Half Empty (First Wives, #2)(84)

“Do you have more of that?” Avery pointed to her drink.

“Is it okay with the medication you’re taking?”

“So long as you don’t plan on taking advantage of me, I’m sure one glass isn’t going to hurt.”

Sadly, Trina knew firsthand how true that statement was.

“Fine.”

She crossed to the bar to pour her friend a glass.

“The quiet is going to kill me,” Avery said after her first sip. “I don’t know how you do it out here all alone.”

Trina glanced toward the opening of the great room. “I’m never really alone.”

“You know what I mean.”

“What about you? How will it be back in LA?”

Avery turned her head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Avery?”

“What?” Avery might be able to fool many people, but she didn’t fake well with Trina.

“I know you.”

“I’ll be fine. I won’t let Scarface own me.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Says who? I’m only sorry I didn’t get a punch at the man who altered my appearance for the rest of my life. If it would make a difference, I’d dig him up and kick him in the face to show him how it felt.”

The image had Trina swallowing hard.

Trina snapped out of her grave-digging trance almost as fast as she popped into it. “So Wade . . .”

She didn’t want to change the subject but didn’t quite know what to say following Avery’s dip into the macabre. “I’m bummed I’m not there.”

Avery shrugged. “It’s good to have time apart.”

“I know that.”

“But you miss him.”

“I’ve leaned on him a lot since we met. It wasn’t that I looked for him to answer my questions so much as support me in asking them.”

“I get that.”

“I realize that Fedor and I . . . that we weren’t . . .” Trina glanced toward the open room, to whoever might be listening. “But we did talk. It was nice to bounce ideas off someone you shared something with.”

Avery sighed. “Bernie and I had that, too.”

Trina lowered her voice. “With Wade, it’s that friendship and a lover in the same person. I can’t help but think that’s rare.” She paused, sipped her wine. “I’m falling in love, Avery.”

Her friend moaned. “I know.” Over her bandaged nose, Avery glared. “I really want to hate your guy . . . you know that, right?”

Trina laughed and hung her head. “How is that working for you?”

“It isn’t!”

Trina laughed louder.



Sometimes, when you wanted things done right, you needed to do them yourself.

Ruslan pulled the cuff of his jacket and squared his shoulders.

“Find her, bring her to me.”

Zakhar disappeared into the thick crowd of rowdy, drunk urban cowboys toward the front of the stage.

“Hello, Las Vegas!” Mr. Famous himself tilted his hat to the crowd.

A chaotic cheer went up.

“How’s everybody doin’ tonight?”

Ruslan weaved his way through the crowd.

“Hope you don’t mind if I take a couple of pictures. I have someone back home who really wanted to come.” Wade turned his back to his audience, lifted his phone in the air. “Say country!”

He turned back around, waved his phone in the air. “Not sure how I’m gonna get this to all of you. Guess I’ll upload it on Instagram.” He fiddled with his phone before setting it aside on the stage. “Let’s get this party started.”

The band struck a note, and the noise in the arena made it impossible to think.



Trina opened the image on her phone and enjoyed the giddy buzz inside her body. Wade was onstage, an arena full of fans with bright lights and cell phones was a sea behind him. He captioned it, Wishin’ you were here!

The fact that he was onstage right then, doing his thing, and taking even a second out of that to text her a picture gave her hope that they could work.

She snapped a selfie in her reply. Wish I was, too.

She hit send, knowing he probably wouldn’t respond until after the show.

She set her phone aside and reached to refill her glass.

“Someone is all smiles over there.” Avery looked up from her phone and the game she was playing on it.

Trina showed her the picture. “I can’t wait to watch him in person.”

“I’m sure we can pull up some YouTube videos to tide you over.”

Trina set the bottle down, took a sip. “I’ll wait.”

Avery didn’t look convinced.

Her phone pinged with an incoming message.

Trina’s heart fluttered. He wasn’t really texting her, was he?

She smiled, prematurely, before the image came into focus.

Then she dropped her glass of wine and yelled, “Cooper?”

Avery jumped. “Jesus, Trina.”

Cooper ran into the room, gun in hand.

Trina’s hand shook as she showed him her phone. “Ruslan is there.”

Cooper turned a full circle.

Trina pointed on her phone. “At the concert. This is him.”