Chapter 1 #2
I’m speechless for a couple of seconds. “Holy shit, Jess.” Jessie has always wanted kids. It’s been a dream of hers for as long as I’ve known her.
“I know. It’s a lot. But I’m happy. It feels like it’s meant to be.”
“It’s a little sudden.” I’m about to say, you barely even know the guy, but it’s hardly going to be helpful right now to point that out.
“Yeah. It is sudden. It just kind of happened. It was a shock. We used condoms and everything, but one of them must have broken. I like him so much and he’s been so incredibly nice about the whole thing.
He’s sweet and caring—and hot and also loaded—and we both know those attributes don’t converge in one human being very often.
He’s basically perfect. And then the look on his face when I told him my period was late…
he was excited, Lila. Not scared or spooked or trying to worm his way out of anything.
His reaction really made me want to…I don’t know, just go with it.
His parents are still married and they still live in their family home in Mendocino.
We went up there last month and he introduced me to his whole family.
He’s got two older brothers and his parents were so welcoming and they’re all so normal, Lila.
He’s stable and…real. Not like every loser I’ve ever dated—and God knows there have been plenty of them.
He has a house in Malibu. An amazing house.
With a view of the ocean. And then two nights ago he got down on one knee out of the blue and he asked me to marry him.
With a big-ass diamond ring. So I said yes.
We want to do it soon. We want to do it before I start to show and we can’t see any reason to wait. ”
Maybe so you can get to know each other? I want to say. But the truth is, I’ve barely talked to Jessie for months. I’ve been too busy to make the time to chat for hours, which is what we always end up doing.
I mean, maybe it is possible to make decisions like this on the fly if it feels right.
How would I know? The only man I’ve ever connected with was too busy connecting with every other female within a three-mile radius to even notice me.
I’m hardly the best judge of these things.
“Wow, Jess. I’m so happy for you. If you’re really sure. ”
“I’m sure I want to have this baby. And so is he. We just…clicked. Before this even happened. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this excited in my entire life, Lila. For all of it. So I figure that’s a good sign.”
“Yeah. It must be a good sign. This is amazing.”
I can tell she’s crying. “I know, right? Who would have thought I’d be married and knocked up before I even turn twenty-four? Will you come? Will you be my maid of honor, Lila? I can’t do this without you.”
“Next Saturday? Way to give a girl some advanced warning, honey.”
“I know. It’s quick. Please please please come, Lila. I need you there.”
“Of course I’ll come.” I actually do have some time off accumulated at the boutique since I haven’t taken a single day off for the whole year.
I’m owed two weeks, in fact. My boss at my waitressing job is laid back enough to also give me time off, at least I hope he is.
Even if he isn’t, it hardly matters. I can’t exactly say things have worked out for me here in New York.
I haven’t even come close to achieving a single one of my goals.
I’m still stuck in this overpriced limbo that involves styling billionaires’ wives whose faces are pumped so full of Botox they look like they’re made of plastic, and whose only fashion consideration is flaunting price tags to their equally-obscenely-loaded friends.
“I can send you a plane ticket if you want,” Jess offers. “If that’s helpful.”
“You know me.” I laugh off my fear of flying. “I prefer to remain on solid ground, rather than suspend myself thirty thousand feet in the air inside a flimsy metal tube.”
“I thought you were going to go to therapy about your phobia,” she chides me.
“I haven’t had time. It’s on the list.”
“It’s a long drive, Lila.”
In some ways I feel like this might be a sign.
Maybe it’s time for me to cut my losses and accept defeat.
I tried to make it in New York, I really did.
I gave it a year. I’ve worked my ass off with nothing to show for it.
I’ve made progress, but I still have such a long way to go.
Plenty of designers base themselves in L.A.
, after all. It’s not like I can’t build up a following from the West Coast. “I was actually thinking of coming home.” I hate that, as I say it, a piece of me feels like I’m a failure who’s giving up too soon.
“For good?” She can’t disguise her hopefulness.
“I don’t know. I’ve made one friend and I can’t get an interview for a job I actually want to save my life.”
“Would you move back into your apartment?”
“The tenant just signed another six-month lease, so no, not right away.” I inherited the one-bedroom apartment I grew up in (and its mortgage) when my mom died.
My mom was a working actor and single mother and she did the best she could.
I admire her for so many reasons, but most of all because no matter how hard things got, she always stayed true to her art.
It was her passion. The one lucrative role she ever got allowed us to buy a tiny apartment only one block from one of the more scenic canals, in a quaint but run-down house that was converted in the seventies into two apartments.
