The Rules of Dating(76)

Colby’s sham ceremony was scheduled for just before 4 PM this afternoon. Five hours left until my boyfriend would marry someone else. I knew it wasn’t as simple as that—it wasn’t a “real” wedding—but it still hurt like a motherfucker. As much as I hated that it had come to this, I was happy he’d decided to bite the bullet. This meant one step closer to the nightmare being over.

Saylor.

Saylor.

Saylor.

This is all for Saylor, I reminded myself.

I kept trying to dive into work today because I had no choice. But my brain and hands just couldn’t communicate with one another. I’d had one other bad workday like this—right after Maya showed up. But today took the cake. And to make matters worse, I was fully booked, so I’d have multiple opportunities to fuck something up.

Deek had been watching me crash and burn all morning: dropping tools, forgetting where things were, asking a client to repeat the details of the ink they wanted more than once. The only thing I hadn’t done was screw up a design. That was one thing I’d never done, and I didn’t want to start today.

After my second client left, Deek went to the front of the shop, changed the sign on the door from open to closed, and pulled down the shades on the windows.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m shutting us down for the day,” he explained.

“Why?”

“You’re not in your right mind. I’ve got Justine calling all of the remaining clients to reschedule.”

I looked over at Justine, who had the phone to her ear. She waved at me. This felt like an ambush.

“Clients are counting on me.” I looked around frantically. “You can’t just make that call to close down. This is my shop!”

“What are you gonna do? Fire me?” He laughed as he walked over to the door. “Come on, butterfingers. Let’s get out of here.”

After a few seconds of standing in a huff with my arms crossed, I conceded and grabbed my purse. I waved to Justine, who still had the phone to her ear. “You’ll lock up?” I asked her.

She nodded and gave me a thumbs up.

“Where are we going?” I asked Deek.

“Anywhere and everywhere, my friend. I am going to occupy every second of this day so you’re not suffering, thinking about you know what. We are going to make the time pass in the least painful ways possible.”

We headed out the door together, and I followed Deek down the sidewalks of New York, secretly relieved that he’d absolved me of the struggle to remain professional today.

For our first stop, Deek led me into a candy store, of all places—the kind where you grab a bag and fill it to your heart’s content.

“Why are we going here?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Because I’m making this up as I go along? You once told me that when you were younger, you’d fill up one of these bags and go to town when you were sad about something. I thought it’d be nostalgic. Plus, I had a hankering for some chocolate.”

I’d never been one to turn down candy. I grabbed a bag and went after all of my favorites—Sour Patch Kids, Skittles, gummy worms, and SweeTARTS. Deek filled his mostly with chocolate.

Ten minutes of picking out junk had definitely managed to take my mind off things, until I got to one of the last bins.

The sign atop the Jordan Almonds read: Perfect for wedding favors! Suddenly all of my thoughts about the impending ceremony came flooding back.

Deek must have noticed me frozen in front of the white almonds. “Aw, shit,” he said behind me.

“Perfect day for a wedding, isn’t it, Deek?” I rolled my eyes.

“Those candy-coated almonds suck. Nearly broke my tooth on one when I was a kid.” He dragged me by the arm. “Come on. Let’s check out.”

After he paid for our candy, we once again roamed the streets.

“Where are we going now?” I asked, chewing on a blue-and-red gummy worm.

“If I tell you, you’re gonna nix it. So just go with the flow.”

He hailed a cab and directed the driver to take us to Times Square. The next thing I knew, we were in front of Madame Tussauds. My jaw dropped. “You’re taking me to the wax museum?”

“You said you’d never been.”

“That’s true. But there’s a reason for that. I have no interest.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun,” he said, helping me out of the cab.

Honestly? He was right. Deek and I had a blast posing for pictures with the wax figures and chatting them up. We discussed politics with Barack Obama and let Britney Spears know how relieved we were for the end of her conservatorship. We inserted ourselves as additional members of the British royal family and the Kardashians. I blended in pretty well with the latter. With my long, black hair, I was like the long-lost tattooed sister. We also danced with Beyoncé—that had to be my favorite part.

The fun ended, however, when we came upon a display featuring The Beatles. There was nothing wrong with it per se, aside from the fact that John Lennon made me think of Colby Lennon, which sent me down the rabbit hole. Ugh.

My eyes were fixed on John when Deek came up behind me. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Yoko?”

I continued to stare at the figure. “You know Colby’s last name is Lennon, right? After today it’s going to be Maya’s last name, too.”