Smart Girl (24 page)

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Authors: Rachel Hollis

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humor & Satire, #Humorous, #Literary, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction, #General Humor, #Literary Fiction, #Humor, #Romance

BOOK: Smart Girl
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My head falls against his shoulder, something I haven’t done since we were kids.

“Thanks for the offer, but this was as much my doing as it was his. You get that, right?”

Something like relief fills his voice. “I totally get that. I’m so proud of you for getting that too. Most people would only blame the other person, or worse, they’d refuse to see the reality of the situation.”

“Which was that he didn’t love me back.”

“Which was that he was a damn idiot!”

I can’t help but laugh at this quick retort.

“Did you tell Mom what was going on?”

He looks away from me, suddenly finding the framed print on the wall infinitely interesting. “Of course not. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

And they say I’m a bad actor?

“Because she called on repeat until I finally answered the phone. And then when I apologized for Christmas, she told me she would only forgive me if I explained to her why I’d been crying for two days straight.”

“Is that right?”

I bump him with my shoulder. “You’re a rat and you know it.”

He sighs. “I didn’t know what else to do, Koko. You won’t call Landon—”

“She just got engaged. I don’t want this to bum her out—”

“And you won’t call Max—”

“Because she’d probably punch me in the face for sobbing all over the place. I just wanted to wallow in peace.”

“I was worried about you.”

“I know, and I love you for that, but I’m going to be OK. It might take me a minute, but I’m going to be OK.”

And even though my heart is broken and my emotions are shredded and I hate the part of me that wants to rush back over to Liam’s house, I know the words are true. I am going to be OK. Whatever issues have been going on between my family and me are mending themselves. I’m heading back to work on Monday with a full docket of projects to throw myself into. So I didn’t get the ending I thought I would; who cares? Badass, confident, strong leading heroines are one of my favorite literary tropes.

He leans over and kisses the crown of my head.

“You know I support you in all things, yes?”

“Yes, I know.”

He turns to look right in my eyes, gravely serious.

“Then please understand that the love I feel for you compels me to say . . . that you smell. Like, actually smell like a dirty person who hasn’t showered in days.”

He laughs when I throw a pillow at him and dodges another one on his way out of the room. When he’s gone, I take a breath and then another.

For the first time in days, I drag my carcass out of bed and take a shower. I don’t try to style an outfit, and my hair is only in a bun. I don’t even consider opening my makeup bag; that’s way more than I can handle right now. I need to face the music, but I’m going to do it as comfortably as possible.

I shoot a text to Max and Landon, and an hour later I’m driving to meet them for coffee. I’m the first person to arrive, and I order enough pastries to feed a family of four. I’m halfway through the cheese Danish by the time they arrive. Landon is in workout clothes, her favorite weekend-wear regardless of whether or not she actually plans to work out. And Max is still wearing her vintage scarf, and there’s flour on her clothes, which means she came right from work.

And that’s friendship, isn’t it? Friendship is no matter what happens, if you need me, I’m going to drop everything and come running. I’m going to be there for you.

“You look terrible,” Max says by way of greeting.

I do the mature thing and stick my tongue out at her while they both take their seats. We make small talk while the server takes their order, but the second he walks away, Landon starts in.

“What’s happened?”

My eyes dart quickly to Max, still not totally sure how to have this conversation with her about her brother.

“Out with it,” she states imperiously.

“I told him I was done.”

Landon winces.

I don’t need to tell them the details; I only need to tell them the conclusion they helped me come to. “I realized that he and I want very different things. He’s entitled to his choices. I’m entitled to mine.”

“And what do you choose?” Landon asks carefully.

I take a quick sip of coffee. “I choose not to chase after love. If it was right, it would come find me, not the other way around.”

They’re both quiet. Maybe they don’t know what to say.

“That’s very mature of you,” Max tells me sincerely.

Huh.

It is, isn’t it? For months I’ve been trying to be mature in order to catch Liam. It’s only by letting him go that I actually got there. Maturity isn’t something you wrap around you like a coat. Maturity is like the T-shirt you get for walking in a 5K: you can only put it on if you go through the experience first. The irony, of course, is that had I been more mature, or worldlier, I never would have put myself in this situation to begin with.

“I hope so,” I tell them both. “Now. Landon. It’s been roughly sixtyish hours since you got engaged. Have you planned the entire wedding yet?”

Max doesn’t even try to cover up her snort.

Landon’s eyes begin to sparkle with excitement, and she clutches the edge of the table like she’s trying to hold herself in place. “Girls, wait until I show you the bridesmaids’ dresses I found on Pinterest. Y’all are gonna love them!”

Chapter
FIFTEEN

I was sort of hoping it would be months and months before I had to run into Liam again. I got exactly seventeen days.

As I park and walk up to the restaurant for our meeting, all sorts of gross euphemisms about dating someone you work with run through my mind. I totally get them now. It’s incredibly awkward trying to do business with someone you are no longer intimate with but have intimate knowledge of. Beyond that, I’m worried my heart might not be ready for me to act casually with him again. I pause long enough to catch my breath on the sidewalk. Today my outfit says
Hi, I’m Miko
. My blouse isn’t an adjective, my skirt isn’t a design element, the shoes I picked out to wear can’t make me into something I’m not. I’m just me.

