“<span>Oh, babe, this is not a good look.”Mybest friend,Palmer, bursts through the front door of her apartment, mercilessly flicking on the overhead light of my bedroom.Andby “my bedroom,”Imean her living room couch, which has been my primary domain for the past few days since the night of my birthday.
Palmerdrops arge cardboard box on her living room coffee table, which has be my desk, my dresser, and my dining table.Ieye the slinky ck dress lying at the top of the box.
Sittingup,IgivePalmermy most unamused side nce. “Isaid pick up some<i ss="calibre2"fy</i>clothes.Mylittle”—well, technically<i ss="calibre2">medium</i>—“ck dress is notfortable.”
Palmergets in my face so her nose is barely an inch from my own.Hermakeup is wless as usual.Sheshould be giving lessons on contouring.Makeuptutorials might pay better than herckluster acting career.Theironic part is whilePalmeris phenomenal at makeup, she doesn’t need it.Hertone is perfectly even, her skin looks like she has no pores, and her bright baby blue eyes don’t need adornment.Theyare striking all by themselves.What’smore—Palmer’stinum, almost white-blond hair ispletely natural.Somewomen were just born in the light.
“Youdon’t needfortable.Youneed a sexy ck dress and to getid.”
Iresist rolling my eyes at her ridiculous statement. “Areyou offering?”
Shescrunches up her nose likeIsmell. “Maybe…if you shower first.”Shepeels away a piece of my hair that was glued to my cheek from dried drool.Snortinginughter,Int my palm against her forehead and push her away. “Idid pick up some of your sweatpants, though, so you’re wee.”N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.
“Ilove you.”Igive her a half-smile.
Palmer, my savior.Mybest—no, more urately, my only—friend in the world right now.It’snot because it’s hard for me to make friends.It’sjust hard for me to maintain them.Ilove to work.I<i ss="calibre2">love</i>my job.Myjob as a brand consultant is very social.Ispend a lot of my waking hours behind the scenes, researching and designing, but client meetings are still a huge chunk of my calendar.Virtualor not, it’s still<i ss="calibre2">social</i>.Ialso study people and their behavior all day.Researchingwhat makes people click, buy, and review.Myjob is creating connections, so my tolerance for social interaction outside of work is rtively low.ButPalmerdoesn’t let me go into the lonely cave.EverytimeIbury myself in manic obsessive work, she straps on a harness and dives into the depths to yank me out of the dark pits of my solitary confinement.Sheforces me to see sunshine.
Masoncalls us ufortably symbiotic and needy.Maybehe’s right…IneedPalmerto tell meIshould own at least one pair of shoes that don’t have the word fort” in their brand name andPalmerneeds me to tell her car wash bikini model is not a real job and will never allow her to n for retirement.
<i ss="calibre2">Mason…</i>Fuck.Ieven flinch whenIsay his name in my head.
Inod toward the box. “How’she doing?”
Palmerspins around and res at me from her kitchen.Shems two bottles of water on her kitchen countertop. “Wedon’t care howMasonis doing right now.”
“Palmer.”Inarrow my eyes. “Howdoes he look?”
Herhand trails down the taut line of her slim waist andnds on the slight curve of her hip. “Likeshit.”
<i ss="calibre2">Funny.</i>Hedumped me.Shouldn’the look relieved?
SinceIwalked out onMasonat the restaurant, we’ve had no contact outside of work.Wehave an unspoken agreement to stay cordial through work emails.We’renot in the process of onboarding any new clients and are mostly just maintaining current contracts.Itdoesn’t require a lot of intra-officemunication.Outsideof a few forwarded messages from clients asking forSEOanalytics and metric reports,MasonandIdon’t have anything pertinent to say to each other workwise.
But<i ss="calibre2">personally</i>, has been an entirely different story.
He’scalled a few times, butIdon’t answer.He’stexted me to ask howI’mdoing, whichIfind more patronizing than kind.Icould block him.ButIdon’t.Ilike for the phone to ring so he knowsI’mhere…just out of reach.HeknowsI’mstaying withPalmer, but he’s smart enough not toe here.Palmeronce threatened to chopMason’sdick off with gardening shears if he ever broke my heart.Whoknows what she’s capable of now that we’re living the reality.
