by Jillian Dodd
“Love potion?”
“Oh, yes. I’m serious. No more flings. I want to find a real boyfriend this time, and if drinking a few love potions makes it happen, I’m all for it.”
I laugh along with her, but in the back of my mind, I hope they actually work. I’ve been with so many guys lately, but none of them have stuck. None of them were the real deal. They were just a means to an end. I think Grandmother’s words are starting to settle in. I deserve more. I want more.
Just as we curl up on the couch to watch the first movie, there’s a scratch at the door.
Phoebe.
“What’s that?” Hayley asks.
“Phoebe. She must have gotten out of Matt’s apartment again. Hang on. Let me get her.”
When I open the door, Matt is standing there with a box of chocolates in hand and Phoebe sitting beside him, wearing a red bow.
“Well, hello, sweetheart. Did you bring me chocolates?”
“Uh-hmm, these are from me. Consider it a peace offering. Phoebe talked me into it. She said she missed you.” He peers over my shoulder when Hayley comes to stand behind me.
“What’s all this?” she asks.
“Oh, Matt and I had a little misunderstanding last week, and he thinks he can make up for it with a box of chocolates.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” Hayley coos, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
Is she flirting with him?
“Am I interrupting something? Where’s Man Bun? I thought he’d be here.”
“If you thought Rafe would be here, why did you knock?”
“Honestly, your room sounded pretty quiet, so I thought I’d take a chance.”
“Mmhmm. Sure. Let’s say I believe you and accept your apology, so we can get back to our girls’ night.”
“Girls’ night, huh? So, we can’t stay?”
“Well, Phoebe can because she’s a girl and could probably use some time away from you.”
“Ouch.”
“Fine. Come in. I’m not heartless.” I take the box of chocolates from him and open the door wider to let him in.
Phoebe immediately jumps onto the couch and curls up in the corner.
“Here. Have a love potion,” Hayley says, holding out a martini glass filled with a bright red concoction.
“Is this real?” Matt asks.
“I’m hoping so. I’m looking for a new man.” Hayley winks.
She’s totally flirting with him.
I try to change the subject, so we can stop talking about love potions.
“We’re about to watch a movie. It’s romantic and sappy and girlie. Can you sit and behave and not make snarky comments?”
“I’ll try my best, but can I talk to you privately for a minute?” Matt has a weird look on his face and turns toward the kitchen.
He leans against the counter, so we’re more face-to-face.
“Listen, Kitty, I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I made an ass of myself that day. I shouldn’t have freaked out.”
“It was sort of nice of you to do that,” I admit. “You thought I was being attacked, and you came to help me. I should’ve thanked you, but everything was so crazy. I couldn’t think straight. And I thought Phoebe was going to eat Rafe’s face.”
“She would have, if it meant protecting you,” he murmurs.
“Thank you. Really. And thank you for the chocolates. So, what’s happening? Why are you bringing your neighbor chocolates on Valentine’s Day instead of your girlfriend?”
“I’m living the single life again.” He takes a deep breath, staring at the floor.
I guess that explains Phoebe not needing to spend the night with me. “I’m sorry. What happened?”
“It didn’t work out. You should know how that goes by now.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Sorry. I can’t control myself sometimes. I have days of comebacks all stored up inside.”
“I guess I can allow that since you brought me chocolates. You know the way to a girl’s heart.” I don’t even mind that much. It’s easier, being friends than not. I won’t feel the need to avoid him anymore, practically sneaking in and out of the apartment to keep from running into him. That’s sort of a pain after a while.
“So … you didn’t answer my question about Man Bun.”
“He’s in LA. He got a movie role out there.”
“No shit! Wow. Good for him. When’s he coming back?”
“I don’t think he is. I think he’ll stay out there. I told you, he has what it takes.” I shrug when his brows lift.
“And how do you feel about that?”
“I feel like he’ll be a big star, and I’ll hopefully make a lot of money from the book I wrote about him. What do you want me to say?”
“You seem to be taking it well anyway.”
“It is what it is. He asked me to go out there with him, you know.”
He purses his lips, brows up around his hairline. “He did? And you’re still here?”
“Of course I am. I have too many things and people here. I wouldn’t want to leave Phoebe, for instance. I was afraid of what would happen to her if you spaced out and started leaving her alone overnight again.”
“Yeah. She would miss you. We had a long talk about it the other day. She was pretty serious.”
“I guess I need to stick around then.”
We share a smile.
“What’s up with Hayley?” he asks, pointing to the couch.
“Oh, right. We never talked about that. Turns out, the dude she was sleeping with was sleeping with somebody else in the department, and they ended up getting caught and fired.”
His eyes fly open wide. “No shit! This is what I miss when I skip too much time with you. Damn. What happened?”
“I’ll have to fill you in later, but let’s just say, the old Hayley is back, and I couldn’t be happier. Now, come on. Let’s watch the movie.”
Matt and I walk back out to where Hayley is snuggled up next to Phoebe.
“What took you guys so long in there? I was feeling neglected.”
“I just wanted to apologize to Kitty and make sure we were all good.”
“And we are,” I add. “Now, who needs another drink before we get started?”
Hayley raises her glass, and I fix another love potion.
Once we have our drinks, Hayley pipes up, “We need to toast. To finding love.”
“To finding love,” Matt and I reply in unison.
Phoebe barks and moves to the chair while we smoosh in together on the couch, so we can all see the laptop screen.
This isn’t turning out to be such a bad day after all. I’m right where I belong. In New York, between my two best friends.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Kitty Valentine!
Read the next book in Kitty’s dating adventures in Kitty Valentine dates the Best Man
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Kitty Valentine dates a Billionaire
Kitty Valentine dates a Doctor
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jillian Dodd is the USA Today best-selling author of more than thirty novels.
