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It turns out they were both wrong.
On a quiet Saturday afternoon, Emily’s phone blares out the loudest alarm to ever ring through their apartment. Still curled up in bed from her late-night outing with the label, Beca rises from her slumber with murder in her heart.
“Why,” she groans, rubbing her eyes tiredly. “It’s 2pm on a Saturday, why is there an alarm going off?”
“It’s for that bet,” Emily says off-handedly. She switches off the alarm and returns to typing away on her laptop at the kitchen table. “It’s been three months since we made it.”
Still blinking away sleep, Beca glares groggily at Emily. “What bet? Oh. The marriage one with the Bellas, right, right. Well, okay, so neither of us win, I guess.”
“And neither of us lose.”
“Lame.”
Still annoyed that she was woken by an untimely alarm but also contemplating the meaning behind the winner-less bet, Beca stares blearily up at the ceiling. “Does this mean...like, are we bad at being married?”
Emily stops typing and frowns. “Why do you say that?”
“No, sorry, that came out wrong. I mean, like, are we bad at showing to other people that we’re married?” She sits up slowly in bed, cracking her joints and stretching out her limbs. “It’s not like we hid from everyone these past three months. We met them for drinks and brunch and shit, and we were at Chloe’s wedding. Together. As a married couple.”
“Oh yeah, that wedding gave me anxiety because it was closer to your side of the bet than mine,” Emily says contemplatively.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that no one guessed that we were married? Or even dating? Or even that at least one of us is married? Didn’t we wear our rings there?” Her voice gets higher and more hysterical as she goes on.
Emily doesn’t seem as bothered. “To be fair, there’s always so much going on when we meet with them. Like Chloe’s wedding, where the main focus was, for obvious reasons, Chloe.”
“Yeah, but those bitches are so nosy you’d think they’d catch on to something by now,” Beca counters. She doesn’t know why she’s getting so riled up about this, especially since she’s the one who’d suggested this bet, but the fact that the Bellas actually hadn’t caught on to their marriage makes her feel like she doesn’t act married enough. “Don’t get me wrong, we’re dumbasses for forgetting to tell them. But god why do they have to be dumbasses too?”
“We kind of lack in PDA sometimes,” Emily shrugs. “And to be fair, we do have a reputation because of that prank we pulled years ago. We dated for like, two years after that and they probably always assumed it was us playing off that prank.”
Beca sniffs. “Like I said. Dumbasses.”
“You know, we could just tell them.”
Emily says it playfully but Beca can tell that she’s serious. It’s almost been six months since they eloped, and ironically, it’s frustrating that no one guessed they’d married in secret. And though they still didn’t take any measures to drop hints or make announcements, they hardly make any effort to hide it and it’s not like they’re desperate to keep it a secret.
“It’s kind of...don’t you think it’s kind of late for that?”
“So what, we’re just gonna let them find out on their own?” There’s a small laugh in Emily’s suggestion, but an idea blooms in Beca’s brain.
“Okay,” she says, nodding with a newfound determination. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, how about a new bet?”
Lips quirking into an amused smile, Emily spins in her chair to dramatically face Beca. “Oh? Are we extending it to years now?”
“No, no, let’s change it up.” Suddenly energized, Beca rubs her palms together. “How about...whoever they find out about the marriage from loses?”
“Interesting,” Emily nods along.
“Rules.”
“Hit me.”
“One, neither of us can hint that the other is married, otherwise the Bellas’ll go into interrogation mode and you know they always get their answers.”
“That’s fair.”
“Two, neither of us can take off our rings. But we can hide it however we want.”
“Guess I’m wearing gloves to every get-together from now on.”
“Kay, don’t be cheap now,” Beca grins. “Three, dodging and deflecting questions is allowed, running away from questions is allowed, and faking your death to avoid questions is allowed, but if someone asks directly whether we’re married or not, you have to answer with the truth.”
“What if the reason they ask is because the other person did or said something that tipped them off?”
“Oh. Like...uh, say someone caught you without your year-round gloves and saw the ring and they decide to confront me about it?”
Emily narrows her eyes. “Okay I get it, I won’t wear gloves. But yeah, would that mean I lose or you lose? Because you’d have to answer the question but they found out because of me.”
“I guess in that case it’d be your loss.”
“Mmm, okay, sure. So are there actual stakes this time?”
“What, was the last one too vague for you?”
“It’s boring if there isn’t a predetermined prize,” Emily states. “How about...if you lose, you have to write a song? For me,” she adds, smiling knowingly. “Lyrics, melody, clean production, the whole shebang.”
