Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club #1)(77)



“It took me a year to grow out those bangs,” Hazel said.

“Trust me, Everly, now is not the time for rash hairstyle decisions. You’ll only wind up with a lot of pictures that you’ll regret. And they’ll be on social media where they never, ever go away.”

“I barely even use social media.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Tell you what, if you want to go pink, we’ll do something temporary, like some clip-ins or chalk.”

I groaned, pulling my knit afghan around my shoulders. “I don’t care about the pink.”

“Okay, but we need to make some progress here,” Nora said. “Otherwise, you’re going to be in the wallowing stage for months.”

“It’s been less than three days,” I said. “I can still wallow.”

She sat down on the edge of the couch near my feet and squeezed my leg. “Yes, you can. And we’re all going out to get breakup drunk tonight. But maybe let’s wallow in clean clothes.”

“Everly, I still need the name of the salon,” Hazel said.

“Red X on Capitol Hill,” I mumbled.

Nora rubbed my leg. “Do you want to tell us what happened now, or should we go get drinks?”

“It’s morning,” I said.

“Do you remember who we are?” Nora asked. “Breakfast drinking is why they invented bloody marys and mimosas.”

“Good point. But I drank some wine last night and I don’t think I’m ready for more alcohol yet.”

“How much wine did you drink?” Hazel asked, picking up the empty bottle.

“Yeah, that.”

“Just the one?” Nora asked.

I nodded. “But I didn’t use a glass.”

“Oh lord,” Nora said. “Okay, honey, just tell us what happened.”

I took a breath. “Shepherd found out about Annie wanting me to ask him to be her sperm donor. She’d given me the contract and I still had it in my desk. He found it.”

“Ouch,” Nora said. “But, hold on, I thought you’d already decided you weren’t asking him.”

“I did. A while ago.”

“Thank goodness. There was no way that wouldn’t have been weird.”

“I tend to agree,” Hazel said.

“I know, it would have been weird. Worse than weird. And I already told Annie and Miranda, and they’re fine with it. But Shepherd found out and he was really upset. And then he announced that Richard broke up with Svetlana and said that meant our reason for being together was over.”

“He did not,” Hazel said.

Nora lifted her eyes to the sky. “Oh, Shepherd.”

“He did. He told me I could stay until I felt better, but he wouldn’t be there. I tried to explain, but he said every woman he’s ever dated was only with him because they wanted something, and he thought I was different. Then he left.”

“And you came here, obviously after a trip to the store to get supplies.” Nora held up a bottle of self-tanning lotion. “Please tell me you didn’t use this yet.”

I held up my hands. “Do my palms look orange? No. You’re supposed to exfoliate first.”

“Oh, Everly,” Nora said. “Honey, you’re a mess.”

“Should we check her internet history?” Hazel asked.

Nora pointed. “Absolutely. Everly, there better be nothing but porn from the last few days.”

“What? Why?”

Hazel grabbed my phone and turned off the music.

“Because if you’re looking at porn, at least you’re doing something that’ll help. Your body could use some orgasm endorphins.”

“I don’t even like porn.”

“That’s because you need to find some good lady porn. I can help with that.” She turned to Hazel. “What’s she been googling?”

“Meditation retreats, solo travel for women, world’s saddest love songs, and egg freezing services.”

“Egg freezing?” Nora asked.

I crossed my arms. “On the off chance I do get married someday, it’s probably going be well after I’m fertile. What if I still want kids and I can’t have any by then?”

Nora lifted the bottom of my pajama pants and rubbed my leg. “Woman, did you stop shaving?”

“Why bother? I’m just going to keep going on an endless string of awful dates until I give up and accept that I’m doomed to be alone forever. I might as well save myself the agony and quit now. I might try again in another twenty years, in which case I’ll be very glad I froze my eggs.”

“Okay, that’s it.” Nora grabbed my hands. “We’re going out. Mimosas for breakfast. Martinis for lunch. And then, I don’t know, we’ll see where that takes us. But we’re getting you out of the house. After you shower, obviously.”

“I can’t go out. I have a phone interview this afternoon.”

“Already?” Hazel asked. “Did you quit your job?”

“No, although I’m probably fired. I haven’t been there in days. But the interview doesn’t have anything to do with breaking up with Shepherd. Is it breaking up if we were fake-together? Anyway, I got an email about a job opportunity and they asked if I’d be interested in a phone interview. Shepherd knew about it. I told him before everything blew up in my face.”

Claire Kingsley's Books