Chapter 21
twenty-one
. . .
Jess
The hallway is quiet except for my keys jingling in the lock when I twist them to open the door.
I’m back at my place for the first time in almost a month, stopping by to grab a few things before the trip to Lucas’s parents’ house for the fundraiser.
Clothes. Shoes. A dress that says “cool and collected daughter-in-law,” not “accidental Vegas bride.”
The scent of eucalyptus and rose hits me immediately, and I know that’s Stella’s doing. One of her intention candles flickers gently on the coffee table, casting the whole living room in a soft amber glow.
She’s curled up on the couch in one of my sweatshirts, her knees tucked under her, with a laptop balanced on her thighs and a bowl of popcorn nestled beside her.
“Oh, hey!” she chirps when she sees me. “You’re back! I didn’t know I’d see you tonight.”
“Just a pit stop.” I drop my bag by the entry table and toe off my boots. “We leave for Lucas’s parents’ place in the morning, and I forgot the dress I need.
I head toward my room, but she calls out before I disappear. “Hey, do you—do you have a sec?”
Something in her voice gives me pause.
I glance over my shoulder. “What’s up?”
She bites her bottom lip, hesitant. “Can you sit for a minute? I…I kind of need to ask you something. About marriage.”
That earns a blink. “Wow, ok. Give me two minutes to grab my dress, and I’m all yours.”
When I return, she’s already cleared the popcorn and made tea because of course she has.
I settle onto the couch beside her. “Alright, shoot.”
She fidgets with the string of her hoodie. “So, this is going to sound dumb, but when you and Lucas got married, even though it was like, wild and fast, I kind of thought, ok, maybe this is what happens when people are in love. Like, when you know, you know, right?”
I stare at her. “Stella. You do remember that we were both wildly drunk in Vegas, right?”
She nods quickly. “Yes! Yes. I mean, I get that. And I know you’ve explained that it’s more complicated. But I guess what I’m wondering is, how do you actually know when it’s real?”
Ah. There it is.
I take a breath. “Are we still talking about me?”
Stella blushes. “Maybe.”
“Does this have anything to do with Mason-from-the-elevator?”
Her eyes widen. “No. Maybe. I just, I don’t know. Every time I see him, I feel ridiculous.”
I lean back, folding my arms. “Let me guess. He’s hot. He smells good. He once held the door for you and said, ‘After you,’ and your soul left your body.”
She covers her face. “I’m never telling you anything again.”
I bite back a laugh. “Stella. Girl.”
“I know,” she moans, hiding her face behind a couch pillow.
“I know it’s ridiculous. But I’ve built up this entire fantasy in my head.
We run into each other while I’m carrying groceries, and he helps me with the door.
Then we’re talking and laughing, and the next thing you know, we’re watching rom-com movies together on his couch, and he’s brushing my hair behind my ear like—”
“Like a Hallmark character who just came back from three years abroad?”
“Exactly!” She drops the pillow. “But in real life, he doesn’t know my name and probably thinks I’m a teenager.”
“You’re a grown-ass woman, who happens to be an excellent talent agent.”
“Yeah, but I give off ‘first-job energy.’ And he definitely gives off ‘has a home espresso machine’ energy.”
I laugh. “It’s ok. We’ve all been there. But listen. Wanting someone to notice you is not the same thing as knowing they’re right for you.”
“But how do you know?” she whispers.
I think about Lucas, about the way he looks at me when my guard is down and the way I feel when I’m around him: seen, challenged, steady and unsteady all at once.
“You know,” I say carefully, “when you feel like yourself around them. Not just the shiny parts you show the world, but the weird, scared, messy parts, too.”
She nods slowly. “That’s what I want.”
I lean back into the couch, sipping my wine. “You know who actually sets the bar crazy high?”
“Who?”
“Brandon.”
Stella quirks an eyebrow. “Brandon?”
I nod. “Yeah. Think about it.” I gesture vaguely toward the kitchen like he might walk in at any second. “He always remembers our coffee orders, even the obnoxious ones with oat milk and extra foam and sugar-free vanilla.”
Stella nods slowly. “That’s true.”
“And he texts the group chat exactly when we need it, whether it’s a pep talk before a big meeting or some meme about emotionally unavailable men from The Bachelor.”
“Also true.”
“And when your car died in North Hollywood last month? He didn’t even hesitate. Just showed up.”
She’s quiet, thinking. “That’s just Brandon, though. He’s everyone’s go-to person. Like, platonic ride-or-die. I don’t think he even knows how not to show up.”
“Exactly,” I say. “That’s the point. He does all that because that’s who he is, not because he wants anything from us. That kind of thoughtfulness and effort shouldn’t feel rare. That’s the bar. Bare minimum, honestly.”
Stella nods again, more slowly this time, her eyes a little unfocused. “Yeah. That makes sense.”
I watch her for a second, letting the silence stretch. “So, if Mason isn’t even trying to meet that bar, is he really worth your time?”
She opens her mouth and then hesitates. “I don’t know. I mean, I hear you, and you’re probably right. But I’d like the chance to find out. I haven’t even had one real conversation with the guy. What if he is that type of person and I just don’t know it yet?”
“I guess time will tell.”
She looks at me and smiles. “Honestly, Lucas has set a pretty amazing bar being with you.”
I pause. “With me?”
She nods like it’s obvious. “Yeah. He’s always looking out for you. Like, at your dinner party? He made your plate with all your favorite stuff and didn’t even ask. He just knew. The Porto potato balls, the cheese you like, those weird little crackers.”
I blink, caught off guard.
“And he always makes sure you get the exclusives before he tips anyone else off. He backed you up in the press release about Sophia when it could’ve caused a whole storm.”
I don’t say anything.
I’ve always seen the competition. The quick-witted banter. The sharp edges. The rivalry that feels like gasoline and sparks. But there were moments. Little ones.
The way he makes sure I have water on red carpets. The way he stepped in with Marcus that night in Vegas. The bracelet he gave me with the engraved charm of my show’s name. Now, with Stella laying it out so plainly, it clicks.
He has been showing up for all of us—and for me, even when I wasn’t looking.
I glance at the time on my phone and jolt a little. “Shit. I gotta go. Lucas is probably wondering if I fell into a hole.”
Stella grins. “Tell him I said hi. And that I expect a full Sacramento debrief the second you’re back.”
I stand from the couch and grab the garment bag I left near the door. “Deal. And for the record?”
She raises an eyebrow.
“You are a catch, Stella. Don’t settle and don’t sell yourself short. You deserve the fairytale Hallmark story of your delusions!”
She laughs. “I won’t hold my breath.”
“Maybe you should!”
I head out with a laugh and a grin that stays with me all the way to my car, along with the growing realization that I am happy.