Page 53 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

I stood to pace my office as far as the phone cord would allow. “Construction is still on track. Tyler says we’re good on all the permits, and so far, there have been no delays.”

“I knew he was amazing,” she said, a wistfulness to her voice.

I scowled. “I just wanted to remind you I’ll be out Wednesday through Friday. I’m meeting with the maintenance crew tomorrow to make sure they can handle any emergencies that come up, and I’ll set up the phone to forward calls to you.”

“Have I told you that I love how on top of everything you are? You’ve always done such a good job for us.”

Her words were just another slap to the face. Did she mean any of them? We’d been colleagues for eight years, and suddenly, this office didn’t feel like a second home anymore. It felt like a cage. A lie. One I had to stay trapped in to keep my job and save enough for Grandma.

“Thanks,” I said, carrying on the act. “I’ll call you first thing Monday to touch base on anything I missed.”

“Perfect. Have a great day, girlie!”

She hung up, and I sat back down in my chair, defeated.

I really had loved this job, loved this company. I’d put years of my life toward it. Maybe it really was time for a change of scenery.

Since I didn’t have any tours scheduled this morning and I didn’t have to run rent checks to the bank until this afternoon, I clicked onto the computer and began looking for new jobs. By lunchtime, I had printed off my résumé to go over, along with a few listings I thought would be a good fit for me.

I ate my packed lunch at my desk, crossing out words on my résumé and replacing them with keywords from the job listings like I’d learned to in a professional development class. But I was so busy marking red, the sound of the door opening nearly scared me to death.

I hurriedly swiped my papers aside, setting them beneath a stack of apartment layouts, and smiled up at the intruder.

It was a young guy, barely twenty if I had to guess. “Hey,” he said, “I’m here for the tour?”

I nodded, getting back to business. “Come with me.”

27

Tyler

The third time in Cohen’s garage was far more comfortable than the first time. Especially when Cohen started the conversation by raising his beer to me. “Birdie said you and Hen had a great first date.”

Steve crooned happily and Jonas grinned at me, making my ears feel hot.

“How was it?” Steve asked. “Tell me you brought her flowers.”

Okay, now my neck and cheeks were red too. “Can’t show up to a first date without flowers.”

“Sheesh,” Jonas said. “You’re going to make the rest of us look bad. Better step up my game before Mara calls off the wedding.”

“Speaking of the wedding,” I said, “Henrietta invited me as her plus one. Are you sure it’s okay that I come?”

“Of course. Any friend of Hen’s is a friend of ours. And if you keep beating Cohen at Hold’em, you’ll be replacing him as best man.”

Cohen scowled at him. “Couple weeks of bad luck and all of a sudden I’m getting demoted.”

Steve tilted his head back and laughed. “You always were a sore loser.”

Cohen good-naturedly brushed off the heckling. “Your deal, Ty.”

I smiled slightly at the nickname, beginning to shuffle the deck. The sound mixed with the flutter of cardstock against my fingers was strangely settling. “Any plans for the bachelor party?”

I glanced up in time to see Jonas shrug. “That’s more of Mara’s thing.”

I raised my eyebrows. “A bachelor party?”

“The whole”—he waved his hand through the air—"stripper, drinking, penis-shaped-candy, party thing. We’ll be here, having a beer and playing poker if you want to join.”

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