“Like...from scratch?”
“From scratch.”
“...a love song?”
The smile on Emily’s face has too much exaggerated innocence for Beca to take seriously. “You’ve been asking me to do this for literal years now.”
“And I’m finally gonna get it when I win this bet.”
Catching the ‘when’ and not ‘if,’ Beca crosses her arms and clicks her tongue, racing to think of an equally challenging punishment for Emily. “All right. Fine. I see how it is. Then in that case...” she points slowly at Emily’s head. “You were saying you’ve always wanted to see what you’d look like with short hair. If you lose, you’re getting that haircut.”
“What? Whoa, back it up.”
“Gotta be above your shoulders.”
“Beca.”
“What? Afraid you’re gonna lose?”
It’s such a cliché bait, but it works instantaneously on Emily. “Fine,” she huffs. Then her expression turns frighteningly cheerful. “Yeah, okay. Fine,” she repeats, voice higher and calmer.
“Alright, that wasn’t unsettling or anything.” Beca watches Emily carefully as she returns to her laptop, scanning her expression for any unhappiness or disappointment. “You’re...okay with this, right?” she asks tentatively. “I’ve been kind of fucking around with them, but if you want to just drop the act...like, are you sure you want to do this bet?”
“Yeah, babe. I’m game for anything.”
“Just say the word and we can drop this dumb bet. We’ll just tell the Bellas and that’ll be that.”
Emily arches an eyebrow. “Hell no, I’m winning this bet. You owe me a love song, Ms. I-produce-music-but-can’t-write-a-single-lyric.”
“It’s different and you know it!” Beca says, throwing a pillow at Emily.
She yelps and jumps out of her seat to shield her laptop and coffee with her body before glaring at Beca. “Oh, is that how you want to play?” she says, smiling dangerously and tossing her reading glasses aside before jumping on the bed.
A week later, Beca strolls into brunch with Chloe none the wiser.
There’re no warning signs, no alarm bells, no unsettling auras that would’ve tipped her off to the direction this brunch is about to veer into. They order an appetizer, sandwiches, and a glass of mimosa each, and Beca expects nothing more than another boring catch-up session with her former co-captain.
But Chloe has her meticulously constructed conversation all planned out. “So,” she starts casually but carefully. “Do you have any news to share?”
Beca looks at her blankly over the rim of her mimosa flute. “News? Like. Current events?”
Chloe screws up her face. “Wh-...? No, Beca. Like big news. Things happening in your life? Important milestones?” She’s itching to just scream it out loud, to interrogate Beca, to shake down this tiny married rat to get the truth. But like she’d told Stacie, it’s a delicate situation that requires a delicate touch.
“Oh, hmm. Well uh, I just moved out of our old apartment, but you already knew that because you cried to me about abandoning our memories or some shit. Uhhh. Oh! I just got approved to go on a five-week work trip to Europe, did I tell you that? It’s like a six-country tour with the A&R department where we scout out —”
“No, not like that,” Chloe interrupts. “I mean, that sounds awesome and I want to hear about more later, but come on, Beca. Don’t you have bigger news to share?”
“Uh, bigger than Europe? Like...? Hmm. Oh, well, not sure if she told you, but Emily recently passed some intense exam so she’s finally applying to some jobs as a music therapist, which I think takes —”
“No, oh my god.” Growing increasingly impatient, Chloe cuts her off again. Ignoring Beca’s somewhat offended expression, she lays her hands flat on the table. “Not that. Yes, I want to hear more about that too, but Beca. Come on, you’re skipping over a big thing.”
“Uh. Uhhhh?”
Chloe snatches up Beca’s hand by the wrist and shakes it in front of her face. “This! You’re married!”
Blanching, Beca rips her hand back. “Wh-...you know? Shit. Okay, wait. Wait. No, wait, you can’t tell the other Bellas.”
Which, of course, is too late considering all the Bellas had found out together. But it’s interesting that Beca’s first concern is about the other Bellas knowing, and Chloe wants to figure out why.
Delicate situation, delicate touch.
Beca catches Chloe’s hesitation. “Did you tell them?”
“No, no, not yet,” she lies quickly. “Figured there was a reason you were keeping it on the DL, so I thought, you know. I’d ask you first. Buuuuut,” she says excitedly, leaning in, “I wanna know why you don’t want the others to know. And when it happened! And why you didn’t tell anyone!”
