You Deserve Each Other(88)

“We like Nicholas now,” Leon informs her. She frowns, but he nods solemnly. “We do. He’s a good guy.”

She looks at me suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re happy with him? Sometimes I’ve wondered, but didn’t want to say anything in case I was wrong.”

“I’m happy.” I blink as it hits me how true this is. “Really, genuinely happy,” I admit, and then I go “Oof” because Brandy envelops me in a crushing hug.

“All right, then. If we like Nicholas now, then I’m going to make nice. We’ll double-date and do those wine and painting parties.” This is one of the reasons why I love Brandy. She roots for other people’s joy. “Nicholas’ll like Vance. Did I tell you he’s an optometrist?”

Leon and I both smile. “Many times.”

“They can bond over long talks about health insurance and bad patients or something.”

Leon watches me pin my name badge onto my shirt so that I match Brandy. “The way you’re dressed, it’s like you showed up today knowing you were going to end up working here.” He motions at the hat. “Very Backwoods Buffet. It’s hard not to suspect that Nicholas gave you a tip-off.”

“He didn’t. He did tell me to drive by the Junk Yard, though.”

“Ahh. Sneaky.”

I don’t know whether to text Nicholas with HOW COULD YOU KEEP THIS A SECRET or BLESS YOUR GORGEOUS SOUL. “A mastermind,” I agree. “Actually, I wore this outfit today because I thought it might suit the job interview I was on my way to. Which I need to call up and cancel …” I reach into my purse and pull out a completed application. “When did you say the job starts, again?”

“No later than April. Maybe March, if I can swing it. You still going to be unemployed by then?”

“I’m all in,” Brandy says automatically.

That’s a few months away. Well past January twenty-sixth, which in my head has signaled the time of death on my relationship with Nicholas. I don’t think that’s the case anymore. I think that come April, I’ll still be living in that house in the woods.

“Yes, I’m going to wait for this job.”

He shakes Brandy’s hand, then mine. “Welcome aboard.”

Brandy glances at the application in my other hand, then frowns and does a double take. “I wouldn’t be using Melissa as a reference if I were you.”

“I’m not.”

She points at the number I have listed as my reference. “That’s Melissa’s number.”

“No, it’ s—” I scroll through my contacts and stop dead. She’s right. I’d meant to supply Melvin Howard’s information and gotten Melvin mixed up with Melissa. “Oh, shit. This is the number I’ve been giving out everywhere I apply.”

Her jaw drops. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Oh no, Naomi.” She puts her hands over her mouth and snort-laughs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. It’s terrible. I’m so sorry, I really am.”

The only reason I’m able to laugh along with her is that I’ve got a job now. “Laughing through my tears,” I pretend-sob. “I don’t want to assume that Melissa sabotaged me, but I also really want to think that now, because it’d be so nice to blame her for all those jobs turning me down.”

“Melissa’s the worst. Just for you, I’m gonna go to Let’s Get Crafty after this and mess up all the shelves. It’ll take her ages to put everything back where it goes.”

I give her a hug. “My sweet little protégé has come so far.” After I call my interviewer at the campground to cancel, we play Would You Rather and What’s That Stain—the answer to which is almost always Zach, since he liked to secretly shake our sodas before we opened them. Brandy tells me he’s busy forming a new religion in Florida. That absolutely sounds like something Zach would say, but whether he’s telling the truth is anybody’s guess. The man is an enigma.

Brandy and I head out to grab lunch for the three of us, and then it’s just like old times again, minus Melissa and Zach. We’re surrounded by sketches of what the Junk Yard is going to look like this spring, mocking up logos and a big road sign. Brandy uses a pencil to turn a hamburger grease stain on one of the papers into a lumpy rectangle. “And that’ll be the karaoke machine.”

“The what now?” says Leon.

“Oooh!” I squeal. “Karaoke! Brandy, that’s a great idea. Five stars.”

He stares at the grease stain with a look of revulsion. “Karaoke in a restaurant called Backwoods Buffet?”

“Yeah, and we’ll do luaus! We’ll put leis and grass skirts on your grizzly bears.” I beam at him. “Don’t lie. You love it. This is my decoration genius at work, remember.”

He groans.

“All right, I’ve gotta go.” Brandy wipes her salty fingers on my knee and I wipe mine on her back. Leon shakes his head at us. “Have to sit in a hot warehouse for the next eight hours while Bob, my boss, follows me around complaining about his ex-wife because he thinks women exist to listen to his problems. I can’t wait to be out of there.” She points sternly at Leon. “Don’t you dare back out of this.”