Girl Crush(63)

Wednesday was a nod to our time by the pool, “Just Lanai-ing Around.” There’d been so many casual hours spent getting to know each other. He had to recognize none of that had been a front.

Thursday spoke to how I’d spent my time, “Pinking of You.” It seemed to be all I ever did anymore.

Friday, I hoped he’d see this was possible with “Toucan Do It If You Try.”

And Saturday would lay down the gauntlet and profess more than I’d been willing to say to anyone in years. “GPS I Love You.” And I did. Although I had no idea if he was capable of returning that sentiment.

Beck promised to let me know how he received each one but couldn’t guarantee when she’d be able to get them to him during the day. Waiting on her text Monday was agony.

Beck: Did you really send my brother a bottle of nail polish?

Me: Yep.

Me: Did he say anything?

Beck: He just looked confused. What did the note say?

Me: Just the color of the nail polish. I hope by the end of the week he gets the message. It’s kind of a timeline. Will you let me know how it goes tomorrow?

Beck: Of course.

I didn’t have to wait that long on Tuesday. Beck had gone to work early for a meeting that all the staff were required to attend, so she followed him back to his office afterward and handed him another box that looked just like the one he got the day before.

Beck: Do you want him to open a nail salon? What’s with the second bottle of polish?

Me: Did he think it was stupid?

Beck: He didn’t say anything. He just grinned…and set it next to the bottle you gave him yesterday on his desk.

Me: Is that a good thing?

Beck: Giselle, the man doesn’t keep pictures on his desk, but now has two bottles of insanely girly OPI sitting front and center. I’m going to guess it’s a positive.

Me: Eeep.

Beck: Have you tried to contact him again?

Me: Nope.

Beck: Maybe you should?

Me: I have to wait until Saturday. He’ll have a decision to make with that one. It’s up to him.

Wednesday’s news didn’t come in the form of a text. Beck called me to tell me her co-workers were concerned about the multiple bottles of nail polish her brother kept on his desk. I tried to reassure her there was no cause for concern unless he started using them.

The silence from Collier was bad enough, but when I didn’t hear from Beck all day on Thursday, I started to worry. Maybe he didn’t understand “Pinking of You,” or maybe he was pissed that I’d involved his sister. I was hanging on by a thread that threatened to break at any moment. I had a dream of nail polish bottles all over Collier’s office after years of trying to convince him to give me a chance, one color at a time. Thousands of bottles lined every inch of space, but right before I woke up, Goodwill came to collect them for the needy. Clearly, I was losing my mind.

I’d sent Beck a couple of texts but gave up and went to sleep. Friday, sitting at my desk while watching dust gather on the fake plants in my office, my friend finally resurfaced.

Beck: Work has been hell. Sorry about yesterday.

Me: How’d it go?

Beck: Not all that great. I’m sorry, Giselle. He’s just a jerk.

Me: It’s not your fault. I created this mess.

Beck: Don’t give up. You’re pulling out the big guns tomorrow, right?

Me: Yeah, I guess so.

Beck: What time do you want me to give it to him?

Me: In the morning. That will give him all day to decide what he wants to do.

Beck: No matter what happens, I still love you.

Me: Love you, too, Beck. Thanks for all your help.

I warred with conflicting emotions the remainder of the day, and Saturday was no better. Beck had come by to let me know she gave him the last bottle, but he hadn’t opened it in front of her and had gotten mad when she insisted on it. I hadn’t intended to put her at odds with Collier. Luckily, she wasn’t holding his mood against me. I wanted to sit around and whine and worry all day, but it wasn’t fair to her, so I let her escape unharmed. Each minute that ticked by seemed like an hour, and I started to believe the universe had slowed its spin just to drag this out a little longer.

By the time six o’clock had finally found its way to the face of the clock on my wall, I’d worked myself up into a frenzy of uncertainty. I put on a pair of skinny jeans and a blouse with the shoulders cut out. My belt matched my heels, and I hitched my new purse into the crook of my arm. I wish I felt half as good as I looked, but insecurity had taken root in my gut, and I was a nanosecond away from tossing my stomach on the pavement next to my car. Even a pep talk from Ronnie hadn’t helped ease my anxiety, but at the very least, in less than fifteen minutes, I’d know if I’d lost him forever.

I’d made reservations at Posh, another oddly named establishment in Podunk, USA. The name indicated one thing, while in actuality, the atmosphere was casual—the food was the luxury. I’d left the address on the final card along with a time. I prayed I wouldn’t be dining alone, but I mentally prepared myself for that possibility on the drive over.

I didn’t see Collier’s Porsche when I pulled in and found a place to park, but I was a few minutes early. Sitting in my car didn’t offer the comfort it normally did. I felt like I was being deprived of oxygen, and suffocating was worse than being stood up.