“I screwed up any chance we had a long time ago,” I say sadly.
“You don’t really believe that, do you?”
I think about the benefit. The night in New York. Frozen hot chocolate on Christmas Eve. I had chances but I gave them all up for Blake.
“I don’t know. I mean … I’ve done things. He’s done things. I don’t know.”
“Promise me one thing,” she says. “Promise me you’ll keep an open mind. I can’t stand to see you like this for much longer, and you’d hate to meet the guys I’d set you up with.”
I laugh which only makes me wince due to the massive headache last night gifted me. “Are you going to lend me one of your many book boyfriends?”
“Well, I’m not willing to give up any of them, but have you met the new guy in accounting?” she snorts. “The one with gold, wire-rimmed glasses and a hideous comb over complemented with a whole tube of gel.”
My nose crinkles on instinct. “You mean he’s bald?”
“Oh, he’s not bald. I just don’t think he’s made time for a haircut lately.” She giggles. “And, this is the best part, he wears white tube socks with black dress shoes and slacks.”
“He’s all yours,” I say, closing my eyes to ease my headache.
“It’s your loss. I bet he’s hung like a horse.”
“Why don’t you find out? I think you spend too much time worrying about my love life.” I yawn, feeling myself drifting off to sleep.
Reece leaves shortly after noon, giving me back my quiet apartment. This is how it was supposed to be when I moved here last fall, but I liked the way it was when Blake was here more.
He took away my lonely. I would rather fight with him than be here like this, and the worst part is, I can’t even tell him.
His second chance has been a phone call away the last several months.
My cell phone rings, pulling me from the internal prison I’ve locked myself in.
I look down at it and smile, swiping my thumb across the screen. “Hey, what are you up to?” I ask, fiddling with the bottom of my yoga pants.
“Just thinking about you. Weekends are quiet here; I’m ready to come home so we can take on Chicago together.” Mallory comes home in two months, but that seems like an eternity from now.
“What? You don’t think I’m already lighting this place up?” I ask, rolling my eyes at my own question.
She laughs. “Yeah, I’m sure you are. What did you do last night?”
“Reece and I went to Charlie’s. And for your information, I got drunk and woke up in bed with someone.”
“No way,” she blurts. Would it be that much of a surprise? “Was he at least cute?”
“He was a she.”
“Holy shit!”
“Mallory.”
She laughs. “Sorry, you’re throwing me for a loop today. Are you sure you’re the same Lila I’ve been talking to the last few months?”
“I avoided the mirror this morning, but I think so.” I pause, wondering how much of this she’s taking seriously. “Aren’t you going to ask me about her?”
“Who?” she asks.
“The woman I slept with last night.”
“You’re starting to scare me.”
“You don’t have to worry too much. It was just Reece.”
She sighs. “For a second, I thought I was going to have to catch the next plane back to the states to fix you.”
“Am I fixable?” I ask quietly, thinking back to what Reece and I talked about this morning.
“I don’t think you’re broken.”
“Maybe I’m not broken, but a part of me is missing.”
I rarely bring him up, but today he’s on my mind. He takes up so much of it, there’s no room for anything else.
“I wish I could tell you it will all be okay, but I can’t, Lila. I know my brother, and once he makes a decision, he usually doesn’t turn back.” She takes a deep breath. She hates being in the middle, and I hate putting her there. “I’ve talked to him. He’s doing better than he was, but I wouldn’t wait for him to come back. I don’t know if he’ll ever come back.”
“Thank you for telling me … that he’s doing better, I mean. I’ve been spending a lot of time worrying about him.”
“He doesn’t want you to wait for him,” she whispers.
My lungs constrict, making it hard to breathe. “Did he say that?” My voice shakes with each word.
“No, I’m telling you as your friend and because I know my brother. I just want you to have a chance at happiness. You’re not going to get it from where you are right now,” she pleads.
“I know.”
There’s a long awkward pause—a rarity for the two of us.
I can’t take it because it gives me too much time to think. I don’t need any more time for that.
“So what are you doing this weekend?” I ask, filling the void.
“I have a project to finish, and then I think I’m going to go to go for a hike or something. It’s too nice to be stuck inside. You?”
“I’m going to New York with Pierce on Monday to present the board I’ve been working on for months. I should probably pack then I’ll spend the rest of the weekend talking myself out of running away.” My stomach hurts just thinking about it.
“From what I know about Pierce, he wouldn’t put you in this position unless he thought you were ready.”
“I’m just nervous. It wasn’t long ago I was selling furniture; it’s hard to believe sometimes.”
“When you are stressing, think about everything you’ve overcome this last year. You’ve got this,” she says in the same tone my mom would use if I were talking to her right now.
“Thank you. I think I needed this today.”
“Are you sure I made you feel better?” she asks.
“I’d be lying if I said I felt better, but I do have more clarity. I probably needed that more than anything,” I admit. I’ve been living my life by walking through it with my eyes on the ground. It’s time I look up and get a glimpse of what’s going on around me. I’ve been given the biggest opportunity of my life, and I’m going to be there for it.
“You better call me next week and let me know how it goes.”
“You’ll be the first to know,” I answer back before letting her go.
The next week is going to be interesting.
“ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?” Pierce asks when the plane reaches cruising altitude.
“This isn’t my first rodeo,” I answer, thinking back to our last trip to New York, and the most unforgettable night I wish I could forget.
“It’s your first big project.”
I laugh. It’s my first project period. How many people get to say their first interior design project was a multi-million dollar hotel in New York? “You said I could handle it. I got it handled.”
“I know you do,” he says, his voice softer, “but just in case, one of these will help.”
He passes me a flute of bubbly champagne, and I accept without hesitation. Truth is, my stomach is in more knots than the necklace I left in my purse last week. Pierce would never say it out loud, but this project is going to net him some serious cash if it’s successful. He’s placing his bet on me, and the pressure is eating me up.
I sip, getting a taste of the cool, bubbly liquid. The rest goes down easily after that. I lift my glass for more.
Pierce’s warm hand wraps around my forearm. “Take it slow, Ms. Fields. I need you to be able to walk off this plane.”
I laugh for the second time in less than ten minutes. “You haven’t called me that in months.”
He smiles, subtly sliding his hand toward my wrist. I don’t think I was supposed to notice, but I do. “It’s been months since I’ve seen you like this. Brings me back to when you were Ms. Fields.”
“Mr. Stanley.”
“Hmm?”