Page 96 of Single-Minded
Presley: Any chance you’re awake?
The dots that showed she was typing appeared instantly. I’d never been so relieved to see those dots as I was now.
Magnolia: But of course. What’s up? Everything okay?
I sucked in a long, shaky breath. Magnolia didn’t know about West and me. No one did except the three from the salon.
Presley: It’s a long story. Is it too late for a glass of wine?
Magnolia: Not too late at all. What do you have in mind?
Presley: I’ve got this big house, a few bottles of wine, and boy troubles.
Magnolia: Send me your address. I’ll be right over.
I’d planned to meet West at eight Sunday morning as usual to finish up the last construction details on the shop. Though there was a part of me that was tempted to skip it and let him labor through the final details himself, Magnolia and I had decided that wasn’t how it was going to go down.
This was my shop, and I wasn’t going to skip out on the work, nor was I going to let West think he’d broken me.
He’d broken my heart, yes. I’d spent hours last night bawling my eyes out as I spilled the story to Magnolia. But he couldn’t dampen my determination or my anticipation for The Bean Counter.
“You’ve got the hungover-but-hot look down,” Magnolia said as we walked down the sidewalk from the Dragonfly Diner toward my shop.
“Likewise, my friend.” We’d both showered and thrown our hair up, then put on just enough mascara to look not dead. “I don’t know how to thank you, Magnolia. You’re going so far above and beyond for me…” My voice caught, but I pushed the tears down. Not today. I wasn’t crying any more today.
Magnolia shrugged. “I’m glad you texted. No one should have to go through boy troubles—or any troubles—alone.”
“That goes both ways.”
I might have been doubtful of her when I first moved to town, but all doubts were gone. Whatever she’d done in the past, however she’d been before, now she was solid.
Solid was driving to my house at midnight in a downpour. Solid was sharing two bottles of wine and listening to me blubber about my very short story called West Aldridge while three pint-sized kittens crawled all over us. It was having a sleepover where we slept for no more than a few hours because of the wine and the talking. It was getting up extra early to hit the diner for breakfast, and it was Magnolia’s offer to help me in the shop all day for moral support so I wouldn’t have to be alone with West.
I’d already promised to spend at least as much time helping her with her business next door, but that was only the start of how grateful I was.
“Okay,” Magnolia said, looping our arms together as we neared my shop door. It was quarter after eight, so chances were good West was inside already. The paper was still up, so I couldn’t be sure. “Remember what we talked about,” she continued. “You’re calm. You’re cool. This is business as usual. He might be hot, but he’s stupid.”
I laughed in spite of my dread. “I love you.”
She leaned her head onto my shoulder. “Love you too. You. Got. This.”
I opened the door to the shop, raised my chin just enough to remind me I was the boss of this place, and led Magnolia in. “Morning,” I said in the blandest, most matter-of-fact tone without so much as a glance in West’s direction, even though I was fully aware he was working to my right.
“Hello, West,” Magnolia said in the most perfect “you’ve hurt my friend so we’re now enemies” tone.
There was a slight pause before he said, “Hey,” but I didn’t stop to look at him.
Magnolia and I breezed back to my office, leaving him in the front room.
As she came all the way inside, she held up a hand for a high five, grinning. “You did great,” she whispered. “Did you see how flustered he was?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t look at him.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. “He’s shook.”
Donning my imaginary armor, I shrugged and said, “His problem.”
“That’s my girl.” Magnolia glanced around. “Let’s get started. What are we doing first?”
