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The memory of Mac’s face looms in my mind, but I just ignore it and think about fashion.
By the time my tea is down to the dregs and the brownies are reduced to a few crumbs and chocolate smears on the plate, Simone has a sketch for the website branding and logo design, and I’ve started talking about intake forms and consultation prices with Fiona.
And, best of all, I’m not thinking about Mac, or Kevin, or the kids, or my mother, or any other of the thousand things that have taken up the top of my to-do list for years.
I’m thinking about me.
It’s only when Jen and Candice are at the kitchenette, and Simone is at her computer to come up with some rough ideas for my branding, that Fiona reaches across the sofa cushion separating us and squeezes my hand. “You okay?”
I force a smile. “Yeah. I’ve always wanted to do this.”
Fiona lets out a snort. “Not the stylist thing, Trina. We all know you could do that in your sleep. I mean are you okay. It kind of seems like you’re throwing yourself into this project right now because you’re trying not to think about something…someone…else. I mean, you did just burst in here and announce that you were done with men after one of them accidentally gave you a black eye.”
I snort out a laugh. “I did, didn’t I?”
“You okay?”
I release a sigh and give her a tentative smile. “I think…yeah. I think I am. I saw both Mac and Kevin today, and you know, when they were both stripping down and giving me their shirts—”
“Wait, what?”
“—I was just sitting there thinking, how did this happen? How are they both trying so hard right now? Where was Kevin for the past nine years of our relationship, ever since Toby was born and he checked out? Where was Mac’s affection when he was telling me that he could never be with me because of some silly rule he has for himself?”
Fiona hums. “You realized you were letting them rock the boat in your life. They were in control of your feelings when they had no right to be.”
“Yes!” I sit up and lean my elbows on my knees. “Why do they get to make me feel out of sorts? They don’t get to just march into my life and make me feel like I’m missing out, when I know for a fact that I’m not.”
“Maybe you just need to be single for a while,” Fiona muses.
I glance sideways and give her a grin. “Are you sure you weren’t a therapist in a past life?”
She snorts. “Simone has been my best friend since college. I’ve seen it all.”
“Rude!” Simone spins around in her office chair to mock-glare at us. “But true.” Then she turns right back around to tap away on her laptop.
“Well, I think it’s great.” Candice drops down in the armchair to my right and gives me a decisive nod. “You deserve to have your own thing, Trina. I can talk to Blake about it too. He might have some Hollywood people who need a stylist.”
My eyes widen, and nerves immediately start twisting in my belly. “Maybe I should start smaller than a literal Hollywood movie star.”
Candice grins. “Why? Why keep making yourself smaller? Rise up, Trina.”
Those words whirl in my mind for many hours after that, when I’ve said goodbye to the girls and gone home, when I’ve had some leftovers for dinner, when I’m lying in bed thinking about what I’ve just committed to tonight.
Rise up.
It’s a challenge. A gauntlet. Why wouldn’t I be able to pursue my passion and be damn good at it?
As I lie in bed and think about the two men in my life—the sour expressions on both their faces when they realized I wasn’t acting how they wanted me to act—I realize that yeah, this is the right decision. No matter how much I might like the company of a man, I can’t keep running after them.
I’m going to take care of me, for once. And it’s going to be awesome.
CHAPTER 30
Trina
“I heard you do fashion.” Agnes stands next to my table at the café, arms crossed, eyes hard.
I look up from my laptop, where I’m trying to untangle all the back-end website dashboards that I need to figure out how to use, and give the older woman a nod. “Yeah.”
