Turns out it wasn’t as big of a party as I thought it was going to be, only eight couples were invited. During the meal some of Blaire’s staff brought in an extra table in the dining room and we split up, four couples per table. Thankfully, Brody made sure we weren’t sitting at Blaire’s table.

Dinner was actually really good. She made lamb chops topped with gorgonzola butter, garlic mashed potatoes and crisp asparagus. It wasn’t something I would have thrown a party and hired valets for, but she was trying and deserved a little credit. During the meal, I met a really sweet woman named Chelsea, who also happened to have twins. Apparently she and Blaire were in the same book club. We hit it off really well. It was nice to have someone else to talk to while Brody was busy arguing about the upcoming football season with the other guys. Talking about the girls made missing them a little easier to handle.

After dinner, I noticed people started clearing out quickly, partially due to Blaire’s escalating tone. I could hear her getting louder and louder in her storytelling, and that witch cackle she had was impossible to ignore. Twice I saw Andy whisper something in her ear while trying to take her wine glass, to which she objected by pushing him off and laughing.

Before I knew it Andy, Blaire, Chelsea, her husband Tom, Brody and myself were the only ones there. While the guys were talking in the den, Chelsea and I moved to the kitchen and were standing at the island, chatting and sipping coffee when Blaire came clomping up.

“What are you two blabbing about?” She slurred as she swished her wine glass around.

“Books … and kids.” Chelsea looked my way and smiled sweetly, then turned back to Blaire. “We both have twins—how cool is that?”

Blaire’s jaw dropped as she focused on me. “You have kids?”

My whole body tensed, my heart raced around in circles inside my chest as I silently begged for Brody to come in and tell me it was time to go.

“Yep,” I squeaked out, my voice shakier than I meant for it to be. I cleared my throat and continued, “My twins are 5. Both girls.”

“Where’s their father?” she demanded boldly.

“Uh, not sure.”

“You’re not sure?” Her voice raised in accusatory disbelief. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Oh God, Brody, where are you?

“Oh … I get it.” Her eyes grew wide as a smirk crawled slowly across her face. “Single mom hits the jackpot with professional athlete.”

Chelsea interrupted. “Come on, Blaire, that’s not fair.”

“Oh shut it, Chels,” Blaire snapped. “You know nothing about this girl, neither do I—other than she has terrible taste in men.”

“Blaire…” Chelsea continued half-heartedly, while I stood wishing I could morph myself into one of the flat slate tiles beneath our feet and disappear forever.

“It’s a good idea, I don’t completely blame you…” Blaire walked over to the bar and topped off her wine glass, continuing her onslaught. “But seriously, you couldn’t find a better guy? Did you just grab the first one you found, or what? If it were me, I would have picked one that hasn’t fucked half of Minneapolis.”

Her words punched me in the chest like a champion boxer forcing me to hold onto the counter to keep from reeling backwards toward the ropes. What was she talking about? Brody said he’d never really ever done the girlfriend thing.

She seemed to notice my panic and fed off of it. “Did you know that? You’re not the first girl he’s taken somewhere, honey. Did you think you were special? It’ll be someone else next week.” She took a long swig of her wine, her eyes locked on me. “Hell, it was someone else just a couple weeks ago. He’s been screwing my friend Kendall on and off for years. She told me she texted him this weekend, but he didn’t answer … guess now we know why, huh?” She cocked an eyebrow and raised her glass at me.

Chelsea reached behind the counter and apologetically squeezed my hand as she called into the den. “Tom, think we better get going!”

Please, Brody, follow him in here. Please.

I should have said something. I know I should have said something, but the fact of the matter was that I didn’t know Brody that well yet, so defending him was pointless. I had nothing to argue back. Plus, a little part of me still wanted to win Andy over and screaming at his wife wouldn’t earn me any points.

“Oh, don’t leave because of me, Chelsea. I’ll stop. I just thought she should know who she’s getting involved with. Crawling into bed with a rattlesnake might be safer.” She laughed to herself, looking down at her drink as she swirled it around.

The guys came in the room and Brody looked at me curiously, instantly sensing something was wrong. I quickly shook my head to prevent him from asking anything and tilted my head toward the door. He pulled his brows together in a frown and walked over, pulling me in close.

“You okay?” he asked quietly in my ear.

I couldn’t answer; I just nodded.

“So, Brody … how’s Kendall?” Blaire cackled.

Brody’s face reddened with anger. “What the hell’s going on here?” he said, looking back and forth between Blaire and me.

“Nothing,” I pleaded, laying my hand on his heaving chest. “Can we just go, please?”

Blaire hiccupped. “I was just having a nice little chat here with Katie, or whatever her name is, about what and who you like to do in the off season. Thought she might want to know all that before she and her little darlings get too involved.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Andy ordered, lunging for her glass, but before he could grab it, she snapped her hand back fast, sending the burgundy liquid dripping down the front of my ice blue dress.

“Oh no!” Chelsea gasped as she ran to the counter for paper towels.

“Are you okay?” Brody turned, trying to brush the excess liquid off of me, onto the floor.

A lump formed in my throat, and I knew the tears wouldn’t be far behind. “I just want to go, okay? Can we please go? Now?” I begged in a whisper.

“Oh God, she’s fine!” Blaire rolled her eyes as she walked over to her purse on the counter. “Here,” she said, pulling a wad of money out of her wallet. “This should cover the dress, okay?” With that she tossed a twenty-dollar bill across the counter and winked at me.

Brody snapped.

“Listen to me, you miserable bitch…” He took a step forward, shielding me from any more of Blaire’s looks or words. “You can say whatever you want to me or about me, but Kacie is off limits. Got it?”

Her eyes blinked rapidly as she stared at him with a blank expression on her face. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door before he turned back one more time.

“And you might want to remember when you’re looking down your fake, plastic nose at her, that it’s her boyfriend’s hockey contract that pays for this fucking house of yours. Your husband will always be my best friend, but that doesn’t mean he has to be my agent. Consider yourself warned.”

The drive home from Andy and Blaire’s was the longest forty minutes of my life. I apologized to Kacie about a thousand times, and while she smiled at me, all she kept saying was, “It’s fine.” Growing up, my mom and dad would occasionally go at it, and every time she told him, “it’s fine,” he either slept on the couch or bought flowers the next day. When it comes to women, “fine” is bad. Very, very bad.