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I have no idea who Gina is, but I can do a search of Amber’s contacts and probably find her.
“Okay. Thank you.” I’m flushed and beaming and a little shaky. So excited.
I can start working on jewelry again. It will give me something to do. And maybe I can actually start to feel like myself again.
“Why didn’t you ask me before?”
“I wasn’t sure what I wanted until right now.”
His eyes are narrowed slightly, but he doesn’t look angry. Just focused. “I’d love to see what you make. I thought you had no interest in that at all.”
“I didn’t for a long time. But I’m thinking maybe I do now.”
* * *
It’s easy for me to find the correct Gina in Amber’s contacts since she’s the only one with that first name. I have no idea what her actual role or job position is, but I send her a quick text saying I want to make some changes to the furnishings in the apartment, and Gina calls me back almost immediately, excited to hear what I want to change.
In less than a week, the second guest room has been completely transformed into a studio for me—with a large worktable, a wall of drawers and shelving for supplies, a small desk, and a cozy seating area in one corner.
I love it. It’s perfect. It’s the kind of workspace I’ve always dreamed of. On the following Monday morning, I sit down to work for the first time in months.
Before I know it, it’s midafternoon and I’ve been so absorbed I completely forgot about lunch.
I would probably continue working all day since it feels like being embraced by an old friend, but I’ve unfortunately got coffee scheduled with one of Amber’s friends at four. I’m tempted to text and cancel, but this particular friend has been nagging me for two weeks about getting together, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold her off.
It’s time to get this over with. I take a shower, put on a stylish Amber outfit, then make my way to the trendy coffee shop where I’ve arranged to meet with Haley.
Any worries I might have about identifying her are assuaged when I step in through the door and an attractive redhead who looks around thirty immediately jumps up with a happy squeal and runs over to hug me.
In the month I’ve spent as Amber so far, I’ve never met anyone who appeared as genuinely pleased to see me as Haley. Plenty of women have poured on saccharine gushes—easily recognized as either fake or superficial—and quite a few men have flashed me looks of hot interest. But no one actually seems to know Amber for real or care about her.
So I’m shocked and rather bewildered by Haley’s sincerely warm greeting.
We spend a few minutes on preliminary small talk, getting our cappuccinos and pastries and finding a two-person table near the window.
I wouldn’t have gotten a cupcake had Haley not gotten one too. It ends up being a small mistake, as Haley appears surprised but delighted in what is clearly a change in habits for Amber. But I make up an easy excuse about feeling like indulging myself today, and she doesn’t question it.
Following the strategy I’ve been practicing for weeks now, I ask her about what’s going on in her life, letting the first half hour focus entirely on her and the small boutique she opened last year and her various dating experiences over the past couple of months. She’s so openly nice that I’m actually interested in what she tells me of her life, so I ask a lot of questions and not only to fill the conversation in a way that’s safe for me.
She’s not one of those people who are happy to talk only about herself, however. So after a while she begins shifting the topic, asking about how I’ve been doing and what I’ve been up to lately.
Usually I can get away with a few vague replies about everything being the same and William doing well and staying busy. But Haley actually wants to know details.
I end up telling her about setting up the studio. She clearly knows about my family’s connection to jewelry, and she’s thrilled that I’m getting back to my roots. She asks a lot of insightful questions about the craft, and because I’m convinced she actually cares about the answers, I ramble on for a long time—talking more than I can remember with anyone since Amber and I were close.
“Oh, I’m so glad,” Haley says at last. She’s got a sprinkling of freckles on her nose and cheeks and lovely brown eyes. “And I’m so glad to hear William is supportive.”
“He really is. I made one random comment to him and then suddenly everything was happening. I’m not used to people jumping in like that just to make me happy.” My voice sounds a little too sappy, but surely that’s appropriate when referring to my fiancé.
When I glance over, Haley has her head cocked. She’s watching me with a warm kind of curiosity.
“What?” I demand, self-conscious by her expression.
“Nothing. You just seem… I don’t know… different.”
I swallow hard, hiding it with a smile. “You think so?”
“Yeah. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a different person.”
