Chapter 1 #3
“Thanks,” I tell her. “But you’re talking about marrying Ryan. You don’t need to start your marriage off with a third wheel living with you and making things awkward.”
She grits her teeth like another thought just occurred to her. “You can’t move back in with your parents.”
I think about that. My parents would welcome me back with open arms, but they would also treat me like I’m still in high school.
I lived with them for a few months right after college, and they reinstated the ten o’clock curfew I had when I was seventeen.
I tried to fight them on it, but I didn’t win.
Their house, their rules. I’ve been living on my own ever since.
It’s lonely, but at least I’m in control of my life.
“I’m not planning on it,” I tell her.
“Do you have any money in savings?”
“Not a whole lot.”
Not anything, actually. I was the lowest person on the totem pole at work, and my pay reflected that.
I was living paycheck to paycheck and dining on cheap bags of ramen noodles.
Sometimes I would treat myself to the ones that came in a cup, but that was a rare occasion.
I think about the homecooked meals my mom made when I was living with them.
Maybe a ten o’clock curfew wouldn’t be so bad.
It’s not like I ever go out that late these days anyway… I shake the thought out of my head.
“You’re stressing me out, Priscilla. Can I please just give you enough to make it through the next month? How much do you need?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
Her eyes go wide. She glances toward the front door, then back at me. “Is that why you walked here? Did you sell your car?” She lowers her voice to a whisper as if we aren’t the only two people in the room. “Did it get repossessed?”
“What? No. I just felt like walking. I’m serious, Tina. I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”
I can tell by the look on her face that she’s not going to drop this. I finish my glass of wine and head to the kitchen for a refill. When I return, her expression has changed from worried to thoughtful. I’m afraid to ask what’s on her mind.
“What if you started your own business?” she asks.
“We’ve already been over this.”
“Okay, but hear me out. I can be your first client. I wouldn’t be donating or loaning you the money. I would be paying for a service. Then you can use the profits to keep your business going.”
I’m about to protest out of habit, but I stop myself. It’s not a bad idea. If Tina paid me to organize an event for her, I wouldn’t feel like I’m taking money from a friend.
“What event do you need me to organize? Something for work?” I think about all of the tech conventions she and Ryan go to. If they wanted me to help organize something like that, it could help me break into a new niche.
She shakes her head. “The proposal. To Ryan,” she adds, as if I need clarification.
I’m already envisioning all the things I could do for a tech convention, so her answer surprises me. I pinch my lips together. “I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like that.”
“Come on, Priscilla. I’ve seen the things you’re capable of.
You could make it so magical. I want a flash mob and fireworks and big white horses and all kinds of amazing things.
I want to recreate my parents’ proposal story, but make it my own.
You could take my ideas and turn them into a real thing.
I wouldn’t even know where to get started. I know you can do it. Please?”
I want to accept, but I’m hesitant. I’ve been known to make impulsive decisions that I regret later—hence why I’m sipping wine in a fluffy white robe and my clothes are in the wash.
But when she brings up her parents, it’s hard to say no.
Tina’s parents died in a car accident when we were seventeen.
She spent the last year of high school living with me.
It’s one of the reasons we’re still so close.
It’s also why she’s been trying to pay it forward to me ever since.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell her. As much as I would love to help her plan this, the thought of getting in business with a friend seems a little daunting.
It could go great, or it could go very wrong.
I also want Tina to think about this, too.
If she’s offering this impulsively, I don’t want her to regret it later.
“Okay. I won’t pressure you,” Tina says. I can tell by her smile and the way she leans forward that she’s itching to talk more about this. “Just don’t say anything to Ryan.”
“Of course not. Where is he, anyway?”
“Out with Oliver. They’re at a bar or something.”
“Oh.” The mention of Oliver makes all my senses stand on edge, like he might walk around the corner at any moment and I need to be aware of my surroundings.
The conversation isn’t about him, but now his name is all I can think about, repeating itself over and over again in my head.
I bring my glass to my lips, taking a long sip to avoid having to say anything else.
Tina watches me. I don’t know why I bother with not saying what’s on my mind. She can read me too damn well.
“He broke up with that girl,” she says.
“You already told me that two months ago. Was there another girl or something?”
She shakes her head, a smile playing at her lips. “Nope. Just thought I’d remind you.”
I cross my arms. “I’m well aware.”
She picks up her phone, playing around with it for a moment before she sets it next to herself. She looks back up at me. “Maybe you can stop running away from him now.”
“I’m not running away from him. I just have nothing to say to him. He’s a total douchebag. Whether or not he has a girlfriend doesn’t change that.”
It’s been a year since Oliver showed up and ruined everything.
He’s Ryan’s best friend, and since Ryan lives with my best friend, he’s been a little hard to avoid.
I met him when he moved back to our city after living abroad for a couple of years after college.
Tina introduced us with the hope that we would get together.
She forgot to mention that he’s kind of a dick.
He always has something rude to say. I can’t stand him.
“You’re not exactly nice to him, either,” Tina argues. “You two hit it off so well that first week. I still don’t understand what happened. He was only repeating what Ryan told him.”
“You’re right. I guess that makes Ryan a douchebag.”
Tina groans. “It’s kind of funny when you think about it.”
It’s really not that funny to me. There was a time when I thought that Oliver was ridiculously good-looking.
He has the face of a movie star and the type of body that I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve fantasized about once or twice.