Through the new glass façade I can see Liam deep inside the shadow of the space, pacing, on a phone call. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to look at him and not see the most handsome man I know. Will his face someday lose its effect on me? Will there be a day my heart doesn’t skid out of control whenever he’s close by? Gods, I hope so.

“Today is not that day,” I mutter.

With one last deep breath, I open the door and walk inside.

“No, Brody,” he barks into his phone. “I don’t care if she’s upset, she—” When he sees me standing there, he stops abruptly. “I have to go.”

He hangs up without waiting for a response.

As he stalks across the room, I steel myself mentally. One quick glance around the space shows a great deal of progress since I was last here. The electrical is almost finished, and everything looks fine with the drywall installation. I’m unsure what might have happened to require my presence, but he asked for this meeting to discuss the design, and since I’m on retainer until the end of this project, I couldn’t deny him.
Never let them see you run.
In business and in life. I won’t let him see me get flustered either.

As he draws closer, I can see the tension coming off of him. Maybe I should ask him why he’s fighting with Brody and—
No! Bad dog!

Not my problem.

“What can I help you with?” I ask him.

He comes to a stop in front of me, a foot inside my personal space. His voice is gruff.

“Why won’t you return my calls?”

Oh gods! This is what he called me here for?

I turn and look at the space.

“Is there something work related you need to discuss with me?”

“Don’t pretend we’re just business associates, Miko.” He’s so frustrated that he nearly spits the words at me.

An anger I didn’t even know existed bubbles to the surface, and I scream the words before I can stop myself.

“Yeah, that feeling just sucks, doesn’t it?”

He’s shocked by my vehemence, and so am I. I deflate considerably at the hurt on his face. I knew I wasn’t ready to see him yet.

I rub my forehead with my fingertips. “I don’t want to fight with you, please. Is there something you needed me for work-wise?”

“I want to talk about what happened.”

I’m already shaking my head. “There’s nothing left to say, Liam. Don’t you understand?”

He looks away from me, out over the empty building, and bites down hard with his jaw. “I miss you.”

I clench my fists so hard that there will be marks from my nails. There is so much real sadness in his voice; it takes everything I have not to go comfort him. My voice comes out just as sad as I turn and head for the door.

“Missing me was never the problem.”

I almost get there. I almost make it out to the street and away from him before he calls after me.

“Who are Bella and Edward?”

I shrug off the question and don’t turn around as I ask, “What?”

“Or Mac and Jericho? How about Jamie and Claire?”

I whirl around in confusion. My heart stops when I see the piece of paper in his hand. He walks across the dusty floor until he’s right in front of me. Even from far away, I can tell it’s my list. Now that he’s standing closer to me, I just feel more mortified to see all my various notes and additions written on it.

“How did you . . . ?”

He holds the paper up between us. “This is crazy.”

Embarrassment floods my body, and I’m sure my face is red. I have no idea what to say, though I try several times to start a sentence. He takes another step closer.

“You would go to these lengths—you would do something this crazy to get my attention—but you won’t return my phone calls?”

My head flies up in surprise.

“I miss you.” He emphasizes every word like the knowledge makes him angry.

My traitor heart starts to pound wildly in my chest, and I do my best to squash the hope that follows after it.

“You won’t even let me explain myself. You won’t answer my calls, you don’t show up to Sunday Supper—”

“I, uh—”

He takes another step until there’s only an inch between me and another bad decision. His fingers trailing up my arm feel like heaven, like coming home.

“Come over to my place, please. Let’s talk about this.”

My eyes fly open in shock.

“We’re right back where we started!”

His face goes from coaxing to panicked. “That’s not what I meant at all. I just thought it would be private, but we can go anywhere—”

I put both hands up to ward him off.

“No. I’m sorry. I can’t do this with you again.”

I turn around to leave.

“You made a list! You cared enough once to make a list to try and get me. That’s the truth. Don’t ignore it. I’m right here. Don’t walk away now.”

I stop in the act of opening the door to the restaurant.

“The truth is, I made that list because I thought you were Colonel Brandon.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “You were Willoughby all along.”

He looks baffled. “I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t, and that’s why I have to leave.”

When I storm into Landon’s office, she and Casidee are already waiting for me. I point an accusing finger at them both.

“Judas!”

“Girl, calm down so we can—”

I drop my bag into the nearest chair. “No, I will
not
calm down! How could you do that to me, Landon?” To my mortification, tears start to color my words. “You know how hard this has been—”

“I did it.”

I stare at Casidee in shock. Landon takes a protective step closer to her.

“Liam is friends with my boss—I mean, my other boss, at the restaurant. And he’s been in there a lot lately, and he just looked so lonely and sad. And you look so lonely and sad—”

I swipe stupid tears off my face. “My life is none of your business!”

“Girl, calm down, OK?”

