“Claire,” Bailey says, and I turn toward her in my chair. “I just want to say thank you for everything you’ve done these past couple of months.”
“Of course,” I say. “Happy to help.”
“I know there’s probably more to come,” she says.
“Yes. It comes with the territory.”
There will be more blind items, more angry fans, more narratives to spin. It’s just how things work in this industry.
She chuckles. “Well, I’m glad I have you in my corner.”
I smile. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”
We stand up from our seats.
“How are things with River?” I ask as we grab our things. It’s probably not the most professional thing to ask, but I can’t help myself.
The smile that spreads across her face is my answer. “Really good,” she says.
Luke has already left, but River waits outside the door for Bailey as we leave the conference room.
The look of love he gives her speaks volumes as she holds out her hand and he grabs it, intertwining their fingers. If I couldcapture a picture and post it on the internet, everyone would be back on the Bailey-and-River train instantly. Even You Oughta Know wouldn’t be able to put a negative spin on it. Probably.
But I would never do that. There will be plenty of leaks and accidental posts that we’ll have to deal with in the future. At some point, everyone will know they’re really back together. For now, they just get to enjoy each other.
They walk away hand in hand. I’ve rarely let myself compare my situation to anyone else’s, because what’s the point? But right now, watching them, I can’t help it. Bailey and River get their happily ever after, it seems. And I get . . . a curse.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and then walk out of the building into the warm sun.
Up ahead I see Luke nearing his car, and that same heavy feeling pulls at my heart.
I miss him. So much, it actually hurts. What can I do to get back what we had? I don’t even need the romance part. I just want the friendship, the teasing, the laughter.
I think about Gigi and my grampa and that second kiss she gave him when she thought the curse had gotten him.
Kissing Luke again won’t work for me. I know that. But what if I tried it? What if I walked up to him and laid one on him, just like Gigi did with Grampa?
It’s a dumb idea. Perhaps the dumbest one I’ve ever had. I can’t just walk up to Luke and kiss him. Unless I want my heart broken again.
What the hell, Claire.
I shake my head at myself and turn toward my car. I’m going to go home and maybe cry a little and then pick up the pieces of my pathetic heart and move on. That’s the plan.
Except . . . that sounds like a terrible plan.
I turn to see Luke opening his car door. He’s about to get in and drive away. And I have no idea when I’ll see him again. If I’ll ever get this chance.
I’m calling out his name before I’ve even fully decided to.
“Luke,” I yell as I walk toward him.
He spins around and sees me, and I almost get cold feet and turn back.
But I don’t.
I drop my bag on a median strip as I approach. Then, I walk up to him, grab his face in my hands and pull him toward me, kissing him soundly on the mouth.
Kiss number fifty-one lasts about three seconds before I pull away and look at him, my heart pounding, my breathing heavy.
