Yours Truly

by Jen Meyers

  Ever bit back a small smile, and the rest of The Girls gasped. But before anyone could say anything, she was holding up her hands and shaking her head.

  “No. We JUST got married, you guys!” She laughed. “Work is just really amazing.” Ever pulled a business card out of her clutch and slid it across the table to me. Over a watercolor wash of barely-there flowers were the words Ever Afters in gorgeous bold script. Then Everly Vaughn down in the bottom right corner with her number and website. “Lucky’s Almost-Wedding—don’t roll your eyes at me Lucky, this time it WAS almost—it really kickstarted my new business. I’m sure Olympia Nardini is a putrid shade of green right now.”

  I raised my glass. “May she rot in hell.”

  “In hell!” Everyone but Ever repeated, and we clinked our glasses together.

  “She wasn’t THAT bad,” Ever said, trying not to laugh.

  “You’re right,” Harmony said. “She was worse.”

  “God, she was awful.” Ever tapped her pink frosted fingernails on the table. “But I don’t have to deal with her anymore, so it’s all good.”

  Olympia, Ever’s old boss at Nardini Newlyweds, had unceremoniously fired her when Lucky’s dad had cancelled their account—LONG story, but let’s just say that Ever had gotten her own Happily Ever After when she’d been busy planning Lucky’s.

  And I’d gotten the best column of my career. All thanks to Lucky’s ex-fiancé, Ben. The rat bastard. Or fuckwad, as Summer had said.

  I nodded at Lucky. “What about you? Are you engaged again yet?” I teased.

  Truth be told, we’d all been surprised Lucky had even made it down the aisle. All her previous weddings had been called off much sooner.

  She narrowed her eyes, looking at me like she was the lion and I was the tasty gazelle. “No. I’m not even dating anyone right now.”

  “Well, of course you’re not.” Summer’s tight black curls bobbed as she nodded her head. “It’s only been a few weeks since you ALMOST got married.” Then she turned to me, grinning. “These things take time, you know. Like at least a month.”

  “Not with Lucky, they don’t,” Bliss said, then laughed when Lucky flicked some cosmo at her. “I’m just saying you’re decisive when it comes to getting engaged.”

  “Just not so much when it comes to actually getting married,” I said.

  “At least I’ve been asked.” Lucky pointed her finger at each of us. “Which is more than I can say for any of you. Except Ever, of course.”

  “Don’t point that thing at me,” I said. “I don’t want to be asked. I LIKE being single, and I have no intention of ever getting married.”

  Ever tipped her head to the side, considering me. “You talk a good game,” she said, “but I’m willing to bet you’re the most romantically-minded of all of us. EVEN Lucky. Your books speak the truth.” She nodded. “One of these days you’ll fall…just like everyone else.”

  “Not a chance.” I tipped my head back, draining the last of my drink. Then I focused on the bar. “I’m going for a refill—I need a date for my column.”

  Lucky threw a crushed-up napkin at me. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

  “I’m a REALIST. There’s a difference.”

  “You’re a pessimist,” Harmony said. “And that’s not good for you.”

  “Will…you’ve got to get over this, sweetie. It was so long ago.” Ever’s eyebrows had drawn together in the middle of her forehead.

  “Seriously,” Bliss said. “Lucky’s been engaged at least a dozen times since Dr. Heartworm dumped you.”

  “HEY.” Lucky slapped her palms on the table. “I’m right here, you know.” She picked up her cocktail a little too angrily, spilling some onto the table, while she mumbled, “And it’s only been four.”

  “I AM over it.” But a little voice inside whispered, Are you? I silently squashed it. Stupid voice. “Look, I’ve told you guys over and over again. He’s ancient history. I’m over him. Completely, one-hundred percent. And my not wanting to get married has nothing to do with him.”

  My not wanting a serious relationship, though, had EVERYTHING to do with him. And, yeah, okay, obviously the marriage thing, too, but they didn’t need to know that.

  The way I looked at it, I was learning from my mistakes. And I couldn’t help it if they didn’t like what I’d learned.

  “But, Will, there are plenty of good guys out there. You just have to open yourself up to the possibilities,” said Harmony.

  “What about Josh? He’s a good one.” Summer’s silver bracelets jangled as she reached for her glass, glinting prettily against the deep brown skin of her arms. Her long nails were the exact same mint green shade as her dress.

  Everything about Summer was elegant. And nothing about me was.

