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squealed and her little hand flew out and slapped me.

“I know, I did screw that up, didn’t I?”

14

Mel

I’m a skanky hoe. I am.

I almost kissed a man who wasn’t my boyfriend.

Well, technically, he almost kissed me. But I would have kissed him back! And I’d wanted him to kiss me. I’d wanted him to touch me and kiss me and cart me off to some romantic, secluded spot and make love to me under the stars.

I felt a connection to Mac, the kind of connection I’d been trying so hard to form with Adam. I never totally blamed Adam. In fact, I blamed myself more than him. I’d never felt a deep soul-level type of connection to a man, and I’d known more than a few smokin’ hot A-listers during my celebrity days. None had ignited the fires of passion in me the way Mac the firefighter did. There’s irony for you.

Adam was a good-looking guy. Ugh! I’d been with Adam for almost a year, yet I’d never felt for Adam anything like I’d felt for Mac tonight. And we hadn’t even actually crossed that friendship line.

I sent an SOS text to Ingrid. Then I remembered she was probably having the time of her life at Mimi’s with the fire department and sent a cancel-the-SOS text.

I was sprawled across the bed in the B&B lamenting my situation when the door burst open.

“Ahh!” I jerked upright and let out an embarrassing scream. “Oh my god! What are you doing?”

Ingrid frowned and leveled me with a look. She didn’t appear to have been having as good a night as I imagined. “You sent me an SOS text.”

“And I canceled it! I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Do you see this face?” Her finger drew an imaginary circle around her face. “I only wish you would’ve texted me an hour ago. That whole outing was a damp squib.” She fell back on my bed next to me and pouted. “Your brother’s a wanker.”

“I’ve been telling you.”

I was used to Ingrid’s use of British slang. Even though she’d grown up in Syracuse with her mother, whose own British accent had never quite faded, Ingrid’s summers were spent with her father in England. Every year when she came home to the States, her accent was stronger than ever. “What’d he do?”

“No, no. I’m sorry.” She squeezed my hand. “This isn’t about me and my stupid one-sided obsession for your brother, who literally wants nothing to do with me. This is about you. Talk.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m always willing to talk about how stupid my brother is.”

“Same-old, same-old. Tell me what happened.”

I sighed. “I have to break up with Adam.”

“Yesssss!” She sat up and fist-pumped the air, then leaped to her feet. “That is what I have been telling you!” Her words were punctuated by her index finger as it jabbed the air. She let out a cheer, then seemed to remember herself. Her face dropped into a mock pout that would have fooled no one. “I mean, oh? What’s wrong, dear? Whyever do you think that?”

I hid a grin. “You’re an ass.”

“I’m quite aware of that fact. But we’re discussing you. Tell me why you’ve finally come to your senses.”

“The firefighter. Mac. I almost kissed him.” I held up my thumb and forefinger. “I came this close. Or he almost kissed me. But I almost let him. I wanted him to. Twice.” I sucked in a breath. “Whether anything comes of this, whatever it is between me and Mac, the fact remains I have more feelings for Mac, a guy I’ve known for all of a couple of days, than Adam, whom I’ve been dating for almost a year. Adam Moro is not my future. Mac… Mac… Oh, shit, I don’t even know his last name.”

Ingrid remained silent for a few seconds, leaving me to worry about how she was going to respond.

“That is his last name. His full name is Hamish MacGregor. It’s Scottish, but he’s gone by Mac since he was a child.”

My jaw dropped.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. Did you think I wouldn’t investigate the man? I got the whole scoop, and you could do way worse. In fact, you are doing way worse—with Adam. He’s always been beneath you, and marrying a man because you don’t want to enter your golden years without a partner is rubbish.”

“There’s more to it than that, Ingrid. I was worried about you too. You work for them. I met him through you.”

She scoffed. “You think they’re going to fire me because you’re dumping his whiny, spoiled, privileged arse?”

“Yes, I do. He’s incredibly petty.”

“Finally, you admit it!” She slapped my arm and laughed. “And I thought marrying because you’re getting older was a poor reason. Marrying so your friend doesn’t lose her job is so much worse. Have more faith in me, Melody.”

She was right. It was a stupid reason. If they tried to fire Ingrid for such a stupid reason, I would help her fight it. I sat up and grabbed my phone. “I’m going to do it.”

“What?”

I looked at her and held up my phone waving it in the air. “I’m going to break it off. If you’re sure you’re prepared to handle the fallout. If they fire you, I’ll help. I’ll hire a lawyer. We’ll sue.”

She hid a grin behind her hand and shook her head. “No, no. I won’t be suing if they fire me. I mean, I’ve been nicking office supplies for the last three months and I’m pretty sure they know it. I’ve practically got my own Office Max. I’m fairly certain the only reason I haven’t been fired yet is because of you.”

I shook my head. “That’s criminal behavior, you know that?”

“I need an intervention. I can’t help myself. I hate them and I love office supplies! You know what? It doesn’t matter. Call your boyfriend and make him your ex-boyfriend. Pleeease! I can’t wait to hear this. That tallywacker deserves it.”

“Should we

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