Page 93 of The Fine Art of Faking It
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said with an abundance of calm that she didn’t feel. “I think I’m going to go freshen up.”
Head held high, she marched past him to the restroom between the gluten-free treat aisle and the selection of goat milk soaps.
The ladies restroom was a lovely lavender and silver theme with a mural of the goddess Athena on the wall above the baby changing station. The mirrors over the sinks had inspirational quotes written on them. After a quick foot check under the stall doors, Eden lined herself up with the You Look Beautiful mirror and dialed Sammy.
“I am losing my damn mind!”
Sammy yawned mightily. “Huh?”
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“I was up early for horse sonograms,” Sammy yawned again. “What’s up?”
“No. Forget I called. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m awake and eating directly out of a carton of Rocky Road. What’s up?”
“I’m hiding out in the women’s restroom at Farm and Field having a life crisis.”
“Mm-hmm,” Sammy answered. “Any particular impetus for said life crisis?”
“I take it you didn’t seeThe Monthly Moonyet,” Eden said dryly.
“Hang on. Let me bring it up online.” Eden heard her friend’s fingers on her keyboard.
“Oh. Well, shit… oh my God. Is that a picture of you two naked?”
“What?” Eden hissed.
“Nothing. Forget I said anything. It’s kind of grainy. You’re in the front seat of a car. Wait, I thought you said it was just a fluke.”
“It was,” Eden insisted. “And so were the next seven times.”
“Seven? I really need to start dating,” Sammy sighed.
“Can we focus on my pain and suffering first? I promise we’ll get to your dismal dating life in a second.”
“Sorry. Focusing. So you’ve fluked eight times, and the town paper has just labeled you an unstable fire bug. Okay, go.”
“Sammy, I feel like everything is out of control. I’ve worked so hard to build this reputation, to not have people look at me as some irresponsible, arsonist teenager. And one time in bed with Davis, and I’m back to where I started.”
“Eight times,” Sammy corrected her.
Eden could hear Sammy’s ice cream spoon hit the sink. All of her years of work, of pushing to be seen as more than just a teenage screw-up, and now she was staring down at her teenage mugshot. The sad little Goth girl with eyeliner running down her face in the tracks of her tears. When she looked in the mirror she saw a woman now, lusting after Davis Gates—a man she could never have—and running off the rails.
“No one in town takesThe Monthly Moonseriously. We’ve all been the target of ‘local vet dates Bigfoot’ headlines. And everyone knows what a smart, kind, amazing business woman and asset to the community you are. So, I’m guessing what you’re really freaking out over is the fact that you can’t stop inviting Davis into your pants.”
Eden toed the purple tile mural on the floor. “Maybe.”
“You’ve spent your entire adult life hating the guy, and now everything’s different.”
“Also, maybe.”
“Have you considered that perhaps the universe is trying to tell you something about your quests for revenge?” Sammy asked.
“Quests?”
“Didn’t you just spend fifteen years holding a grudge against Davis? And are you or are you not currently involved in a plot to foil the Beautification Committee?”
