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“Who says hippie isn’t my type? He’s into business. He’s sexy.”
“You know this is just a rebound.”
“How can you rebound when you serially aren’t dating?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
“You know what I mean. This is so you can convince yourself Cash Creed means nothing.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Thank God you’re a much better business owner than liar. Because that was the suckiest lie I’ve ever heard. But whatever. I hope Steven gives you a rocking good time tonight.”
“I’m sure he will. Now, about those designs….” I say, shoving my coffee to the side so she can unfold her portfolio.
“About the designs that are going to skyrocket us to the top,” Harper says, animatedly. I love seeing her passion for her work.
I think about that, about how Harper lives her life with passion. Her relationship with Brad, her work—she puts everything on the table quite literally. It must be freeing to live like that. Then again, she’s had quite a different upbringing and quite a different view of love.
Two parents who are madly in love thirty-seven years after tying the knot. A simple upbringing with dinners at the table, cousins over for the holidays, and playing in the backyard. She learned early on that love didn’t hurt, and that life was about finding companionship.
As she talks about hemlines and stitches, I try to listen, try to block out the self-pitying notions about how life could be so much different if I’d have had parents different from mine. Then again, is it fair to blame them for everything? Is it truly their fault I’m an ice queen when it comes to matters of the heart? Is it completely their fault that my perfectionist tendencies mixed with my pessimism about love make me so afraid to get hurt?
I don’t know. There’s a whole hell of a lot I don’t know.
But I do know Steven will be a good distraction tonight, and God knows I need that right about now.
