Crazy Girl(6)

After two hours, Deanna and Kate finally bid the group good night, both of them having to work the next day, which left Courtney and myself alone at the table covered with tortilla chip crumbs and empty salsa bowls.

“When do you have to be home?” Courtney questioned as she pushed some of her teal-dyed hair behind her left ear.

“In a bit.” I sighed. “I wanna get an early start tomorrow.”

“How’s the new book coming?”

I pressed my lips together, dreading having to answer this question. Courtney knew my writing and desires for my career better than anyone.

I shrugged and released a long breath. “It’s…going.”

Burrowing her brow slightly, she cast me a sideways glance from behind the sexy teacher-glasses perched on her nose. “You haven’t written anything.” It wasn’t a question. She knew me well.

Shaking my head a few times, I stared down at my drink. “I’m…stuck.”

“Well,” she sighed, “you have a lot on your plate.”

“Yeah.” I snorted. “Like a heaping pile of bills.”

“You ready for it?” she asked, her mouth quirking up on one side. Courtney had been my biggest advocate, not just in life but also with my career, which wasn’t always easy. A true friend and advocate had to be one hundred percent true. Which meant if she hated my work, she had to tell me. And if she saw me messing up in life, she had to tell me that, too. We all needed soft friends like Deanna, but we also needed the hard-ass friends. Courtney was my brass knuckles friend, she delivered blows that hurt, but were needed. She didn’t coddle or pussyfoot around.

Taking a long swig of my drink, I swallowed then set it on the table and leaned back in my chair, my right arm resting on the table. Might as well get it over with. “Give it to me,” I told her.

“You gotta stop being so pissed off,” she stated plainly. “I know Ross bailing, moving away and leaving you shouldering the debt by yourself was shit. It sucks and it’s unfair, but it’s not going to change.”

“I know,” I insisted.

She raised her hand to stop me. “I know you do. But you really have to own it, Hannah. I mean, just look at how you behaved at my cousin’s wedding. You’re a freaking romance author. You should love that shit—the whole forever love and happily-ever-after stuff. Instead, you looked like the most miserable person there.”

I frowned. “I did?” I couldn’t deny the ceremony itself had been torturous for me, but I’d thought I’d muddled through it well. I raised my chin slightly, feeling a little defensive. “I enjoyed the reception.”

“Only after you drank two bottles of champagne,” she pointed out.

“You enticed me to attend with free booze,” I exclaimed. “And you drank just as much as me.”

She laughed a little. “That is true. But come on, Hannah. It was a wedding. A really beautiful one at that, and you had a scowl on your face for most of it.”

I pursed my mouth, annoyed. I’d tried damn hard to appear like I had enjoyed myself. I fought the urge to tell her what the groomsman had told me; to point out that as fairy tale as her cousin’s wedding appeared to be, it was all a lie. And that is why, even before he’d told me about the groom’s treachery, I dreaded attending. Because I knew as pretty and perfect as it seemed, it was all bullshit.

“I know you’ve created men in your books that come along and save the day, but life isn’t always a love story. You gotta put your big girl panties on and be your own hero.”

She was right. Lowering my head, I murmured, “I don’t even know where to start.” It was an honest reply. “I feel like…this is it sometimes.”

“It’s not,” she insisted. “Not even freaking close. You hit a big streak of bad luck and you’ve been reeling. It’s time to come back to earth.”

“I’m trying, Court,” I sighed. “Do you think I don’t know that? It’s all I think about. I lay awake for hours at night, staring at my ceiling trying to figure out how to fix…me.” I pointed to myself. “I just can’t…do it. I write romance and nothing about my life is romantic right now.”

“Then it’s time for you to get back out there.” She didn’t say dating, but I knew that’s what she meant.

I turned my mouth down, the thought of trying to date unsettling. I hadn’t dated anyone since my ex and I split.

“Not every guy is Ross,” Courtney said as if she’d read my mind.

“I know,” I grumbled. “It’s me. I don’t trust me.”

She slanted her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“I’m exhausted. I don’t trust myself to decipher the assholes from the good guys.”

Shaking her head, she leaned forward and stared me in the eyes. “There’s no way to do that. At least not right out the gate. You just have to take a chance and hope for the best. And stop assuming every guy is a jerk.”

“I’m emotionally drained. And I’m not up to getting hurt again,” I admitted quietly. “It takes too much out of me. It makes me resentful and cynical, and it comes out in my work. Obviously.”

“So what’s the plan?” she snorted. “Be alone and miserable, and lack any life experience because you’re scared? How the hell will you find any inspiration to write a book that way?”