“Okay, oh my god, Jesus.” Beca pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a sigh that has her shrinking into her seat. “How the hell did you even find out?” she whispers, as if this is a secret to the rest of the world too.
Chloe wonders if she should tell her the truth about Emily’s Instagram post and how the ring was clearly visible in the photo. “Well you’re not exactly hiding that thing,” she says instead, nodding towards Beca’s hand. “I...uh. Thought I saw it at my wedding but I wasn’t close enough to tell. But now that you’re three inches in front of me with actual daylight, that’s definitely a wedding band. So? So? Give me the deets!”
“Shit, well, uh...” Beca flounders. “I mean, it all kinda happened quick so I don’t know if there are any ‘deets,’ but...”
“You eloped? Ohh, it’s with, Emily, isn’t it?” Chloe presses, throwing caution to the wind and taking the leap.
Never one to keep a poker face when confronted with a truth she’d been hiding, Beca freezes over and starts blubbering out half-formed sentences.
“Ohhhh I knew it!” Wiggling excitedly in her seat, Chloe claps her hands together like a child. “You two are adorable together. When did this happen? Who proposed? Oh! Did you start dating after that dumb prank? Or were you already dating when you pulled it?”
Beca looks like she’s suffocating. “Holy shit, dude, slow down. Just...okay, just please don’t tell Emily I told you.”
That sure stops Chloe in her tracks. She can maybe reason out why Beca doesn’t want all of the Bellas to know. But Emily? Her wife? Why on earth wouldn’t she want Emily to know?
She doesn’t voice the question but heavily implies it through unblinking eye contact until Beca’s squirming under her gaze. “We, uh. Have a bet going,” she mutters. “Whoever tips off the Bellas first about our marriage loses.”
Chloe just stares at Beca. She’s still staring when their waitress returns with their appetizer and leaves with a confused side glance at Chloe. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Beca!”
“What?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously.” Clearly embarrassed, Beca snatches up her fork and stabs into the appetizer. “We like, forgot to tell you guys when we actually started dating and got married. It happened quick and by the time we realized, it would’ve been awkward to just bring it up.”
“How quick?” Chloe asks suspiciously. “How long did you date?”
Beca purses her lips as if contemplating lying. “Two years.”
“Beca!”
“In my defense,” she says quickly, “we might’ve been dumb and forgetful, but you guys were all blind, so! You know what, we’re all at fault here.”
“Okay, so. To clarify.” Chloe brushes aside the accusation. “You don’t want Emily to know that I know because that’ll mean you lose the bet. And you don’t want the Bellas to know because they’ll for sure blab and it’ll somehow get to Emily eventually.”
“Yeah. You get me.”
“You two are ridiculous.”
“Yeah, but,” Beca smirks through her mouthful of chips and dip, “it’s kinda fun. Keeping it a secret.”
Amused and impressed, Chloe leans back in her chair, mimosa in hand. “The girls are going to kill you guys when they find out.”
“Exactly why it’s fun. And we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Chloe drains her glass, examining Beca over the rim as she chugs. Despite the flustered blush from the abrupt confrontation still lingering on her cheeks, she looks resolute in her decision concerning the bet. Maybe it’s the subtle but glowing wedding ring or maybe the way she’s holding herself with more assuredness than Chloe had ever seen her with, but Beca looks different.
More grown-up.
“Well, I still think it’s a stupid bet, but if it’s something you both agreed on, it’s not my business,” Chloe lies through her teeth. “I’m happy for you, Beca. ‘Happily married’ is a good look on you.”
That part is absolutely true.
“Thanks. I still can’t believe that you figured it out, but I’m...glad. That it’s you.”
Beca sounds genuine and Chloe almost considers forgetting about the Bellas and keeping Beca’s secret like she expects her to. But then she thinks about how she’d kept this information from Chloe and the Bellas because of some stupid bet and that thought flies out the window.
“As much as I appreciate it being you, I stand by what I said about not telling the others or Emily,” Beca continues, pointing a fork threateningly at her.
Teasing, Chloe just raises her eyebrows noncommittally.
“I mean it, Chloe,” Beca warns. “If you cost me this bet, I’m never forgiving you.”
“All right, calm your tits. I won’t tell,” she says. Childish or not, she makes sure to cross her fingers under the table. “So, anyway. Going back to that Europe trip...”
Beca doesn’t question the sudden topic change; if anything, she eagerly latches onto it to move away from her secret marriage, completely unaware to the fact that Chloe had gotten all the information she’d come here for.
