Beyoncé Knowles can't believe her annoyingly perfect personal assistant has actually resigned from her cushy, highly paid position, and she intends to tell her exactly what she thinks about it.
But when she gets to her place, she comes to realize s...
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Kehlani. She'd appeared out of the blue like a ghost from her past. She couldn't believe her eyes; five years had gone by without her seeing her, and there she was, as gorgeous and perfect as ever. Except...
Her mouth gaped open, and stayed that way. Her hands grabbed hold of her chair arm, firmly squeezing it.
"What's the matter with you?"
Beyoncé was usually one to keep her emotions in check, but they must have been written on her face right now. Disbelief. Anger.
She felt cheated, betrayed, and confused, too.
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There was a man with his arm around Kehlani's back, herding her towards a table. She was smiling up at him like he was the best thing in the world. She couldn't ever remember her looking at her that way. None of that mattered, not even the set of two rings on her finger. What she couldn't deal with was her engorged stomach; she was rubbing absentmindedly, tenderly.
"Ah."
That was all Robyn had to say. There was no surprise in her tone. Beyoncé turned to her, growling accusingly, "You knew."
"That she was pregnant, or married?"
She just narrowed her eyes.
"Of course I knew. She's part of the crowd, you know how it is. We all gossip."
Beyoncé did know how it was, which was why, after withdrawing from her old friends when Kehlani had broken up with her, she'd never gone back to them, realizing how shallow and meaningless their relationships were. They were "friends" because they'd gone to the same swimming lessons in gold-trimmed pools. Robyn had been an exception, for one simple reason: contrary to anyone else, she'd reached out to her, asking how she was. She cared. She was made of different stuff—substance.
"And you haven't told me, because?"
"Because we're friends."
Beyoncé bit her retort back; considering the strength of her reaction, she understood Rob's point. She was angry now; a few months, a few years before, she would probably have flown off her seat and killed the man who touched her...
