Page 2 of Ten Rules for Faking It
“Hmm.”
“A day worth celebrating.”
“Sure.” Her hand tightened on the knob.
“And to start that celebration, I’m going to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you,” Stacey said, taking a step closer.
Please no.“Pass.”
Stacey laughed. Everly turned the knob.Just a few more steps. Hold it together.
“You can’t escape.” Stacey started to sing. Loudly. Loudly enough that the rest of the station might hear and, God forbid, come join in.
Everly let go of the knob and took a step toward the deejay. “Stop,” she hissed.
Stacey shook her head and drew out the words, throwing her arms out dramatically, her voice growing louder. “Happy b—”
“Stacey Joanne Ryan, stop singing right now!”
Her friend’s words died abruptly. Fittingly, like radio silence. She blinked. “Huh?”
Everly hated that her breath shook along with her hands. She hadn’t been in love with the jerk or looking to have his babies. She’d thought if she tried to let him in on what was, to most people, a celebratory day, it would bring them closer.Ha. Any closer, you might have lost an eye.So much for putting herself out there. Blinking away tears, she did her best to give her friend a quick rundown.
“It. Is. Not. A. Happy. Birthday.” She leaned in closer, her chest uncomfortably tight. “None of them are particularly great, but this one is an epic disaster. I found Simon in bedwith his personal assistant this morning. You donotwant to know how she was assisting him. Lucky me, I stood there like an idiot until they finally noticed me. After which, I mumbled something incoherent and ran from the room, dropping bagels and coffee all over the floor. So, while I appreciate your friendship and your enthusiasm and your inexplicable love of acknowledging the date of my birth, I do not want to celebrate or be sung to. No cake. No presents. There’s a slight possibility I’ll want a stiff drink after work if you’re up for that. But if we go out? I don’t want to meet anyone. I don’t want anyone else buying me drinks. I want to forget what today is, forget what happened, and while I’m at it… you know what? You can throw men onto that list. I’m done.”
Stacey’s eyes widened at the same time her jaw dropped open. But Everly didn’t stop when her friend started to speak. That was what happened with a dormant volcano; it was quiet forever, and then it blew, destroying everything in its path.
She pointed at Stacey. “No birthdays. No men. Actually, you know what? I’ll amend that. If you happen to find a man who looks like Chris Pine, acts like Chris Hemsworth, smiles like Chris Pratt, and has a body like Chris Evans’s, I’ll rethink things. But until then? I am officially off the market.” She nodded as if she agreed with herself. She felt oddly exhausted after the outburst. “Understood?”
Stacey nodded, her lips trembling, and guilt crashed into Everly with a thud. The other woman’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. Everly hadn’t meant to be so cruel, but she was having a hell of a morning already and just wanted a few minutes to absorb what had happened. Now she’d done this. To someone who cared. Like the crash that followed a junk-food binge, all her energy and anger evaporated.
“I’m so sorry, Stace. That was completely uncalled for. I—”
“Stop. Stop talking. Right now.” She actually put her hand on Everly’s mouth.
Everly’s gasp was completely muffled, along with her wordswhen she tried to speak around her friend’s palm. Stacey shook her head frantically. “Stop. Stop. I’m so sorry.”
Why was she whispering? She tried to look around, but no one else was hovering nearby. Everly pushed at Stacey’s hand, but Stacey was surprisingly strong.
“We’re on-air, Ev. We’re live. Stop. I’m so sorry.”
Everly thought she knew what rock bottom felt like. She definitely knew itlookedlike a very tall, stacked blonde perched over her boyfriend. She hadn’t known, until this moment, that it was possible to fall further. At the bottom of the drop, the red On Air sign shone like a warning light. Mortification swamped her like high tide pulling her under. Her brain went a little fuzzy. Her skin tingled.
Stacey pulled her hand away, index finger at her lips, and backed away, swiping her hand over the control buttons. As soon as she’d done that, as soon as they weren’t live, her friend charged her with a tackle hug. “I am so sorry. What a jackass bastard. I cannot believe that. I will buy you as many drinks as you want. For life. You deserve it.”
No. No. She had not just announced to all the listeners that she was off men and the reason why. But she had. She couldn’t give a speech to a group of her closest friends, but she’d just shared her love life with thousands of listeners. Her stomach nose-dived even as her skin heated.No.Pulling out of Stacey’s embrace, she lost the battle against tears. Everly swiped the first few from her cheeks. “I can’t believe this. Why the hell were you live?”
Stacey’s face crumpled. “I wanted to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you on the air. To make you feel special. I’m so sorry I did this to you.”
They stood there staring at each other, and Everly felt like she’d slipped into a different dimension. One that was upside down and backward and full of potholes.
Luke, the morning janitor, popped his head in. “You got dead air, Stace.”
Stacey gasped and hurried to the board, pressing buttons.“Damn it! No. Okay, thanks, Luke. My bad.” Her eyes found Everly’s, and Everly could tell her friend wanted to say more, to apologize again. It wouldn’t change anything.
It just kept getting worse. Everly stepped backward, her hands up, her purse shifting awkwardly on her shoulder so she almost dropped it. “I can’t do this. We can’t talk about this right now. The day has barely started, and it’s already horrible. We need to get to work.” She could handle work. Quiet, solitude, and her job.
Hurrying into the production booth, she got herself set up and tried to avoid Stacey’s regretful gaze through the plexiglass. This birthday just got bumped up to a solid 9.5.Rule three: Stay home on birthdays.
