’s the one. It’s fine, right?”

She waves her off and talks to Julianna about how to approach an upcoming meeting.

I follow Cher back into the airy manor. One maid walks toward us with a tray of cut fruit, but otherwise, nobody interrupts us as we head down the hall toward Ms. Bradford’s office and adjacent bathroom.

Cher opens the door from the hallway. “Careful with this door,” she says as I go in. “Sometimes it sticks. If that happens, you can go through Presley’s office. She won’t care.”

I don’t think anything about it as I shut the door behind me and lock it for good measure. I hear Cher’s footsteps go back down the hall, and I’m left to do my business.

As if it had been planned all along, I can’t get the damn door open again.

Trust me, I’ve jiggled this handle a billion times. A time for every dollar in Julianna’s coffers. Sheesh. You’d think with all her money, Ms. Bradford could get this fixed. Oh, well. Cher said I could go through the office, so I think I’ll do that. The other door in here – or at least the one that doesn’t open to a linen closet, as I discover – leads to the immaculate parlor of a woman who doesn’t use it a whole lot. I bet the upstairs office is way messier, based on what Julianna has said about Ms. Bradford’s habits.

It’s small, but well-lit thanks to the alcove overlooking a tulip garden. The large desk is cleaned off aside from a small stack of journals and an assortment of fountain pens. No laptop, not that I should be looking.

There is, however, a small box on one of the chairs in front of the desk.

A box with a familiar pair of underwear in it. I would know, because they’re mine.

The lingerie I was wearing when Julianna and I first hooked up. I had let her keep them as some stupid token. At the time, Ithought she was keeping them as a trophy, and I was so addled that I didn’t think twice about it. After all, they are simple undies.

But I know they’re mine because of the neon yellow stamp on the back saying who made it, the size, and proudly announcing how they were created right here in America.

What in theworldare they doing here?

Wait…

Hadn’t Cher said…

I had completely dismissed it at the time, and honestly, hadn’t thought of it until now.

What had she said? Something about Ms. Bradford betting Julianna that she couldn’t bed whatever woman was sent to her? That I was the lucky candidate? That she had kept my undies as proof that she fucked me?

No way. That was Cher beingCher. But if she had been right about being in a relationship with Ms. Bradford…

I find a handwritten note beside my underwear. By now, I know it’s Ms. Bradford’s penmanship.“Return to Jules next time she comes by. Don’t forget this time, Pres.”

I feel sick. Really,reallysick.

Chapter 41

Julianna