Page 6 of Things I Read About
I will probably get a next time with him! Another chance!
When it comes, I’m going to be ready.
And I’m going to do a lot more than justsay hi.
3
“I actually kinda wish we were staying, believe it or not.” Skye chuckles at herself. All the others have piled into the big black SUVs already.
“I do believe it,” I say back to her. She and Matt are borderline workaholics. I’m sure this weekend was good for their mental health.
Skye keeps talking as she digs through her bag for something. “Thanks for making Janie come out here. Her breakup has been really rough.”
“She’s hilarious.” I shrug. Janie is Skye’s best friend, but we bonded at Samantha’s wedding. Kat too.
“Sorry Mallory couldn’t come.”
I nod. “She and Valerie had their trip planned already.”
“Mallory and Valerie?” Skye laughs. “Holy crap. What are the chances Samantha ends up with twins and names them something that rhymes?”
I laugh, too. “Almost surely one hundred percent.”
“Totally!” She leans in and hugs me tight.
“C’mon Tiger, they’re already on the highway. Have fun, Sally!” Matt calls from inside their car.
“Do have fun. Go nuts. Like, totally, batshit crazy.”
I frown at Skye, confused.
She takes a step back and explains, “Crazy for you is like a normal Saturday for the rest of us. Plus, Janie won’t let you guys get up to anything too stupid.”
I roll my eyes.
“Love you, Sal,” she calls as she hops in.
“I love you too! Bye!” I call back.
I watch the last of the Canton motorcade pull away. For a second, I doubt myself. Maybe I should’ve convinced Skye or Sam to stay. Maybe Kat and Janie and I won’t gel here like we did in the Caribbean.
I sigh, as Skye slips out of my sight.
No. This is fine. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.Geoffrey Chaucer.The Canterbury Tales. 1476.
“Miss? Are you waiting for a car?” The valet asks.
I wonder how long I’ve been standing here staring at the spot where the SUV turned out of sight?
“Sorry, no.” I smile and turn back to head inside. I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass lobby wall to the side of the big rotating doors. I step closer, using the gleaming surface as a mirror. I look fine. But this week, I’m not content with fine. I bring a hand up to my hair and think.
An idea forms.
At least ten percent of the RomCom books I love include a makeover. It’s silly, of course, since a guy shouldn’t need a ball-gown-slow-mo-down-the-stairs moment to realize he’s in love with a woman. But damn if I don’t love those scenes.
The wind blows my long straight locks around as it pleases. I smile. I don’t enjoy those moments because the dumb-dumb at the foot of the stairs finally sees the light. I love them because the woman on the stairs, she feels like a trillion dollars on legs. She floats down those steps.
That’s it.
