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One Week Later …
“You did not.” Katie slammed her hands on the table in not-so-mock shock.
Lucy gripped the flimsy table at the diner to steady it. “Yep. I kinda did.”
She had done it. Quit her job. Again.
After watching Will on television, how could she not?
The few belongings she still owned were loaded up, and with only the cat for company, she spent two days driving the fifteen hundred miles to Denver for lunch with Katie, and then in a few hundred more miles, she would be home.
Home. Confluence.
Katie made a circle with her French fry in the air. “So I’m clear. He went on national television, said there isn’t another ‘next please,’ so you decided that meant quit your job, drive across the country, surprise him, and hope he’s still interested?”
Well…yeah. Lucy glanced at the hot dog she couldn’t bring herself to eat because her nerves were shot. “This is quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Or the most romantic.” Katie sighed.
“Maybe both?” Lucy shifted her elbows on the table and dropped her forehead to her palms.
Katie laughed. “Are you sticking around in Denver for a bit or headed straight through?”
“Lunch with you and then on to Will,” Lucy said to the table.
He had called her a few times since the interview. She’d tried to pick up the phone, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Heck, she’d even attempted to call him a few times, but once his name was on the screen she couldn’t press the button.
What she had to say needed to be said in person. “When are you thinking for the wedding?” Katie asked, casually.
“One thing at a time. I need to get to him first, find out if he even still wants me.”
“He made a whole scene about how you aren’t disposable to your parents.” Katie made a face. “He still wants you.”
Lucy hoped she was right.
Katie beamed. “Only one way to find out.”
Yes, indeed. “Guess so.” Lucy pushed the hot dog away. “I’m thinking I’d like red for the wedding.”
“You could do a whole red and black theme. Or is that too Dracula?”
Lucy grunted. “One thing at a time, Katie.”
“Don’t put me too close to Jeff for the festivities. I’m not speaking to him.”
“Why not?”
“That boy has mommy issues, kid issues, job issues, you-name-it issues. Let’s just say, if it’s an issue, he’s probably got it.” She paused, thoughtful. “Except bedroom issues.”
“I’ll never be able to look at him the same.”
Katie raised an eyebrow, put her index finger at the edge of the bun, and then melodramatically pulled it out about a foot. She tossed Lucy a knowing look. “Not even kidding.”
“You did not just tell me that.”
“Nope, I believe I illustrated it. Now, either you eat that”—Katie gestured to the untouched hot dog—“or you hop in the car so I can go buy a bridesmaid dress. What’s it gonna be?”
Lucy gagged. “I think you just ruined hot dogs for me forever.”