“Aves.”Palmer’stone is drastically serious.Devoidof sass, she says, “It’stime to get up.Let’sgo for a walk and get some sunshine.Blockhim.You’renot<i ss="calibre2">this</i>weak.”
Isigh asIsmooth back my flyaways and pull my thick hair into a low, side-swept ponytail. “Doyou remember the timeIhad to pick you up from the border because your car was confiscated when you tried to sneak in like fifty bottles of cheap tequ fromTijuana?”
“Yes,” she says in a huff.
“Rememberhow you didn’t even have money to pay for gas for the return trip?”
Sherolls her eyes. “Yeah.”
“Andremember the timeIhad to drive toLasVegasand pick you up because you got drunk and got locked in what can only be described as some type of stripper birdcage contraption?Theywouldn’t let you out until you paid your massive bar tab—that you<i ss="calibre2">couldn’t</i>afford?”
Shesucks in air against her teeth. “Vaguely.”
“Mhmm, and who covered the bill?”
“Youdid,” she mumbles.
“Andremember when—”
“Oookay, what’s your point,Aves?ThatI’ma fuckup and you’re way more put together thanIam?”
Ipurse my lips. “No, honey.<i ss="calibre2">No.</i>”Ipress my fingertips against my closed eyelids and feel the cool metal on my ring finger against my cheek. “WhatI’mtrying to say isI’vehad your back through every situation—your highs and lows.Iam your biggest cheerleader.I’mthe one who told you smuggling cheap tequ over the border was just savvy shopping, that you can’t take your money to your grave so why hold onto it so hard, and that anyone with a blood alcohol level of point-one would of course willingly crawl into a stripper cage—you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”
Hereyes hit the ceiling. “Andyou believe none of that.”
Iblow out a breath and shake my head fervently. “Nota damn word.ButIlove you.Andmy job as your best friend is to support you and let youe through things in your own time and your own way.Rightnow,Ineed you to do the same.”
Hereyes lock onto the ring on my finger.<i ss="calibre2">WhyamIstill wearing this thing?</i>MaybeI’mpretending.Inmy mind,Ifound the damn thing in the cake, wiped it clean, slipped it on my finger to seeMasonon his knee, asking me to marry him…not dumping me.
“Didhe actually ask you?”
“What?”Isquint at her odd question.
“You’rewearing the ring.Hesaid he didn’t officially ask you…to marry him.”
<i ss="calibre2">Whata freaking odd thing to say.</i>“Youguys talked about it?”
IsentPalmerto get me some clothes and toiletries.Ididn’t realize she’d sit down to have a heart-to-heart withMason.
“No.”Sheshrugs. “Briefly,” she adds. “Obviously, we crossed paths and asIwas leaving,Iasked him why the hell he would propose to you, just to break up with you five secondster.Whenhe said he didn’t ask,Iasked if he wanted the ring back…”
Inarrow my eyes at her.<i ss="calibre2">That’snot your ce to ask,Palmer.</i>“Hetold me to keep it.”
“Odd.”
“Indeed.Inow own a guilty conscience, non-engagement ring.”<i ss="calibre2">Whichis worse than no ring at all.</i>Istare at my finger, knowingI’mgoing to need a vat ofVaselo get this off.WhywouldMasonbuy this in a ring size too small?Maybeit was wishful thinking.Maybehe thought a proposal would shrink me and by some miracleI’dsqueeze into his standards.<i ss="calibre2">Theass.</i>
Shepoints at me, her sparkly gold nail polish catching a glint of sun pouring in through the shades. “Youshould pawn it.”
Rising,Istretch my arms overhead and crack my fingers.Mymuscles resist like they are permanently frozen in the sit and lie position.Standing…moving…it all feels like a foreign concept and my body protests.I’velost four days of my life, moping.It’stime to get the blood flowing again. “I’mgoing for a coffee.CanIget you something?”Igrab my purse from the floor and sling it around my shoulder.
Palmer’seyes turn to slits. “Youbetter not be going to see him.Iwon’t let my best friend beg her ex to take her back.Hedoesn’t deserve you.”