Ours is on the top floor, with its own rickety exterior staircase and a closed-in balcony with a peek-a-boo view of the water.
My apartment is cozy and cute and still my favorite place on earth, with all its memories and its quirky little Californian personality.
It needs a lot of work and there’s still a substantial mortgage to pay off, as well as the forever-ongoing expenses of taxes and insurance.
The rent barely covers its costs, and even though property values have skyrocketed over the past few years, I could never sell it.
That would feel like selling off a big chunk of my soul.
“Move in with us!” Jess gushes. “Jacob’s house in Malibu has five bedrooms.”
“Wow, Jess. That’s incredible. But I’m not moving in with you and your new husband—and baby, soon enough. Thanks for the offer though.”
“You could stay with us until you find somewhere else. Just think about it, at least. You’ll have plenty of time to mull it over on the 40-hour drive.”
“True.”
“So you’ll come?”
“Yes. I’ll be there by noon on Saturday. Does that work?”
“You can’t get here by Friday night?”
“I’m going to say Saturday just to be on the safe side. It’s going to take me all week to get there.”
“Okay. The ceremony starts at three. If you could get here by noon so we could get ready together, that would be perfect.”
“It’s a date.”
“Lila, I’m so excited to see you. L.A. isn’t the same without you in it.”
“I’ve missed you too, bestie.”
“Listen, my mom’s here to take me to try on wedding dresses. I would’ve asked you to make me one if it wasn’t so rushed. Call me tomorrow though. We need to talk through details.”
“Okay. I’m working two shifts but I’ll call you in between.”
“You work way too much. There’s seriously a free room for you to call your own here if you want it. You could sew all day and put your own show together.”
As tempting as that might be, it would never work.
I’m far too independent to rely on other people.
Just like my mother was. The mere thought of mooching off Jess’s new fiancé makes me feel uneasy.
I guess it’s one of my quirks. I always need to feel like I’m fully in control of my own destiny.
“I’m really happy for you, Jess. I’ll call you tomorrow. ”
“Thanks, honey. It means the world to me that you’re coming. Oh, and Lila?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember Brittany Wells?”
“Yeah.” She lived down the street from us when we were teenagers. We used to go to the Santa Monica pier together sometimes.
“You know how she was always baking cupcakes and started that cupcake business a while ago?”
“I think I remember you mentioning it.”
“Well, she’s offered to make our wedding cake.”
“Great.”
“And since she offered to make the cake, I invited her to the wedding. She asked if she could bring…a plus one.”
“Is that a problem?”
“She said…” Jessie pauses. “I’m just going to blurt this out because I don’t know how else to say it, but her plus one is Troy Beckett. She’s been dating him off and on and…he’s coming to the wedding. They’re not exclusive. She said they’re ‘friends with benefits’. That’s how she put it.”
I feel myself pale. “Oh.”
“I just wanted to tell you, so you weren’t caught off-guard or anything. But you’re over him now, right? That was a long time ago.”
“Of course,” I laugh breezily. “Are you kidding? As if I’d still be pining for that loser.”
“Thank God.” She sounds relieved. “I knew that. I just wanted to make sure.”
“Don’t give it another thought.”
“Okay. Good. I better go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Jess.”
We end the call.
Fuck.
I am over that loser. Totally. It’s ridiculous that I ever loved him in the first place.
He hardly even gave me the time of day and I hate that I wasted so much of my life on him.
I saved myself for him, all through college.
Hoping maybe he’d notice me. Fantasizing that maybe once he got to know me, he’d fall in love with me and leave all the others behind.
Which means I’m a huge sucker and a complete idiot.
And I’m basically still saving myself for him—not intentionally, but it’s not like I’m out on the town every weekend picking up men. I’m too busy working.
I also hate that my heart is beating faster at the thought of seeing him again. They’re not exclusive? Does that mean…maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance that he might finally…
Stop it.
I force myself to snap out of it. I’ve given way too much of my energy to that black hole of a not-even-close relationship. I can’t allow myself to spend another second of angst or longing on a guy who’s never treated me like anything more than a piece of furniture.
Snap out of it, girl! You’re better than that.
Of course I am. I’ve moved on. I’m a strong, independent woman, taking the world by storm.
Who’s also thinking of giving up on her dream of making it in New York because it’s lonely and nearly impossible to get ahead. And who still hasn’t met anyone else because she spends all her time striving like a madwoman but basically getting nowhere.
Anyway, I’m trying to take the world by storm, that’s got to count for something.
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