She writes fun romances with characters her readers fall in love with—from the boy next door in the That Boy trilogy to the daughter of a famous actress in The Keatyn Chronicles to a spy who might save the world in the Spy Girl series.
She adores writing big fat happily ever afters, wears a lot of pink, buys too many shoes, loves to travel, and is distracted by anything covered in glitter.
EXCERPT OF KITTY VALENTINE DATES A BEST MAN
CHAPTER ONE
“So, I have some news about work,” Hayley calmly says while rooting through my closet.
It’s been a few months since her inappropriate relationship with her boss came to an end when he was found sleeping with another staff member and got fired, so I can’t imagine it could have anything to do with that.
“Spill it.”
“Well … I might or might not be in consideration for junior associate depending on the outcome of a case I’m working on,” she says distractedly while pulling out another sundress.
“Hayley! Are you serious? That’s awesome.”
“I know. I’m in shock. I don’t want to jinx it, but I had to share.” She grabs my arms, and we start jumping up and down, practically trampling the clothes strewn all over my bedroom floor.
“They must have noticed your hard work and all those hours you’ve been putting in. I told you your brilliance and talent would pay off someday.”
“Well, I don’t want to celebrate yet. Since my old boss was fired, I’ve been doing all I can to show the new guy how professional and capable I am. I won’t know until after we get back from the wedding how this will play out.”
I hold up a long, flowy sundress, my eyebrows raised. “Is this worthy of a fabulous island resort?”
“For sure. You’ll look awesome.”
“You mean that?” I can’t help but feel a tiny bit skeptical. I mean, sure, I’m a best-selling author, and my grandmother has more money than God, but that doesn’t mean I’m accustomed to fancy-schmancy destination weddings at resorts that look like something out of a dream.
My eyes just about fell out of my head when Hayley first showed me the website for the resort at which her sister is getting married in a little over a week. Pristine white sand, water so clear that you can see straight through it to the bottom, infinity pools, jaw-dropping views of lush mountainsides in the distance.
And she’s taking me as her plus-one because she’s the best friend in the entire world, and neither one of us has a man in our lives right now, but I fully expect there will be plenty of men interested the second Hayley sits by the pool.
“You look awesome in just about everything, as if you didn’t know,” she chides with a grin before sorting through the handful of bathing suits in front of her.
I normally buy a new one every year, though I almost never have a reason to wear one. Weird, I know—though that’s hardly the weirdest thing about me.
“Anything worthwhile in the pile?”
“They’re all cute as hell. I’d have to see them on you though.”
“Eek. I didn’t know I’d actually have to wear them.”
She laughs. “Kitty.”
“I’ll probably wear a cover-up most of the time anyway. I have a couple of adorable caftans. I’ll look fabulous when sitting by the pool, sipping a fruity cocktail under a dramatic sun hat.”
“You’re young and gorgeous and hot. Why spend your time lounging in a caftan and sun hat when you can dive into the pool and make a dramatic exit with water pouring off your bronzed skin?”
Nice mental image, but it doesn’t stop me from snorting in disbelief. “Honey, I think you have your life and my life mixed up. I love you, I do, but you’re the bronzed goddess. I’m the girl walking behind you, slipping and falling on the water dripping from your skin.”
She laughs before throwing a balled-up bikini top at me. “Shut up. It’s almost boring, how hard you are on yourself. You’re beautiful, and you know it. You need a little confidence.”
“I need a lot of things.”
“Once we get there, you’ll see. You’re just as hot as any of the other girls who’ll be there.”
I bite my tongue since arguing isn’t getting me anywhere. It’s not that I think of myself as an ogre. It’s more like I’ve never seen myself as the type who lounges gracefully by the pool, being waited on hand and foot, catching the eye of a tanned stranger in a lounge chair across the way and beckoning him with a sly smile.
Dang it. Even my this will never happen fantasies end up looking like a romance-novel setup. Call it habit.
She stands with a satisfied look on her face. “I think a quick shopping trip is all you’ll need, and don’t even bother pouting and grumbling.”
“Not even a little?”
>
“Not even a little. You need something to wear to the actual wedding and maybe the rehearsal dinner, but I think you’ll be okay otherwise.” She goes to the vanity, where my jewelry box is open, and toys with a few pairs of earrings.
“What about activewear? Like sneakers and shorts. Didn’t you say there are tours and stuff on the schedule?”
She pulls a face that I catch sight of in the mirror. “Yawn. You can tell my mom had a hand in planning this event. Why we have to be there for a week is a mystery to me. The rest of the guests won’t even show up until right before the wedding. Two days at most.”
Only she would complain about a week in paradise. I, on the other hand, know a good deal when it lands in my lap. “Come on. It could be fun. Life can’t be all lounging by the pool and ordering daiquiris.”
“You close your lying mouth,” she warns, snapping the box shut. “I refuse to hear such blasphemy.”
“Come on.” I laugh, stepping over the piles of clothes. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m famished from all this planning.”
It’s easy for me to feel lighthearted right now. My latest book hit the market last week, and my editor is pleased with the sales so far. I’m thankfully back on the calendar for the rest of the year and starting to get used to this quick-turnaround business. I can afford to feel smiley and generous.
We’re on our way to dinner, walking in the early March sunshine, when Hayley brings up what’s been on my mind. “So, it looks like they’re pushing your e-books pretty hard. Your publisher, I mean.”
“You noticed that, huh?”
“I’ve seen a few ads for your latest. I guess I’m part of the target audience.” She rolls her eyes and blows out a heavy sigh. “As if I would be caught dead reading romance.”
I know she’s joking. It’s a common misconception that only bored housewives read them, but nothing could be further from the truth.