Page 108 of Brooklynaire

In a rare display of temper, Georgia closes the magazine and actually hurls it across the room, where it lands with a splat on the desk chair. “Becca, stop it. Nobody cares about chocolate with my name onit.”

“Fine. Little bottles of wine with yournames…”

“Stop!” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t care about favors. You are awesome, which is why I have a dress and flowers and a caterer but we aredone,okay?”

“Deep breaths. It was only game one. We can rebuildit.”

Our boys just lost to Dallas. Georgia screamed her heart out every time Brooklyn had the puck. I’m surprised she can still speak. But it wasn’t enough. Our boys didn’t play well, and Dallas took the first game. We’re both feelingmiserable.

Georgia gets up from the bed. She goes into the bathroom for her toothbrush, which she puts in her purse. “Look. I’m going to sneak into Leo’s room and see how he’s doing. You are welcome to stay here. You are also welcome to tell me what the hell is going on with you. For twenty-four hours you’ve been hounding me about wedding favors and I want to knowwhy.”

“Because the weddingis…”

She holds up a hand to cut me off, and her gaze is fierce. “Bec, cut the crap. Something happened and you haven’t told me what. But I havetheories.”

Oh boy. “Likewhat?”

“Something went wrong with Nate. And it’s probably not all his fault, or you would have told mealready.”

Well, ouch. I always knew Georgia was a smart girl. “I’m mad at him. But I’m alsoconfused.”

Her expression softens. “Tell mewhy.”

So I do. I tell her the whole sorry tale, about the hotel room and the medical bills. “I thought he listened. And then he just ignored what I’d said.” I wave the hotel manifest around like a crazyperson.

Georgia takes it out of my hand and scans it. “He puts Lauren in a suite sometimes when theytravel.”

“Not inhissuite.”

“Why is Nate’s name on a different room, then?” She points at the second column ofnames.

“What?” I snatch it out of her hand and read,Nathan Kattenberger: room 512. “But…” This makes no sense. “He asked me to stay in his suitewithhim.”

“And you said no.” Georgia’s voice is gentle—the way you address a crazy person. “So he switched them to give you thesuite.”

“Oh, fuck,” I whisper. “Iyelled.”

“Everyone yells sometimes. And he really should have asked before paying your doctor’s bills. Even if he did it because he loves you and cares what happens to your big stupidhead.”

With a groan I collapse on the comforter. “It is! Big and so stupid. But I don’t think I can make itsmarter.”

Georgia sits down beside me and pats my hand. “I think you’re just stressed out. In your defense, nothing about these last two months has been normal. You were injured and scared. Work has been really stressful. Your sister and her boy toy have taken over your apartment. That’s some big stuffhappening.”

“Nate confuses me. We’re not equals and we can never be equals and so I freak out every time I feelcornered.”

“Equals,” Georgia says slowly. “I don’t know if Iagree.”

“Oh, please. Don’t flatterme.”

“What makes me and Leo equals, though? What makesanyone?”

I lift my head and squint at her. “Neither you nor Leo runs theworld.”

“Well, it’s true that I couldn’t buy and sell a small country before breakfast tomorrow,” Georgia admits. “But maybe that doesn’t matter in Nate’s head at all. Maybe he’s just a guy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to climb into a Jacuzzi tub withhim.”

“Maybe,” I admit to thecomforter.

“It’s not like you to be intimidated by Nate. When you met him, were youintimidated?”