That’s not to say they don’t have a nice conversation. Undercover mission or not, catching up with Beca is always something Chloe looks forward to, and hearing about all these new things happening in her life in the context of being married is refreshing to say the least.
When they finally part ways well into the afternoon, Beca shoots her one last warning look to which Chloe replies with a zipping motion over her mouth, insisting that her lips are sealed.
She’s not even out of the restaurant before she sends a text to Stacie.
Since another in-person get-together is impossible to plan so soon and on such short notice, Chloe throws together a group video chat as soon as enough of them are free.
“What’s the tea, Beale?” Stacie gets right into it as soon as everyone exchanged their varying levels of enthusiastic greetings.
Chloe can barely sit still. “So, she’s married to —”
“Emily,” everyone says in unison.
“Guys.”
“Right, we gotta let Chloe tell us,” Fat Amy says to the group before raising her voice a little “What? What was that? Who’s Beca married to?”
“No, it’s ruined, this conversation is cancelled,” Chloe pretends to pout.
“Fine,” Cynthia Rose shrugs, voice slightly distorted through a bad connection. “Guess we’re done here then.”
“Wait! Okay, fine, you called my bluff, whatever. But yes! They’re married! And! And she asked me not to tell anyone else because — get this — she and Emily have a bet going!”
Fat Amy pulls a face. “You’re joking.”
“Shut up,” Stacie gasps, looking like Christmas came early. “That’s the dumbest shit I ever heard, I love it.”
“I know” Chloe scoffs. “Whoever leaks the news of their marriage to us, accidental or not, loses!"
“Wait, so she doesn’t know that we know?” Jessica asks.
“No, well, she knows that I know, obviously. But yeah, no, she doesn’t know you guys know.”
“Ohoho,” Stacie smirks. “But does she really not know that we know? Or does she think we know since you know?”
“Why is English the universal language?” Flo mutters. “There’s nothing universal about this conversation.”
“She kinda made me swear not to tell you guys,” Chloe admits, only managing to sound a little guilty, “so...I don’t think she knows you guys know too.”
Cynthia Rose squints into her screen. “You swore you wouldn’t tell and yet you’re telling us? Man, what kind of backstabbing bitch move is that?”
“Hey, it’s for the greater good. And besides, all of us already knew so. I just gave her a little white lie and some wishful thinking.”
“This is great,” Stacie interjects, ignoring CR’s negativity. “I can’t wait to see how lunch with Emily goes.”
“Oh, but remember you can’t tell her that we know about their bet,” Chloe warns, “that’ll tip her off that we talked to Beca. I’m willing to keep that part of the promise.”
“What even is this bet? Ashley asks, sounding tired. “What’s so important that we’re subjected to all this secrecy?”
“I dunno, I didn’t ask.” Chloe shrugs, facing everyone’s offended expression with an unapologetic one. “Knowing them, it’s either something really dumb, really personal, or...unexpectedly sexual. So I figured that’s something we don’t need to know.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind knowing if it’s the last one.” Stacie wiggles her eyebrows.
“Okay, yeah, we get it Stacie,” Fat Amy sighs, rolling her eyes. “You like having sex. You’ve got a mini-you to prove that.”
“Oh! Speaking of, do you guys want to see her?”
“Yes!” they all scream, thoughts of the bet and the secret marriage and the secret-keeping about the secret marriage disappearing from their minds as Bella pops into their screens.
Armed with this new development and knowledge, Stacie strolls into lunch with Emily a few days later, ready to make this tall baby squirm.
They meet at a sushi restaurant downtown, a place they frequent together often enough that the waiters know their lunch orders as soon as they walk through the door.
Perfect. Straight to business, Stacie thinks, blowing on her tea and eyeing Emily as she types away on her phone, completely unaware of the direction this conversation is about to take.
“So, Em,” Stacie starts, not wasting a second or bothering to beat around the bush. “How’s the married life?”
Flecks of hot liquid hit her cheeks as Emily coughs and chokes on her sip of tea. Waving away her strangled apologies, Stacie wipes the droplets from her face, struggling to hold down her laughter.
“H-how’d you know? That I was...that I’m...”
Stacie raises an eyebrow. “Married? It’s not illegal to say that word, you know.”
“How?”
“Oh, you know,” she deflects airily, “I picked things up here and there. Thought I’d just take a shot in the dark and see how you react.” She smiles at Emily’s wounded-puppy expression.
“So you...tricked me?”
