Secret Relationship with my Brother’s best friend
“I have a name.”
“I’m sure you do.” She looks me over — sneakers, jeans, the plain shirt I grabbed off my floor — the way you’d look at a stray dog that wandered somewhere it doesn’t belong. “Vanessa Francesca.” She says it like I’m supposed to gasp.
I don’t.
“Jade,” I say. “Murphy.”
“Right. Marcus’s sister.” She says my brother’s name like she’s placing a chess piece. “Derek’s told me so much about you.” A pause, timed for effect. “Actually, no. He hasn’t told me anything. Which usually means there’s nothing to tell.”