Meant to Marry Me

The next day, Trent sat in his new office, trying to get a handle on the situation with Bree. Between interviews, he found himself going back over the conversation he'd had with her the night before. While they hadn't argued anymore about it, he hadn't liked the way she'd reacted to his questions about Zach. She'd seemed super defensive.

He knew nothing was going on between them. He trusted Bree. The fact that Monica had cheated on him did make him leery, but he also knew now that there had been a ton of signs that Monica was cheating that he'd ignored. She'd be out when she said she was staying home. She'd snuck off at parties. She'd drank way too much.... Bree wasn't like that at all.

So why was she so quick to defend Zach at every turn? It wasn't as if Trent was even saying anything bad about him. He'd said the guy was good looking and brought in the chicks....

Trent was tempted to try to talk to Bree about it again, but he didn't want to make her mad. He'd just see how it played out. Part of him wanted Zach to quit the band just so he wouldn't have to think about the guy anymore. He seemed nice enough and was certainly talented, but he wouldn't have to worry about Bree developing feelings for the musician--or vice versa--if he wasn't around.

"I have a file I'd like for you to look at." Celia's voice caught him off guard. He hadn't even heard her come into the office. In fairness, the door was ajar so she hadn't knocked. Still, he wasn't paying attention to his work, clearly, if she was able to come in without him noticing.

Trent took the file. "Thanks, Celia," he said, remembering that this was a big account she was going after.

"Everything okay?" Celia asked, standing next to his desk.

"Yeah, fine."

"Are you sure about that? You look a little distracted."

"Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind." He glanced down the spreadsheet, looking at the numbers. "Everything looks good. I say, go for it." Closing the folder, he handed it back to her.

"Thanks." She took the folder but rested her hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you should take the rest of the day off, Trent. You're working so hard."

"Oh, no, it's not this," he said, trying not to let his eyes swivel to her hand. It was an innocent enough touch, but he wasn't sure what to think of it. She pulled her hand away even without him staring it down. "What is it? Everything okay with Bree?"

"Yeah," he said quickly. "She's just having an issue with one of her bandmates." He shouldn't be talking to Celia about this, but she was easy to talk to, and it just came out.

"Are they not getting along?"

"It's not that. He wants to quit, and she doesn't want him to."

"Why does he want to quit?" she asked.

Shaking his head, Trent said, "She didn't say. She said she didn't know, but... I think she does."

"That's... odd," Celia said, folding her arms. "Why wouldn't she tell you?"

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"I don't know," he admitted. "It's all a little strange."

Her head rocked back and forth. "Well, maybe it just has to do with the band, and she doesn't want to discuss it with someone who's not actually in the band."

"Yeah maybe. It's just... she usually talks to me about everything."

Celia gave him a sympathetic smile. "Well, I hope it turns out okay. You've put a lot into opening this business. It would be a shame if you and Bree aren't getting along and you decide to pack up."

He thought perhaps she was joking, but it wasn't funny. "Don't worry, Celia. I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded and headed toward the door, but her comment got him thinking about his earlier worries. Had they moved too fast? Should he have waited to move Bree in with him? As much as he didn't want to admit it, Trent wasn't sure.