I glare at Landon. “I will not calm down. She is a child and it’s immature, not to mention beyond unprofessional, to take matters into her own hands!”

“Wrong.” Casidee startles me with the strength in her voice and the steel in her spine. “You made it my business when you involved me in all this. I asked you not to. I even tried to warn you, and you wouldn’t listen. You wanted an accomplice? You wanted a sidekick? Well, guess what, this is what the zany friend does in the rom com: she involves herself; she tries to make it right. Don’t be pissed because you got hoisted by your own petard!”

I fall into the nearest chair and stare at her, totally dumbfounded.

“My gods.” I can hear the wonder in my own voice. “I have
always
wanted to use that term successfully in a sentence. I’m so jealous that you found a way to incorporate it into modern speech.”

She raises her eyebrows in silent demand. “And?”

My smile is begrudging, but a smile all the same. “And I guess you’re right. I got myself into this. I brought you in against your will.” I roll my eyes. “It really sucked, though, Cas.”

She frowns. “I’m sorry. I really was just trying to help. If this had been a romance novel or movie, it would have worked.”

Who can argue with that logic? I’ve made life-changing decisions based on that very principle.

“But you still love him?” Landon asks sadly.

I remember the way my heart leapt just from being in the same room with him.

“Of course I still love him, and I used to think that was enough.” I cross my arms over my chest in some sad attempt to hold myself together. “I used to read those bits about finding your other half, and I totally bought into it. But that’s not the way it works. Two half people don’t make a whole. You’ve got to be completely whole on your own before you can be one half of anything. Does that make sense?”

“No,” Casidee says.

At the same time Landon says, “Absolutely.”

I smile at them both, though my eyes won’t stop watering.

“This is depressing. Does anyone have any candy?”

Landon jumps up and hands me a bag of M&M’s from her desk drawer.

“So you’re not going to give him another chance?” Casidee asks.

She and Landon share a quick look that I don’t even try to decipher. I pop a handful of chocolate into my mouth and chew it up before responding.

“He didn’t ask for another chance, Cas. He asked me to come back to his place.”

“I’m sure that’s not what he—”

“You know, in all the books I’ve ever read—and there are gobs of them—I never once saw a happily ever after that started with
Hey, baby, let’s head on back to my place first.
That’s how I got myself into this mess.”

“But maybe if you—”

I stand up with the bag of chocolate cradled protectively in my arms like a newborn. “I’m done. Let’s move on.”

I turn to leave, picking my purse up off the ground before I go.

“Oh, girl, I forgot to tell you.” Landon’s voice sounds a little manic. Maybe the strain of not being able to solve all of my problems is finally getting to her. “The engagement party start time got pushed up an hour. It’s begins at six now.”

Vivian, Max, and I have been planning their engagement party for a couple of weeks now. It’s odd that Viv wouldn’t just call me herself.

I frown in confusion. “Six o’clock is a little early, isn’t it?”

“Something about guests from out of town or something like that.”

The bag of candy shudders with my shrug.

“OK, I’ll be there with bells on.”

Tosh and I arrive at the Ashtons’ house a few minutes after six.

“Where is everyone?” He asks the same question I’m wondering.

Landon and Taylor are both here, because their cars are parked out front, and so are the Ashtons themselves, but you’d think we wouldn’t be the first guests to arrive, especially since Vivian was trying to be accommodating to the out-of-towners.

“LA is the worst at start times.” I open my door and step out into the chilly evening air. “Every wedding we do has two start times. The one on the invitation, and the one that we actually expect people to be present for.”

Tosh comes around the front of his SUV and wings an elbow at me gallantly. Since I’m in the highest pumps I own and the driveway is paved cobblestone, I totally appreciate the assistance.

When we make our way to the front door, there’s a beautiful handcrafted sign covered in blooms instructing us to head on back. Our florist did a gorgeous job on this, and I don’t doubt the rest of the party will be just as pretty. As soon as we’re inside, we can hear the sound of violin music coming from the patio, and we make our way out there. There isn’t a soul around.

“I wonder where everyone is?” Tosh asks.

“Dunno,” I mumble, too caught up in the transformation of the backyard to care much where anyone is.

They had to tent the backyard for the event, because late January made it too cold to do otherwise. But any kind of tent is nearly unrecognizable beyond the incredible garden they built within it. Trees of every shape and size have been brought in so that it looks like an enchanted forest, and every single one of them is covered with white twinkly lights and lanterns of cut glass. Flowers and bushes glow in hues of amber and blush, and Regency-style furniture is scattered throughout to make small, inviting salons. It’s feminine and so romantic, beautiful for sure—but not at all what I helped Vivian plan out. We’d planned out shabby chic with a base color of chocolate brown and every shade of pink we could find. It was supposed to be in homage to Landon, but while this look is so pretty, it’s also far more whimsical than I would ever choose for her. A server appears holding glasses of champagne, and Tosh and I take them, still confused. The bubbles hit my tongue along with the crisp bite of perfectly chilled champagne. Seriously, where is everybody?

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