Chapter 4
OWEN
“I have a surprise for you. You’re coming to see me!” Zoe’s voice is half drowned out by what I assume are New York subway sounds.
“What?”
“You’re coming to see me. For the holidays!”
I sigh and pour some orange juice into a glass. So this must be her “genius” idea. Because even Zoe, who understands me better than most, can’t grasp that I like living this way. In the quiet of the woods, by myself.
All by myself.
Okay, so maybe it isn’t always perfect. But it is pretty damn close, and I definitely don’t need anyone trying to rescue me from my own choices.
“I appreciate the offer, Zoe, but I’m fine.
If I wanted to go somewhere for the holidays, I would have gone on the family cruise.
I’m just going to hunker down. Get some work done.
” I walk through the door to the four-season porch, looking out over the frozen lake as I sip my drink.
The fire crackles in the wood stove beside me.
“Oh, please. A week on a boat with the law firm of Wilde, Wilde, and Wilde? You’d rather stick a fork in your eye. No. You are going to take some time away, clear your head, and see your fabulous cousin. It’s all decided.”
I sigh. “Zo, it’s not that I don’t want to see you, but I’d really just rather be alone right now.”
“Right. Because you’re a loner.”
“I am.”
“Owen, there is a difference between being a loner and hiding.”
“I’m not hiding!”
“Mmm,” she hums in a very judgy way.
“What?”
“Agree to disagree.” I’m about to object to this whole line of conversation when she continues, “Anyway, it’s a moot point because I already promised my friend George you’d swap places with him until after New Year’s.
So unless you do want to meet him after all—and get real cozy in that one-bed cabin of yours, you’re going to have to come to the city. ”
“You told George Knight he could come live in my place?”
“Yes, and that you’d stay in his. Water the plants. Bring in the newspaper. Dust his Goodreads Choice Award.”
“Is that an actual thing that he would wan”—not the point. Christ knows what I would possibly do in that guy’s apartment. For, what, over a week no less? “Unpromise him. Please.”
There is a pause. When she speaks again, she’s quieter, more sincere. “O, please come. You know, George’s ex is getting married on New Year’s Eve. I think he really needs to get out of town. This was the best I could do to convince him.”
Hmm. Well, it really isn’t my problem. But when she puts it that way, it is hard not to feel for the guy.
Especially given that he had to live out both his relationship and his breakup in the public eye.
So public even I read about it, and I really don’t follow these things.
The split seemed amicable enough, but I know better than anyone that even a nothing breakup can mess with your head.
Still, that doesn’t mean I have to upend my life for the poor guy. “Zoe…”
“And I need you!” she jumps in. “At the wedding. George’ll be out of town, and everyone knows George and I are close. They’re all going to ask me how he is. It’s too much. I need a buffer!”
“You could bring a date?” I try. But I can already feel her reeling me in.
“Please. I think we both know finding a good date isn’t my strong suit.”
“Yeah…” I crouch down, poking at the fire with the iron.
“I really don’t want to go to this thing alone.” She says it so plainly and so plaintively that I know she has me, even as I suspect I’m going to regret this. And maybe, just maybe, a change of scenery wouldn’t be the worst idea right now.
“Yeah, okay.”
She lets out a happy squeal on the other end of the line while in the background someone yells colorful things about someone else’s mother. “Yay!!! Okay, pack your bags. I’ll see you tomorrow!”
“Tomorrow?”
I hear someone with a thick accent ask her how to get to the Empire State Building.
“Pack nice clothes! I’ll text you the particulars.” Then Zoe starts giving the person directions, and the line disconnects.
Oh, yeah, I’m definitely going to regret this.