“Don’t act all innocent here, babe,” Stacie shrugs, unaffected. “It’s what you get for trying to hide things from me. Though I gotta say, I’m impressed.” She beckons for Emily to show her the ring, and she reluctantly pulls her hand out from under the table to place in Stacie’s. “Cute. When do I get to meet him? Or her?”
“Uh. They’re...shy,” Emily mutters, not quite managing to make the gender-neutral pronoun subtle enough. “Maybe one day.”
“Wow, that’s unlike you,” Stacie says honestly. “You’re usually so excited to share stuff like this. Come on, Emily, a marriage? You’re hiding a whole-ass marriage from me?”
“Well...it’s...uh...relatively new,” Emily stutters.
“How new?”
“...about seven months.”
Even Emily knows that’s not the answer Stacie wants to hear; her lips are a thin line and she refuses to make eye contact.
“Shit, that’s a while.”
“I know,” Emily sighs. “I’m sorry.”
Feeling guilty about being apologized to while messing with her, Stacie shakes her head. “No, don’t be. Just surprised, that’s all. Guessing they’re the possessive type? Wants to keep you all to themselves? Doesn’t let you leave the house without a leash?”
“What?” she squeaks, flushing. “No, sh — th-they’re not like that.”
“Aha!”
“That was a cheap move,” Emily whines.
“Gender’s only half the answer,” Stacie shrugs. “But if you don’t fess up soon, we’ll get to the bottom of this mystery bride.”
Emily’s jaw literally drops open. “No,” she gasps. “’We’? You...told them? You told the Bellas?”
Hmm. Shit.
Stacie quietly stops breathing, somehow maintaining her serene smile. Technically speaking, Chloe told them, but technically technically speaking, Fat Amy told them about the Insta post, but in complete honesty, the two people at fault here are Beca and Emily. But now isn’t the time to be passing the blame, Stacie should be covering her slip-up and not staring blankly into the ether.
Emily’s too busy panicking to notice. “So everyone knows?”
“No, not everyone,” Stacie lies quickly. Actually, it’s not a complete lie, Aubrey still doesn’t know about any of this. “Just a few of us. And no one else knows for sure, they just have the same speculations that I do. Did,” she corrects with a wink.
She should be taking notes or recording this conversation to keep track of the bullshit she’s coming up with so she can keep her story straight when reporting back to the Bellas, but Emily’s staring at her like the world is ending and only Stacie can help her navigate the apocalypse.
“Hey, it’s fine, right? If you really want it to be a secret, we’ll keep it secret for you,” Stacie offers, leaving room for Emily to reveal why she’s keeping it secret, to reveal the bet, to come clean with the whole story.
But apparently Emily’s mind is going in a different direction. “Wait. If you’re the only one asking, that means they don’t know that I know that they know. Right?”
“Uhhhhhhh.” Stacie’s mind goes blank. The correct answer would be...no? Or yes? No, the Bellas don’t know that Emily knows, at least to Emily’s knowledge. But yes, the Bellas do know that Emily knows they know, or at least, they will as soon as this lunch is over and Stacie’s ready to report back to them.
Emily doesn’t wait for Stacie to answer. “And you said only a few of you guys have assumptions, right? So not everyone knows? And not everyone knows that you know? Well, I guess they wouldn’t, because you only just confirmed it with me. Stars, this is getting confusing.”
Stacie wants to agree because, yeah, if Emily’s confused, then Stacie’s literally constructing mathematic equations to keep up with this shit. But she can’t say that; from Emily’s perspective, ‘just a few of us’ could possibly include Beca, and Stacie’s not about to argue otherwise.
And suddenly she doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, not trusting herself to mix up fake facts and real facts and let more information slip. “Look, if you want to keep it under wraps for now, I can respect that. I’ll drop the subject...for now...and I won’t say anything to the Bellas.”
Stacie almost feels sorry at how relieved Emily looks. If she didn’t know that all of this was for the sake of winning a bet, Stacie might’ve allowed herself more sympathy for this giant puppy of a girl.
“Thanks, Stace.”
“Mmm not a problem, babe.”
Returning Emily’s smile with a sincere one of her own, Stacie finishes blindly typing out a message to the in-the-know Bellas, announcing that it’s time for another group video call session.
“Not a problem at all.”
“Listen, that was the most headache-inducing lunch I’ve been to, and those things are supposed to be relaxing, damn,” Stacie throws herself down on Chloe’s couch with a glass of wine, not even caring if she’s properly in the frame of the laptop camera. “I probably used my brain more during that conversation than I did through all of grad school.”
