Page 13 of That Friendzone Feeling

Herphone pings, and she picks it up off the nightstand.

Istep over the threshold. “Youknow what they say about never going to sleep on an arg—”

Herface drops as she looks at the phone.

“Issomething wrong?”Iask.

Shespins around and rushes past me. “It’sDominique.Shesays to turn on the news.”

Dominiqueis our chief financial officer.

IfollowEmilyinto the living area to find her bent over the sofa, patting at the cushions. “Wherethe hell is the remote?”

“Noidea.”Iscan the sofa and the table. “Inodded off.Itcould have fallen anywhere.”

Shedrops to her hands and knees and looks under the sofa.TheT-shirt slides far enough up her legs to reveal the edges of pink underwear.

“Gotit,” she says, retrieving the remote and clicking it at theTVas she sits down.

Theblack-and-white movie people are replaced by news footage of a man in a suit, his hands cuffed behind his back, being marched out of one of the fanciest apartment buildings on theUpperEastSideby large men wearingFBIjackets.

“Holyshit.”Theremote hits the floor again asEmilyleans forward, her eyes wide.Sheslams a hand against her—clearly braless—chest. “Shit.”

Thecaption across the bottom of the screen under theBreakingNewsbanner says, “VentureCapitalistArrestedonFraud,EmbezzlementandInsiderTradingCharges.”

“That’squite the roll call of financial crimes.Whois he?”

Emilyjumps to her feet. “Whoishe?” she exclaims likeI’vejust asked her how to make beer. “Howcan you not know who that is?”Shepoints at the screen in case there’s any doubt who she’s referring to. “That’sMarcusfuckingSt.Clair.”

“Oh, fuck.”Nowmy eyes are as wide as hers as the biggestFBIguy puts his hand onMarcus’shead and pushes him into the back of a large black car. “Sorry.It’sthe first timeI’veseen him.”ItwasEmilywho took all the meetings, andIdon’t followWallStreetnews. “Ijust signed the papers you put in front of me.”

“Thiscould be the end ofToastedTomato,Walker.”

Itcould be.Itreally could be.Butthis timeIam going to deny a cold, hard fact.

Ihead toward her and round the end of the sofa. “We’llbe fine.We’llfigure it out.”

Shemight hate me today.Shemight be weirded out by me kissing her last night.Imight still be weirded out by how it made me feel.Butshe’s still my best friend.Stillmy partner in all things.AndstillEmily.

Iput my arm around her and pull her to my side as we both stare at the black car driving away on theTVscreen. “We’llfind someone else.Thereare always other investors.”Arethere?Ihave no idea.

“Nottomorrow we won’t.Withoutthat guy, we’re onthe hook for the whole resort.Everysingle bill.Andwe can’t afford the whole thing.That’swhy we needed someone to back it in the first place.”

Herexpression quickly morphs from shock and horror to pain. “Ifthis finishes us off, it’ll all be my fault.Itwas me who thought he was the perfect investor.”Shedrops her head into her hands. “Ican’t tell my parents.”

Well, at least this has taken our minds off the hellish kiss thing.

4

EMILY

“I

wish you’d told me we were coming here.I’dhave worn pants.”

Unableto lift my leg high enough in this slim-fit dress,Ibend double to tie my rented bowling shoes.

“Ifthere was ever a time we needed to come to our thinking place, it’s now,”Walkersays.