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This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Proofreading by: Elaine York
1
Margo
Nancy spoke over the loud sound of steaming milk. “I can’t believe they bailed on us.”
“Really? Because I can.”
I’d just gotten a text from my soon-to-be ex-husband saying he and his lawyer couldn’t make it for our meeting...the meeting that was supposed to start five minutes ago. This was the second time he’d done this to me, claiming to be swamped at work. We’d even scheduled the appointment today at a café near his office in Soho to accommodate him, because he’d complained it took too long to get to either of our attorney’s offices. Not only that, I’d had to ask my best friend Nancy to fill in for my own lawyer when my regular divorce attorney got into a car accident yesterday. That’s how desperate I was to get today over with. If I bent anymore for the asshole, I’d break in half.
“Well, you know what I mean. I can believe it,” Nancy said. “But, man, the balls on Rex!”
It was just after Thanksgiving and already starting to look a lot like Christmas. The whole café was decked out in white lights and garland. I’d been hopeful when I walked in, thinking maybe the cheerful atmosphere would offset the misery of the meeting. But of course, anything involving Rex doesn’t end well.
I tried to make the best of it, opting to enjoy the seasonal eggnog latte, which I looked forward to every year. Holiday cheer should’ve been in the air, aside from the fact that my Scrooge of an ex—Rex—had pulled his usual crap. I’d agreed to a simple, no-fault divorce—which was ironic since the entire demise of my marriage was his fault—yet he needed a sit-down meeting. One apparently he and his lawyer decided not to show up for. That was just like him, unfortunately.
So, for the past hour, I’d been hanging out with Nancy, my childhood best friend. I normally tried not to mix business with pleasure, but she seemed eager and up to the task, and I was desperate not to delay this divorce anymore than Rex already had.
Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas” played low on the overhead speaker. I always loved this time of year; if only I didn’t have the dark cloud of these divorce proceedings looming over me, I could have truly enjoyed it.
Nancy drank down the last of her latte. “We need to figure out a way to spice up your life. Seriously, you do nothing but work and stress over this damn divorce. That can’t be healthy. Why don’t you come to my firm’s holiday party with me? It’s a harbor cruise.”
“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
“Even better…maybe we can go away somewhere after the New Year.”
Only half listening to her, I checked my phone. “Maybe.” A ton of emails had come in while I’d been at the café.
My job as one of the top event planners in Manhattan kept me super busy. Whether I was planning posh parties in the Hamptons or galas in the city, my schedule was chock full, seven days a week.
Nancy snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Did you hear me? I said maybe we should go away after the holidays.”
I forced myself to put my phone away. “Where would we go if we went away?”
She pursed her lips. “You know…I’m not sure I’ll even tell you. It’ll be a surprise. You can find out when we get on the plane. Your whole life is planned and scheduled in your damn phone. Pretty sure I’m going to make you get rid of that for a week, too.”
As if on cue, my text notification chimed, prompting me to take my phone out again and check it. It was one of the vendors for a holiday party I was in charge of. The thought of ever parting with my phone gave me the shakes.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I could never be without my phone for a week.”
“You don’t have an impulsive bone in your body. You need to unplug and live a little before your entire life passes you by.”
Playing with my empty cup, I said, “Impulsivity is a choice. I can be impulsive if I want to.”
She looked skeptical. “Really…”
“Yes.”
“So, if I dared you to do something right now in this café that you would never normally choose to do—anything at all—you would do it on a whim…for the sake of impulsivity?”
I saw where this was going. Nancy’s little dares went back to our childhood in Queens. It had all started in fifth grade when I’d tried to dare her to tell Kenny Harmon she liked him. But I never even got the words out…I’d said, “I dare you to…” and crazy Nancy cut me off and exclaimed, “I’ll do it!” What followed was ten years of us accepting each other’s dares before knowing what they were. I’d done so many things I would never have done otherwise—skinny-dipping, asking the most gorgeous guy in school to the prom, bungee jumping. I had to admit, some of those dares turned out to be some of the best times I’d ever had. But it had been a long time since we’d played our little game.
Though…what could she possibly have me do that was so drastic anymore? Of course, it would also totally prove her point that I couldn’t be impulsive if I said no. And…I did hate to break our long-running streak of agreeing to those silly dares.
I sat up straight. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”