Sick of the poor connection that comes with too many video conference participants, Stacie had taken the trip to Chloe and Chicago’s house uptown. Jessica, Ashley, and Flo are together also, as are Cynthia Rose and Fat Amy. Lilly’s screen is completely black but her mic icon occasionally lights up at soft, unidentified rustling noises.
“Uh, quick question before you start,” Fat Amy says, raising her hand. “Why is Aubrey never included in these exclusive meetings?”
“Oh. Well she wasn’t there when we found out, so I kinda just. Thought it’d be better if we eased her into it.”
Everyone gives Chloe a look at her decision, even Stacie. “Wait, so she doesn’t know anything?” Jessica asks, face scrunched up in bemusement.
“Guys, you know how Bree can get. She’s judgmental of Beca and protective of Emily, so for her to find out that they eloped and kept it a secret? She’d blow a fuse and probably fight Beca to the death.”
“Yeah, and we don’t need that kind of negativity in our meddling,” Stacie agrees.
Amy frowns uncertainly. “You’re really asking for her wrath, aren’t you?”
“Anyway,” Chloe says dismissively. “Stace, give us an update.”
“How is that something to ‘anyway’ away?”
“Well, to start off, I may have fucked up a little bit,” Stacie starts, choosing to ignore Ashley’s comment.
“Oh, this oughta be good,” Cynthia Rose mutters.
“I miiiight’ve tipped Emily off that you guys might also know what’s going on. So she might know that we all know.”
“Oh, related to that, I also have some bad news,” Chloe says. “Beca texted me yesterday and asked if I told any of you guys about what we talked about, just to check. I think my response tipped her off that I kind of did.”
“Well, what did you say to her?”
“I just sent her a winking emoji.” A chorus of groans, some of them distorted through the mic, attacks Chloe from all sides. “I know, I’m sorry, I kinda panicked.”
Stacie turns to her with a mischievous glint in her eyes, a smirk slowly pulling up the corners of her mouth. “Well she doesn’t know we know she knows we know.”
“Are you serious?” Cynthia Rose explodes.
“Okay how are we supposed to keep track of all this?” Flo agrees. “Do we just? Say nothing? Really?”
“I mean, you guys aren’t supposed to know, so. Yeah, that should be fine,” Chloe says.
“Wait, so how much does Emily think we know?” Jessica asks. “Only about the marriage? Or about everything?”
“Well, I think she knows you know about her marriage but she definitely doesn’t know we know about the bet.”
“Okay, so Beca knows I know about the bet and the marriage. And Emily knows that Stacie knows about the marriage but not about the bet. Both of them have inklings that all of us know about their marriage, but only Beca knows we know that it’s between them, and Emily doesn’t know we know that it’s Beca she’s married to.” Chloe counts off the facts on her fingers but loses track halfway through.
“All right, now I know y’all are just over using ‘know’ to make this sound more complicated than it has to be,” Cynthia Rose snaps.
“Ohh I hate this,” Flo groans.
“Can you guys, like, bullet list all this or something?” Fat Amy asks, only half-paying attention.
Stacie turns to Chloe, exhaustion in her eyes. “Honestly though, this is getting tough. Not sure how much more poking around I can do until I accidentally say something and blow this whole thing out of the water.”
“Yeah, same.”
“Then drop it!” Cynthia Rose looks like she’s about to lose her mind.
They both hum thoughtfully in response.
“We’ll see how it goes,” Chloe says inconclusively.
“Yeah, we’ll let them be for now,” Stacie agrees.
Emily’s heartbeat is still higher than usual when she returns home from lunch. Beca’s lounging on the sofa, buried under a mess of loose papers and her gigantic laptop.
“Hey. How was lunch? How was Stacie?”
Emily keeps her tone light and casual. “Fine,” she says. “To both. Brought you back some edamame, if you want.”
“Oh, sweet.” With a small groan, she sits up from her slouched position, sending papers cascading to the floor. “Any news from the Conrad residence?”
Emily pauses, then, thinking about how Beca had met up with Chloe for lunch the other day. Well, if Stacie knows, does Chloe know? Did she talk to Beca about the same thing? Is that why each of them wanted to meet with us?
Does Beca know? Is she one of the Bellas Stacie’s speculating her marriage with? Does she know that I know that at least one Bella knows?
“No, nothing new,” Emily says.
Shoving all thoughts of the bet aside in case she lets something slip, Emily snatches up her laptop and joins Beca on the couch, propping her feet up onto Beca’s lap and letting peaceful thoughts wash over turbulent mind.