Ilove her with my whole heart, but her bossiness triggers me.I’malready torn and tormented, and right nowIdon’t need anyone telling me whatIam or am not allowed to do.Myheart is bleeding, my jealousy is on fire, and my head is exploding…I’malready juggling too many emotions.
“Palmer,<i ss="calibre2">please</i>.I’mthirty years old.Youhave to let me breathe.IsaidI’mgoing to get coffee, but if and whenIchoose to talk toMason,Iwon’t be asking for your permission.”
“Well, you’re staying here indefinitely, right?Ithought my job was to protect you from yourself?”Herlips press into a hard line.Herwhole demeanor is overly agitated.I’mnot proud to say this, but right nowIkind of wishIhad a friend to tell me that<i ss="calibre2">if</i>Iwanted to salvage my rtionship, it was an option.Maybeit’s a long, hard, broken road, but ifIwanted to win him back, the path is still an option.
Thetruth isMasoncould’ve cheated and gotten away with this.Iwould’ve been none the wiser.Itrusted him so much,Inever suspected a damn thing.Ifhe was really a pig, he could’ve just lied…Buthe told the truth.Hewasn’t happy.Ishe wrong for not wanting tomit to a life ofckluster sex?DidIy a role in the demise of our rtionship?Inever knew he wanted the<i ss="calibre2"></i>sexy girl.Ithought loyalty, kindness, patience, and intelligence were enough.AmIdumb for thinking our situation was enough to make him happy?
Andthe biggest question—wasIhappy?OrwasIjust goal-focused?AmIeven ready to ask that question that will unravel the past four years of my life?
<i ss="calibre2">No.</i>
Iwant some peace and quiet.
Iwant to not pick at the wound while it’s so fresh.
Iwant to stop feeling so broken, weak, and insecure.
<i ss="calibre2">Iwant an overpriced fancy coffee.</i>
“Icedskinny caramel mhiato with no drizzle?”IaskPalmer, making my intentions clear.I’mgoing whereIwant, whether you like it or not.
Shenods reluctantly. “Thankyou.”
Iblow her a kiss asIpass the kitchen to make my way to the front door.
“Wait, you’re going right now?”
“Yes?”Iscrunch up my face, confused at her surprise.
“Lookinglike that?”Sheeyes me up and down.
<i ss="calibre2">Fuckinggeez,Palmer.</i>Imean, she’s not wrong.Mypajama shorts are frayed a little at the bottom.Mybaggie beigeT-shirt looks like it came from aGoodwill’sreject pile.Butfor the love ofGod,I’min my mourning phase of the breakup.<i ss="calibre2">Letme mourn.</i>
“I’mgoing through the drive-through,”Isay haughtily and slip out the door before she can say another damn word.
Thenormally obnoxiously long line at theStarbucksdrive-through is quick today.Soquick, in fact, that after picking up a hottte for myself andPalmer’siced drink,Icircle back to the parking lot, roll my windows down, and grant myself a moment of quiet.
I’mstill agitated at our interaction and am in no hurry to run back to her apartment.Ican’t go home.It’sclearIcan’t keep holing away at my friend’s ce unlessIdevelop rubber skin so her bossy, passive-aggressive jabs can bounce right off of me.Iforgive her becausePalmerhas the best intentions and she’s the only friendIhave who would immediately drop what she’s doing, scoop me up from a restaurant on the opposite side of town, and hold me all night whileIcried on her shoulder.She’salso the friend who thinks vodka is a perfectly appropriate way to start the morning.That’sexactly the energyIneed right now after having my boyfriend of four years tell me that instead of marrying me, he wants to sample his other options.
Ipromised myselfIwouldn’t look her up.
<i ss="calibre2">Butdammit, it’d be so easy.</i>
Maura…from the gym…who is a trainer.IbetIcould go toEdgeFitness’swebsite right now, scroll to the staff page, and see her beautiful face and perfectly shaped body.There’sno doubt in my mind this woman is stunning.Ibet inparisonIlook like a bump on a pickle.Ijust didn’t knowMasonwas<i ss="calibre2">looking.</i>IknowIshouldn’t check her out.It’sonly going to drive me absolutely insane.Thenext two years of my life will be aparison game to this woman who will be a beauty beacon in my mind.What’sthe point?Whytorture myself?
