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I nodded decisively at myself in the mirror after I finished applying some brown mascara and a soft peach lip gloss. Finished with my hair and makeup, I went to my bed and pulled a pair of black jeans and a deep red fitted top from my luggage. Satisfied with my appearance I pulled on my black ankle boots with the three-inch heels, which were high enough to look hot but comfortable enough to wear all the time.
After hugging my dad goodbye I made the drive across town to the Olive Garden. I grinned when I saw Caroline standing outside the door waiting for me. We each let out noises of excitement as we ran toward each other, giggling as we collided in a hug.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, you sexy bitch!”
I threw my head back and laughed as we ended our hug. “Shut up, hooker. You were in New York two months ago. For the record, I haven’t been able to so much as look at vodka since that weekend.”
Caro rolled her eyes. “Fucking lightweight,” she teased.
I fake gagged. “I swear my liver just shuddered. Lemon drop shots are sneaky.”
Sneaky was the only way to describe the way they too me down. It had been so bad, I only had fuzzy memories of the entire night. I was in no rush to repeat that experience.
We stopped talking as we entered the restaurant and approached the hostess station. “Ah, yes,” the hostess said. “You reserved a patio table. Come this way.”
I’d never dined out on the patio, but Caroline swore it was going to make dinner even better. I didn’t care one way or the other as long as I got some food into me sooner rather than later. The outdoor dining area was small but lovely, all done up with twinkle lights and trellises with vines, and the speaker system was playing Frank Sinatra’s Love is Here to Stay. We took our seats and then waved off the menus the hostess offered. Like most people in Bliss, Caro and I had been eating at Olive Garden since it opened on the county line between Bliss and Holmwood, the next town over, a decade before. We didn’t need to consult with menus before we ordered the usual—five-cheese ziti for me, and the tour of Italy for her. With our food order placed we settled in and started talking about what was new in town.
Bliss was small, so it didn’t take long to catch up on everything that was happening with all of our high school friends. I wanted to ask about Jackson, but since Caro didn’t bring him up I didn’t either. We made it through the entire meal without any mention of him. Only after our plates had been taken did she mention him—and unfortunately she did this as I was taking a sip out of my glass of white zin.
“Did I tell you Jax has been dating Melissa Ryerson? I guess it’s really serious since he was spotted at the jewelry store looking at engagement rings last weekend.”
I choked on the smooth-tasting wine, my eyes watering while I coughed and tried to get my breath. My heart galloped in my chest and it felt like all of the air had left the outdoor area. I felt devastated, completely crushed. It felt like I’d just found out he was cheating on me, which was ridiculous since I had no claim on Jackson. I figured he’d laugh himself silly if he knew that I’d secretly carried a torch for him for years. There’d been some lapses in judgment along the way that could’ve revealed that to him, but I’d been sure to be extra bitchy during those times in order to keep him from figuring it out.
“So, I see you’re not into Jax dating or getting engaged,” Caroline said pointedly.
I struggled to formulate a response, but my mind was spinning like Leonardo DiCaprio’s totem in Inception. “I, uh…”
“Good news, Choky McChokerson. I made that shit up, but you reacted pretty much exactly the way I thought you might, with the exception of almost dying, of course. Enough is enough, Chloe. Face it—you wouldn’t almost choke to death over some guy you don’t like. You two have this thing. It makes no sense but it’s there and it isn’t going anywhere. You’ve sat on the sidelines of dating for too long—it’s time to get out there, and Jackson is the only guy who has ever drawn your eye.”
I gaped at her, equal parts relieved and annoyed. “You made it up?” I croaked.
Caroline nodded as she took a sip of her chianti. “Sure did. The night of the lemon drop shots was more illuminating than you remember. I got you to admit you’ve been carrying a heart-shaped torch for Jackson Howell for years and you came clean about a two hour make out session between the two of you that you never said a word about before. You might not remember that conversation but I do—and that night you vowed to stop running from it. I figured blasting you out of your comfort zone with a little white lie might wake your ass up. Did it work?”
