Dating Games(105)

“I didn’t just make him think there was a chance of something more. I gave him something more. And then some.”

“No. You gave that to Julian, not August.”

“I still didn’t get the story based on my talent alone, regardless of whether the man I slept with was Julian or August. I didn’t plan for it to happen this way.”

“Evie…” She runs her hands down my arms. “Life sometimes doesn’t go as planned. It’s how we handle the unexpected that determines our strength. Do you go on to fight another day? Or do you give up because it’s too hard?”

“I’m not giving up,” I mumble.

“No?” She spreads her arms. “Then what do you call this? So you were lied to. It doesn’t lessen your ability to do your job and do it well.”

“But I’d know the truth.” I point to myself, my jaw tensing. “If I continued on and, by some miracle, you gave me the promotion, every time I walked into that office and saw my name on the nameplate, assistant editor below it, I’d question whether I earned it. I need to know I earned it. I’d never…” I stop short. I can’t tell her the other reason. That every time I walked into that office, I’d be reminded of Julian. Ever since I learned the truth over two weeks ago, I vowed to erase him from every aspect of my life. That includes my work life, too.

“I’ve always known you were stubborn,” she says when I don’t finish my thought. “I just didn’t realize you were stupid, too.” She spins and grabs a large envelope off her desk, shoving it at me.

“What’s this?”

“An early proof of the February issue. It’s not final yet, but it has the feature story and the layout you designed. Figured you’d want to see the fruits of all your hard work.”

“Oh.”

She crosses her arms. “Yeah. Oh.”

After several long moments pass and she doesn’t say anything further, I take it as my cue to leave.

“You’re damn good at what you do, Evie,” she offers as I reach the doorway. “You should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished, regardless of how you did so.”

I glance over my shoulder and smile, wishing I could be as proud of myself as it appears Viv is. I walk out of her office, returning to my cubicle and the only thing that makes me feel grounded in a world that seems to have fallen to pieces around me. I pull my new planner out of my desk drawer and make new plans…better plans. Happier plans.

But it still doesn’t heal the gaping hole in my heart. I wonder if anything will.





“Coming to Nora’s to help her decide on centerpieces?”

When I hear Chloe’s voice, I pull my attention away from my planner, which is now covered with decorative stickers and color-coded based on my itinerary for the day. I’ve even started making daily, weekly, and monthly goals for the next three months. It makes me feel like I’m slowly regaining control of my life, like I will move on from this little hiccup.

“The hotel…” She focuses on my desk, then snatches the planner off the surface. “What in the holy hell is this?”

“You know what it is.” I tear it away from her, hugging it to my chest like a baby would a security blanket. “It’s my planner. A new planner. For new plans.”

“Oh, I know that. But what is it doing out here?”

“Nothing.” I hold my head high. “I just like being organized. I dropped the ball the past few months and am now suffering the consequences. Life is better when it’s planned. No surprises. So that’s what I’m doing. Making a new plan for the new year.”

“Does this new plan include finally growing a pair and talking to Julian? I’m not sure how many more bouquets of roses we can fit into the apartment before the city zoning committee tries to evict us for running a floral shop out of a residence. Or are you planning on ignoring him forever?”

“I’m not ignoring him,” I answer calmly. “I just have absolutely nothing to say to him. Eventually, he’ll move on. He’ll go back to being August Laurent, screwing whatever rich socialite calls him that month, and forget I even exist.”

She considers my words for a moment, then sits on the spare chair. “But will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Move on? Forget about him?”

“Yes. I have a plan.”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course you do. And what does that entail?”

Flipping my new and improved planner open to the correct page, I push it toward her, keeping a protective stare on her the entire time to ensure she doesn’t do something crazy.

“What is this?”

“New requirements for a potential partner.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No. Goals are important. Of course, I set the bar a little lower than I did when I first did this in high school. I’m thirty. Most women are twenty-seven when they marry, and the men are twenty-nine. So I can’t be as selective as I was twelve years ago. Ideally attractive, a decent job—”

“I can read,” she shoots back. “It’s all here on your list.”

“And not a secret escort.”

“Well…” She closes my planner and pushes it toward me. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”