<i ss="calibre2">Curiosity…that’s why.</i>
Ilet my fingers dance over the keyboard letters…-dot-edge—
Myphone rings, startling me and yanking me away from temptation.BynowIjust assume it’sMason, soIinstinctively move to hit the decline button.Instead,DexterHesslershes across the screen—one of my favorite long-term clients.Ip a perky smile on my face even though he can’t see me.
“Hello?”
“Avery.Helloooo.”Dex’scheery voice is so loud through the car’sBluetoothIhave to lunge for the volume button to turn his energy down.<i ss="calibre2">Whew.</i>“Sorryto call you on aSaturday.Ihate being<i ss="calibre2">that</i>client.”
“Noproblem at all,Dex.Howare you?”
“Fuckin’ great!Thisis a happy call, by the way, whereItell you that the egregious amount of moneyIpaid you andMasonwas well worth it andIearned it back tenfold.”
Ichuckle. “dto hear it.Careto share the specifics?”
“Webooked the entire summer for guided tours.Everysingle slot is filled and the trip is more than funded.Notto mention the entire line of the newAqualungfins and wetsuits are sold out.Thegear hasn’t even shipped yet.Mymind is blown.”
Diveand surf shops are wildlypetitive.Dexneeded an edge to make his little businesspetitive.MasonandIloved working on developing theBestFishesbrand.Dexdidn’t even have a real logo and his marketing package was messy.Iinvented an entire new look, defined a color palette, and curated entirely new brand messaging.WhileIworked withDexto increase his social media presence by making one-minute educational videos of gear care, emergency preparation, and the different types of scuba certifications,Masondove intoSEO.IfyouGooglescuba shops in the state ofCalifornia,BestFishesnow shows up on the first page, which was a nearly impossible feat for apany based inLasVegas, over five hours away from theCaliforniabeaches where they certify their students.
“Dex,I’mso happy to hear it.Whereare you starting the guided tours?”
“Cozumel.Thenoff to theCaymanInds.”
“Incredible.”
“Hey,Ihave an idea.Doyou want toe on one trip?Justpay your way in travel andI’vegot you covered for the tour, gear, and everything else.It’sgoing to be beautiful.”
<i ss="calibre2">Sharks?Mein a skintight wet suit?</i>Botparable threats.
“No, thanks.I’mnot a big water person.”
“Yetyou live inCalifornia?”
“Anyway…”Itake a long sip from my hot coffee.WhyI’mdrinking hot coffee in the eighty-degree weather,Idon’t know.It’sa thing of mine.Tome, coffee was meant to be brewed<i ss="calibre2">and</i>served hot.Iwould sip on a piping hottte in the mes of hell. “Youenjoy your trip, just make sure your content manager stays on top of consistent posting.MasonandIwill handle the web traffic and make sure we’re staying on top of the search resultspetition.Butright now, social is what’s really going to continue to drive sales—brand presence.Sodon’t let your social guy ck, okay?Youcan always call me if you need a helping hand while you guys are traveling.”
“You’reamazing,Avery.You’redue for a raise—”
“Youpay us plenty.”
“Thankyou.Ifeel likeIcan go into this summer worry-free.You’vehandled everything.Well, almost…”Hetrails off.Iwait for a moment as it’s obvious he’s texting.Whenhe doesn’t continue,Ijump back in.
“Isthere something elseIcan help you with,Dex?”
“Sorry,” he mutters distractedly.Hesounds far away like he pulled the phone away from his ear. “Anotherone bites the dust.”Hegrumbles in agitation.Givingme his full attention again, he says, “Youwouldn’t happen to know anyone who doesn’t already have summer ns and needs a job, would you?”
“Doyou need another assistant for the scuba tours?”It’snot my typical job, butI’mhappy to research anything forDex.He’ssuch a good client and always in a good mood.I’msure it has something to do with his family money and wanting for nothing.Whilehe desperately needed help with his business, he works because he likes to, not because he has to. “Wecould do a listing for a summer assistant job, but you’d probably have to include travel expenses and meals for perks.”
