1. Jenna
JENNA
“ M mm, yeah, that Frosty is good.” I suck down the first sip of the chocolatey frozen drink. “I needed that.”
“And if anyone thought that having a rich boyfriend with a personal chef was going to change Jenna and break her fast-food addiction, they don’t know her like we do.”
“Don’t tell McCarthy,” I say, warning Hannah. “He’s been up my ass about how often I hit up Wendy’s.”
I unwrap Truman’s hamburger. “It’s like, don’t judge me, mister. I don’t show up and tell him he’s eating way too much grilled chicken.”
“It’s not like I’m talking to him.” Hannah steals some of my fries.
“Oh ha, ha! ‘Right‘” I use air quotes .
Hannah gives me a not talking confused look. “No, like, I’m not talking to your boyfriend.”
“Are you kidding me? He hasn’t come to you about a ring or engagement party planning or anything?” I grab my friend. “I’m supposed to be engaged .”
“What are you talking about? Aren’t you already practically engaged?”
“It was like a wink and a verbal promise of engagement. It’s not official unless you have Instagram photos and a big party and a ring. The ring is very important. So are you extra, extra sure”—I wink—“that he hasn’t contacted you about it?”
Hannah wrinkles her nose. “Why is your eye doing that? You’re not sick, are you?”
“I’m just trying to—never mind.” I huff. “Ugh, no, Truman, don’t eat the wrapper.”
Hannah eats the rest of my fries.
“I asked you if you wanted french fries…”
“I’m doing you a favor. You’re going to get engaged at some point, and I’d assume you don’t want to look bloated.
But seriously, McCarthy hasn’t contacted me about it at all.
I am getting a little concerned. I was about to invite myself as a third wheel on a date with the two of you to corner him and figure out what’s going on. ”
“Oh.” I feel nauseated. “He knows that I wanted a big fabulous engagement.” I’m concerned. “Do you think he’s having second thoughts? Maybe I shouldn’t have moved in with him.”
“You had to get out of your mom’s. That wasn’t humane living conditions.”
“Yeah, but it takes all the mystery out of dating. Now we’re just roommates. ”
“Roommates who fuck.”
“Yeah, but that’s not sexy, you know? It’s not exciting.”
“It’s a preview of married life.”
“Maybe he hates the preview.”
When I get back to the penthouse, McCarthy is sitting in his study, talking to someone in a soft voice.
I stand outside of the room as I listen to him. At first I think he’s talking to Buddy, but then the brown-and-white dog lumbers up behind me and licks my ankle.
I frown.
I hear McCarthy call someone “darling,” then he laughs.
I creep away from the door, Buddy padding after me, licking at the ketchup stain on my skirt.
McCarthy’s not cheating on me, obviously. I haven’t been living here that long. At most it’d be DMing girls on Instagram, but of course most of them are bots, and McCarthy’s not a dummy. He knows that…
So who is he talking to like that, like she’s someone precious…
He never talks to me like that…
Yeah, because I’m not a child, I argue with my subconscious.
A child…
He can’t have a child, right? I mean, he’d tell me, right?
For someone with three ex-fiancés, her fourth almost-fiancé cheating on her would be a little ho-hum. A secret child, though?
Now that’s the type of messy disaster we all love and expect from Jenna.