Chapter 301
**Sara**
"I hate both of you." I crossed my arms, slumping further into the couch.
"No, you don't." Jessica poked my ribs. "You love us because we're the only ones brave enough to tell you the truth."
"Yeah, well, maybe I need less truth and more supportive lying from my friends." I swatted her hand away. "Like 'Don't worry Sara, everything's fine' or 'You're totally making the right choices.'"
"Okay." Jessica cleared her throat and adopted a sickly-sweet tone. "Don't worry, Sara, everything's fine while you pretend not to be head over heels for the hot billionaire who's probably getting his measurements taken for a wedding tux right now-"
I launched another pillow at her face. "That's not helping!"
"Neither is your denial." Emily picked up the fallen pillow. "Seriously, what are you so afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid!" The words came out too fast, too defensive. "I'm just being careful."
"Careful?" Jessica snorted. "You're being paranoid. The man looks at you like you hung the moon and stars."
"He does not-"
She rolled her eyes. "I've seen security footage less focused than his gaze when you're around."
"That's..." I fumbled for words. "That's just how he looks at people."
"Right." Emily nodded solemnly. "I'm sure he makes heart-shaped breakfast for everyone."
"They weren't heart-shaped on purpose!"
"Keep telling yourself that." Jessica patted my knee. "Meanwhile, some trust fund baby named Bunny is probably practicing her signature with his last name."
"Nobody names their kid Bunny."
"Wanna bet? Rich people are weird. Remember that heiress in the news last week? The one who named her kid 'Yacht'?"
"You're making that up."
"Google it!" She waved her phone. "Rich people giving their kids crazy names is, like, a whole thing."
"Tom would never marry someone named Yacht." I paused. "Or Bunny. Or Muffy."
"No," Emily agreed. "Because he's too busy making heart-shaped pancakes for someone else."
"They weren't-" I stopped myself. "You know what? Fine. Think whatever you want about the pancakes."
"Oh, we will." Jessica grinned. "We'll think about the pancakes and the way he looks at you and how you get all squeaky when we bring up dating him-"
"I do not get squeaky!"
"You're squeaking right now!"
"Am not!" My voice definitely didn't crack on those words. Definitely not.
"Ladies," Emily held up her hands. "Can we focus on the real issue here? Sara's in denial about her feelings, Tom's got a deadline, and somewhere out there is a debutante ball full of potential Mrs. Blackwoods."
My stomach lurched. "You're not helping."
"Actually, I am." Emily leaned forward. "Because while you're sitting here throwing pillows and denying everything, time's ticking away. And trust me, those society moms? They can smell an eligible bachelor from miles away."
"Like sharks," Jessica added helpfully. "But with better jewelry."
I grabbed the last intact pillow and screamed into it.
"See?" Jessica poked me again. "Total normal reaction to discussing someone you're definitely not in love with."
I emerged from the pillow to glare at her. "I hate you so much right now."
"Nah." She grinned. "You love me. Almost as much as you love-"
"Don't say it!"
"-your pancake-making professor!"
I flopped face-first onto the couch. "That's it. I'm getting new friends. Maybe ones who don't psychoanalyze my breakfast."
"Good luck finding anyone who'll put up with your denial." Jessica patted my head. "We're kind of a rare breed."
"More like a rare pain in my-"
"Language!" Emily cut in. "Besides, you know we're right."
I rolled over to stare at the ceiling. "Can we talk about literally anything else? World peace? Climate change? The economic impact of-"
"Nope!" Jessica popped the 'p' sound. "Not until you admit you're in love with him."
"I'm not-"
"The pancakes, Sara. The pancakes don't lie."
I shot up straight, nearly knocking over Jessica's empty mug. "Okay, that's enough pancake analysis for one lifetime. Can we just forget about all this and see how things play out?"
"See how things play out?" Jessica's jaw dropped. "That's your master plan?"
"Yes!" I smoothed my blouse, trying to look more composed than I felt. "Look, even if - and that's a big if - I wanted to date him, it's not like I can make that decision alone. Tom has to want it, too."
"Oh please-" Jessica started.
I held up my hand. "No, let me finish. We've got months before this whole marriage deadline thing becomes an issue. And maybe..." I picked at a loose thread on my sleeve. "Maybe we both need time to figure out what we want."
"But-"
"Besides," I cut her off again, "for all we know, he could decide tomorrow that he'd rather date someone named Chartreuse, who breeds show ponies."
Jessica snorted. "Now you're just making up rich people's names."
"I bet there's at least three Chartreuses at every country club." I grinned. "Probably all wearing matching tennis outfits."
Emily tapped her chin thoughtfully. "She's got a point, though."
"About the Chartreuses?" Jessica asked.
"No, you idiot." Emily threw a stray feather at her. "About letting things develop naturally. We can't force them into something just because we think it's obvious."
"Thank you!" I gestured at Emily. "See? Someone gets it."
"Don't get too excited," Emily warned. "I still think you're both being ridiculous, but at least your ridiculous has some logic to it."
"I'll take it." I flopped back onto the couch. "Now, can we please talk about literally anything else?"
"Fine." Jessica sighed dramatically. "But I reserve the right to say 'I told you so' when you end up fighting Chartreuse for custody of the show ponies."
"Deal." I grabbed the pillow and hugged it. "Now, who wants to hear about the weird thing Mark did at work yesterday?"
"Ooh, workplace drama!" Jessica clapped her hands. "Much better than relationship drama."
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