Hughs. “Ohno,Ihave enough hands on deck for the tours and enough mouths to feed.Ineed a pet sitter for the summer.”
“Youhave a pet?”That’sodd.Dextravels so much.Hislife mission is to explore every inch of every sea and ocean in the world.He’sgoing to be brain-dead by the time he’s fifty from all the time he spends breathing from an oxygen tank and living in the pressurized depths of the world below.
“Sortof.Moreof a<i ss="calibre2">house</i>sitter,” he exins. “Ihave a guy who maintains my aquariums, butIneed someone there to feed some of my saltwater fish daily.Theyare somewhat high-maintenance.Autofeeders are good for maybe a week or two, but not the whole summer.Thisis the longestI’llbe away from home andIcan’t risk losing my fish, nor doIwant to get pped with all theseHOAfines.”
“Youtravel all the time.Whonormally feeds your fish?”
“Employeesfrom the dive shop.Or, my next-door neighbor is always willing to lend a hand.Butthat’s for a couple of days here and there.Maintainingtropical saltwater fish and tanks is way more involved than just feeding them andIcan’t take over his entire summer.Notto mention there was that one time he poisoned myDamselfishwithFruitLoops.Iquestion his ability to handle this.”
Ibalk. “Yourneighbor tried to kill your fish?”
“<i ss="calibre2">Noton purpose.</i>Hecouldn’t find more fish food and didn’t want them to go hungry.”
Isnicker to myself asIperk up in my seat, tasting my reckless words before they fall out of my mouth. “Justfor the summer?”<i ss="calibre2">Justenough time for me to figure out my next steps.</i>
“Yeah.I’veasked around, but so far, the only people who are interested are wild-ass college students on break who just want a free house to host orgies after getting shit-faced on theStrip.”
“I’lldo it.”
“What?”
“I’llstay at your ce for the summer, feed your fish, and make sure everything you need gets done.Imost definitely don’t do orgies, and after three years of working together, let’s hope you already know you can trust me.”
“Areyou serious?Howmuch would you charge?”
“Free.”<i ss="calibre2">You’redoing me a favor.</i>
“You’rekidding.Masonwould be okay with moving for the summer?”
Igrumble asItake another sip of my white chocte mocha. “Okay, one cost.It’djust be me and you can’t ask me why or aboutMason.Deal?”
“Deal.”Ican tell by his tone he has questions, but as instructed, he sidesteps his concern. “Okay, well, great!Damn,Avery, you’re really saving my ass here.I’lltext you all the details.Ihave a really nice ce.Iswear you’ll love it.I’llhave it professionally cleaned andI’llclear out my drawers and stuff so you can take over the master bedroom if you want.AndtheLasVegasStripis only like fifteen minutes from my ce when you feel like going out.”
Ince down at my baggy whiteT-shirt.<i ss="calibre2">Highlyunlikely.</i>Iwant to useDex’sce as a hideout whileIcollect my thoughts.<i ss="calibre2">Out</i>requires talking to people.<i ss="calibre2">In</i>is whatI’maiming for. “Whendo you need me?”
“Thesooner the better, actually.IfIhad your help,Imight be able to squeeze in a dive toCancunfor just me and my girlfriend before the summer craziness starts.Howsoon is too soon?Doyou need to get things sorted with work first?”
Ican work from anywhere.LasVegasis a five-hour drive from the outskirts ofL.A.I’dneed exactly eight hours—one to sneak into my apartment and collect a few things, one to get my oil changed at theOilExpressup the road, one hour to exin myself toPalmer, then five for the drive.ButI’mnot trying toe off<i ss="calibre2">that</i>desperate.Istare at the ring still wedged onto my left finger.Ina fit of excitement, or maybe rage,Ifinally rip it off my finger, which seems to have shrunk the tenth of an inch necessary to relieve me of this diamond burden.
“How’snextThursday?Givesyou time to show me the ropes and take off before the weekend?”
“Perfect,”Dexsays. “I’llmake the arrangements.Avery,<i ss="calibre2">thank you</i>.You’remy lifesaver in all things now.”
<i ss="calibre2">No, no,Dex…</i>
<i ss="calibre2">Thankyou.</i>