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“It’s the ‘We’re so proud of you, girlboss, but you’ve got to find another office’ blend,” Jen says, with an apologetic smile.
I look to Skye, who slides into the chair beside me. “It’s not that I don’t love having you here,” she says. “But… We’ve had some complaints.”
“The phone chatter ruins the mystical ambiance, apparently,” Jen agrees. “And besides, you deserve your own space, babe. In all ways.”
“Oh gosh.” I give them a regretful gaze. “I guess I have kind of been in the zone. I can take things upstairs. Or to a coffee shop.”
“Take your time!” Skye says. “But maybe it’s a good moment to think about your next steps.”
I nod, glad they’ve put up with me and my endless business calls for this long. My new company still feels precarious, but if I can keep up the pace, I could probably rent a small office space or maybe even a two-bedroom apartment. The idea feels too dazzling to believe.
“Well, I’ll get out of your hair for now anyway,” I tell them, gathering up my laptop and papers. “I’ve got lunch plans, then off to do some legwork for clients.”
This particular client insisted that she doesn’t want any of the usual places for her charity benefit. She requested a round-up of a new or hidden-gem locales, so I’ve got a scouting mission ahead of me.
“Lunch plans,” Jen repeats, perking up. “With whom?”
“Poppy. The one I was a stand-in bridesmaid for.”
“Oh,” she deflates a little. “I was hoping it was a male someone.”
I shake my head. “I’m definitely not ready for that just yet.”
“One step at a time,” Skye reassures me. “It’ll happen.”
Maybe so. But do I want it to?
* * *
I spotPoppy at an outdoor table at a bistro we both like. When she texted to make plans, we realized we share very similar taste in ideal lunches (the more fries, the better). It’s nice that, despite everything with Charlie, she hasn’t immediately picked sides and frozen me out.
“Look at you, with that honeymoon glow,” I tell her, leaning in for a hug. She’s radiant and casual in a T-shirt and skirt, new wedding band sparkly on her finger.
“Thank you, thank you,” she beams. “It feels like I was floating on a cloud the whole time.”
“The wedding was beautiful,” I tell her, honestly. “I’m so glad I got to be a part of it.”
Her smile slips. “I’m so sorry, listen to me, nattering away about true love, when…” she trails off.
“When I’m a lovelorn shell of my former self?” I quip, trying to keep the mood light. “Don’t worry about it. I’m well on my way past ‘miserable heap’ and into ‘blasting Olivia Rodrigo breakup anthems’, so I’ll be fine soon enough.”
“I couldn’t believe it when I heard,” Poppy says, scowling. “He’s such an idiot. I loved you two together.”
“Thank you,” I say. It does help to hear I’m not the only one cursing his name. “But these things happen. We weren’t together for long.”
With those words, I’m trying to convince myself more than anyone. I’ve obsessed over the fact that Charlie returned my glasses to the shop. But that’s basic courtesy, I suppose. He didn’t leave any kind of message with Skye, who clocked their interaction at maybe one minute. That’s all it was.
And all it’ll ever be, I’m guessing.
But Poppy looks thoughtful. “Do you really think it’s over? For good? There was a point when I really thought Dylan and I wouldn’t happen. I was completely crushed.”
I shake my head. No point in deluding myself anymore, I did that for long enough. “It’s not going to happen. I want to get married someday, with the right person. Have a family. That’s the last thing Charlie wants. It’s not even on the table with him, so why would I waste my time?”
“And he won’t even give it a chance?” Poppy asks. “To see if he feels differently about things?”
“Nope.” After overhearing that conversation with Dash, I knew I was cruising toward certain heartbreak. Why delay it? “I don’t want to talk someone into being with me, you know?”
Poppy nods sympathetically. “Totally.”
