The One That I Want. Michelle Monkou

Leo?” Laxmi had talked to Fiona’s boyfriend for only a few minutes. They looked madly in love and he was quite popular with her cousins and their significant others.

      “He’s sticking around Manhattan to deal with Grace’s business.”

      Laxmi laughed. “Despite all your whining about your grandmother’s stranglehold on the family, you had to hook up with her lawyer.”

      “Estate lawyer. One of many. And ‘stranglehold’ is an overstatement by a fragile teenager.” Fiona grinned, breaking free of the moody attitude.

      “Leo seems like a very nice guy and looks really comfortable with your family.”

      “He is, on both counts.”

      “Love has certainly given you a bloom.”

      “Shut up.” Fiona smacked Laxmi’s shoulder. The sappy smile was beyond cute.

      “Not lying or teasing you. Really, you look happy, contented. Glad you found your special someone.”

      The conversation drifted into silence. Laxmi hoped that she didn’t sound wistful. She had no intention of falling off that cliff again. Some people were meant to be alone and enjoy their company without an apology for the single life.

      “I hope you’ll stick around.” Fiona looked hopeful. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. And you’re always welcome at my house for an old-fashioned slumber party.”

      “Yeah, I’d like that. Once I get everything to a point that I can relax, a quick getaway to your upstate New York paradise sounds like a plan.”

      “I’ll hold you to it.”

      “So tell me what you’re working on for work.” Laxmi hadn’t forgotten the initial reason for Fiona’s visit. Coaxing her to her happy place might minimize how much she gnashed her teeth when she eventually told Fiona the details of Saturday night, minus a few necessary deletions.

      “Everyone is treating the latest case as the classic teenage runaway story—dysfunctional family history, mixed up with a bad crowd, or spoiled and wants attention. But I’m not feeling that any of those scenarios paint a complete picture. Some details don’t add up.” Fiona blew out a frustrated sigh. “Budget cuts don’t help matters, either.”

      Laxmi always admired her friend for sticking with the job of her heart. To see her ready to dive into the messiest of cases both scared and thrilled her. Nothing remotely dangerous had ever held any fascination for Laxmi.

      But when she’d met Fiona in college, they’d hit it off immediately. However, Los Angeles had become the go-to place for what Laxmi had wanted to do. A dream to be a singer and maybe act on the side drove her to the place where millions also chased the chance for a break.

      That break came so suddenly and left just as quickly that she’d barely had time to register the accolades and the awards. “One-hit wonder” became her label with the additional descriptor of “an overnight success.” As if all the work she had put in and the road leading up to that moment had been discounted.

      Bit by bit, rejection after rejection, Laxmi had grown tired of the game. She was no longer relevant. And racing to catch up was similar to a hamster on a wheel.

      Anger and bitter disappointment had grabbed her by the hand and taken her down some roads that never should be traveled. She remembered Fiona reaching out to her many times, trying to reconnect. The memory of her scornful reaction to her friend’s helping hand still shamed her.

      Her jealousy, which had blossomed like poison ivy during that time, had driven a wedge between them. She’d deemed it unfair that her journey had never lifted off beyond a certain point with temporary financial success, while Fiona had the safety net of the Meadows name and wealth behind her, regardless of whether she failed at her job. She’d never understood why Fiona wanted to hang on to their friendship.

      “You know I always wanted to be you.” Fiona’s laughter filled the studio.

      “Good grief, why?” Laxmi waved off Fiona’s protests.

      “Really. You had spunk. To leave home and venture out in the unknown showed independence and your badass mind-set.”

      “‘Bad’ pretty much sums it up.”

      Fiona shook her head. “If you’d stayed in Virginia after college, you wouldn’t have built up the stamina that you’ve got to do all of this. You’re a survivor.”

      “It’s called paying the bills.”

      “You can downplay it all you want. But I came to several concerts. I saw how you interacted with your fans. I heard that voice, too. Special. Unique. Hadn’t reached its fullest potential.”

      “What?” Laxmi hadn’t thought Fiona’s interest went beyond casual support of her music. “Why didn’t you let me know?”

      Fiona shrugged. “Guess I was a teensy bit jealous. You looked great onstage. Fans screamed your name. You were gorgeous, famous and living your dream.”

      “Makeup and lighting, honey, do wonders. And hardly famous. Maybe two people knew me on sight.” Laxmi nudged her. Compliments embarrassed her and she preferred hiding behind an air of indifference. “Anyway, I would’ve loved to see you there.”

      “Yeah, my maturity was at the ground-floor level. So much time wasted on small stuff. Taking a page from Grace’s philosophy. No do-overs. Pull up your big-girl panties and move your behind toward your happiness. Friends forever.”

      “Friends forever,” Laxmi echoed before Fiona crashed into her with a tight hug.