Page 14 of The Wingman

“I know I don’tneedto, but what if I want to?” Something urgent flows through me. “I’m making a fresh start. Why am I dressing like the version of myself I left back in Calgary?” I look down at myself. “I should buy new clothes.”

“What’s wrong with your clothes?” Pippa asks, looking heartbroken. “I love that sweater.”

“I wore this sweater on a date, and the guy practically introduced me to his mother on the spot,” I tell her and Hazel, making them grin. “It’s responsible. I don’t want to look responsible, I want to look hot. I want to look like someone you have fun with, not someone you spend forever with. And I want to wear clothes I love, not clothes I feel neutral about.”

Hazel gives me an appraising nod. “I can get on board with this, but don’t look at me for fashion advice.” She gestures at her yoga leggings. “Everything I wear is made of Lycra. Easy to move in.”

Rory’s eyes flicker with interest. “I’m not complaining.”

“Don’t be gross,” she says to him, but she’s smiling, and my heart does a funny thump.

“You know who would be good to go shopping with?” Pippa says to her sister. “Georgia.”

Hazel’s eyes go wide with enthusiasm. “Yes.”

At the end of the table, Alexei makes a noise of disgust. “If you want Darcy to drain her savings, maybe. The doctor’s a bad influence.”

“Excuse me.” Hazel gives him a hard look. “Just becauseyoudon’t get along with her doesn’t mean she’s a bad influence. What is this, secondgrade?”

“She’s one of the team doctors, and you’ll love her,” Pippa confides to me. “She wears the best shoes.”

Happy, light feelings bubble through me, and I bite back a grin so I don’t seem too eager. “I’m in. Just say when.”

“Great.” Pippa smiles. “I’ll arrange something.”

Hayden’s looking down at me with a wary expression, so I give him a playful nudge. “What’s peacocking?”

“Wearing something bold that people comment on.”

My gaze rakes over him—he’s wearing a black soft-shell jacket that brightens the color of his blue eyes, a crisp white t-shirt, and jeans. Nothing bright or bold. “You don’t do that.”

His flirty grin appears. “I don’t need to.”

I snort. “Well, obviously I do.”

He tugs on a lock of my hair, and it makes my scalp tingle in a pleasant way. “Buzz cut?”

I chuckle. “It’s a great look, but I’m not sure I can pull it off.”

A memory of a conversation I had with Kit floats into my head.I’ve always wanted to dye my hair purple,I told him.Since I was a little girl. A pale purple, like lavender.

He made a face.You don’t really want to do that to your hair, do you?he asked.It would look childish.Your hair is nice as it is.

God, he was annoying. He had this specific image of the ideal woman, and now that I’ve had some distance from the relationship and time to stack all these memories side by side, I see that I never fit that image.

I showed him glimpses of who I really am, and he discouraged it. What does that say about me?

Maybe he was right about the hair, though. It would be a lot. I doubt pale-purple hair would go over well in my stuffy corporate insuranceoffice.

Hayden nudges me with his elbow, watching my face. “What else is on that list?”

“Rule number four: always have a plan. That’s where you come in, of course. I’ve got everything else covered.”

Hayden doesn’t say anything, so I read the last one on the list.

“Rule number five: never get attached.” My mouth tugs up into a crooked smile, but it feels forced. “No chance of that, obviously.”

Hayden watches me for a long time. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

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