It’s not that hard—all I have to do is imagine he has a completely different personality.
When I met him that first week, I thought that he was nice.
He was cute and charming. I’m embarrassed to admit that there was a time, however short it was, that I actually thought I liked him.
But then Tina and I got drunk one night, and I told her that I was obsessed with him.
I thought it was harmless enough. I wasn’t actually obsessed.
It’s just one of those things you say to a friend when you like someone.
It’s obviously not something I wanted him to hear, and if I hadn’t downed four strawberry margaritas, I might not have said it to Tina, either.
Tina reported this to Ryan, though, and then Ryan told Oliver. I can’t really hold it against Tina. She was living with Ryan at that point, and I knew that she told him everything. I think she hoped that Oliver and I would get together and then the four of us could go on double-dates.
The next time I saw Oliver, he greeted me with a cocky grin and said, in front of everyone at the bar: “So. You’re obsessed with me, huh?”
That was the moment that ruined him for me. Whatever attraction I thought was there was gone the instant he said that. He was so smug about using my drunk confession to embarrass me. Everyone in the room had laughed except for me.
“It’s not funny,” I say to Tina now. “And I don’t need constant updates on who he is or isn’t dating.”
“You’re going to have to face him eventually. He’ll be at my wedding. We both know Ryan is going to choose him to be his best man.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” I stand up. “I should probably head home.”
I head to the laundry room to take my clothes out of the machine. Tina follows me. “Why? Stay for dinner.”
“I can’t.” I drop the robe and dress myself. My clothes are clean and dry and warm.
“Why not?” Tina asks.
“Because I’m sure Ryan is on his way home right now and Oliver is with him.”
I can tell by the stupid smile on Tina’s face that I’m right. I know that she was texting Ryan a couple minutes ago when she was playing with her phone. She probably told him that I’m here and to bring Oliver.
He’s the last person I want to see on the day that I’ve been fired from my job. I need to get out of here.
“Wait. Before you go,” Tina says. “Have you thought about what I offered?”
I chew on my lip. “I have. And I’m open to it. But are you sure that’s what you want?”
She nods. “Of course. I mean, you don’t have to commit to starting your own business just because you’re helping me with this. You could always take the profits after all this is over and put them in savings and get an entry-level job booking caterers like the one you just got fired from.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
“I’ll write a deposit right now, if that’s what you need. And I’ll even give you my credit card to make any purchases that need to be made. I don’t expect you to pay for anything out of pocket.”
She turns around and digs through her purse, then comes back to me with her checkbook.
“I haven’t even thought of my rates,” I remind her.
“You’ll have plenty of time to come up with a rate sheet. In the meantime, I’ll pay you what I think is a fair rate for your services. We can get started on planning it tomorrow.”
She tears a check out of her booklet and hands it to me. I read the number, and then I throw my hand over my mouth with a gasp.
“Is it not enough?” She reaches for her checkbook, ready to write another one.
“No. It’s way too much. There’s no way the things you want for your proposal would even cost this much.”
I try to hand it back, but she refuses to take it. “You won’t only be planning my proposal. I want you there every step of the way. We can do an engagement party, bachelorette party, bridal shower, the wedding, everything.”
I know that if I don’t accept the money, I’ll end up doing all of these things anyway.
I have no doubt that Tina will make me her maid of honor.
I won’t be able to sit back and watch all these events get planned by someone else—someone who might not care as much as I do about seeing Tina get the wedding of her dreams. I might as well get paid to do it.
Plus, with the amount of money she just gave me, I could start my own business and move into a better apartment.
And maybe eat something other than cheap noodles for dinner.
I look at the check one more time, reading the dollar amount again. Then I look back up at her. She watches me, eyes wide, waiting to hear my answer.
“Fine,” I tell her. “I’ll do it.”
Tina squeals, then hops up and down like an excited child before giving me a hug that nearly knocks me off balance. I laugh as she pulls away from me. I fold the check and stick it in my back pocket.
“This is going to be so amazing,” she says. “I can’t wait to start planning this.”
I take a step back toward the door. As excited as I am, I need to get out of here before Oliver shows up. “Let’s do lunch tomorrow and talk more.”
I open the door and step outside. Now that the sun is down, the air is a bit cooler than it was when I decided to wear a T-shirt and shorts. I make it to the end of the block and decide that it’s not just a bit cooler; it’s freezing. I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I had brought my car.
A quarter of a mile into my walk, I decide that I don’t care what people think about me.
I need to stay warm, so I start with a power walk, swinging my arms to create friction.
I alternate between that and skipping just to speed myself up, and end up doing a weird walk-dance thing that probably makes anyone who’s driving past think I’m on drugs.
No sooner does the thought cross my mind, the driver of a pickup truck honks their horn behind me, then pulls up onto the shoulder ahead of me.
I think about the kids who splashed me earlier.
It’s not the same truck, but I slow my pace, then stop altogether, trying to decide what to do.
Something tells me that if I keep moving forward, I’m going to get kidnapped.
I could run back to Tina’s house—I haven’t made it very far—but then I might run into Oliver, and I’m not sure what would be worse.
The driver’s door opens and a guy steps out. I wish he had parked under a streetlight so that I could see his face. If I make a run for it, I want to be able to describe him to the cops.
“What the hell are you doing dancing out here?”
I realize as soon as he opens his mouth that I know exactly who this is. It’s the very guy I was hoping to avoid.
It’s Oliver.