  I glanced at my hands, nails short and bare. It was a necessity. I had to be able to type, and long nails made that impossible. In fact, I had acrylics done once before this big swanky date, and when I sat down to work the next day it took me eight hours to type up my freaking column. I was ready to pull my own fingers off by the end of it. Never made that mistake again.

  In fact, I made a point of not ever making the same mistake twice.

  “Josh is a great guy,” I said, “but I’m not his type.”

  “What, he doesn’t like beautiful redheads?” Ever said.

  “No. He tends towards sporty women. And I’m…not.” I was many things, but sporty wasn’t one of them. I mean, I liked a good hike as much as the next person, but I wasn’t up for a marathon. Or a softball game. Or anything involving teams.

  Team. Ugh. Even the word made me shudder inwardly.

  If God gave out report cards on your life, She would write Doesn’t play well with others on mine. I’d never been into teamwork, whether it was sports or school projects. Working alone had always suited me best, which made writing a perfect fit. Living by myself, working by myself, and hanging out with my friends whenever I wanted—it was my dream life.

  I didn’t need a man to screw that up. Not even Josh. Why couldn’t my friends understand that?

  “Josh would be lucky to have you, Will,” Bliss said. “Any guy would. You’re amazing.”

  “Ditto.” I stood up and grabbed my glass. “Now, about that refill and a date. A girl’s gotta work.”

  Amidst protests, I walked toward the bar, my eyes scanning for the next guy. Someone, HOPEFULLY, who would quench my thirst…because I was getting a little tired of quenching it myself.

  four

  “You have the worst job for having a life, you know that?” Josh was throwing his laundry into the machine next to mine, not bothering to separate darks from lights. Just everything into one machine. He did this every week and it drove me crazy every single time. It was a wonder his white t-shirts weren’t pink.

  “What are you talking about? I have a fantastic life. What is it with everyone telling me it sucks? First The Girls and now you.” I shut the lid on one machine, threw the rest of my clothes into the other, and popped coins into each one. “What, exactly, is wrong with it?”

  He hauled himself up to sit on his washer and began ticking things off on his fingers.

  “You seek out men who are destined to disappoint, you work alone, and you work at night and sleep half of the day.” He looked at me like I was insane. “It’s like you’re trying to guarantee that you’ll always be alone.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, not seeing the problem. “I want to be alone. I like my life, Josh.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “And who are you to talk? You work alone in your workshop, right?”

  “Yes, but clients come by to pick stuff up and I meet with people regularly, talking over designs and their projects.” He took a breath and continued. “Unlike you, I’m not trying to become a hermit, which, granted, is not an easy thing to do in a city of millions. Though if anyone could do it, it would be you.”

  “I go out at least a couple times a week to meet guys and I go out on dates all the time. I do things with you,
The Girls…I’m out there a LOT.” I folded my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow at him. “You may have noticed.”

  He was shaking his head as he stared at me, clearly trying to come up with some other argument, but he couldn’t and he knew it. So he laughed and held up his hands in defeat.

  “Okay, fine. Maybe you’re not a hermit.” He smirked. “Yet.”

  He was quiet for a moment, watching a woman who was meticulously folding her laundry over by the dryers. Tonight he was definitely wound up about something but I had no idea what. He got this way sometimes. It was most often girlfriend-related and usually resolved itself in a few days.

  He had yet to meet anyone worthy of him. I mean, the ones I’d met sure hadn’t been. Not even close. But then, I had high standards for Josh. He deserved the best.

  “What are you doing tonight?” he said suddenly. “Or should I ask who?”

  “HA HA. I’m working. But I have a date tomorrow.” I put detergent into my machine, then hopped up onto the one next to Josh. “What about you?”

  “Date.” But the way he said it was like he was being sentenced. God, he was in a funk.

  “Don’t sound so excited about it.” I nudged him with my elbow. “I mean, you’re going to have the girl thinking you want to marry her if you’re acting like this tonight.” He rolled his eyes and pushed me away. “Come on, Josh,” I said. “She must be REALLY special.”

  “She is,” he said, “but she’s no Willow Truly.”

  “Well, I mean, no one is.” I shrugged. “But that’s probably a good thing. For you.” I poked him in the shoulder and he swatted at my hand.

  “What about you?” He turned to scrutinize me, and I leaned back a little because his gaze was a bit intense.

  “What about me?”

  “Who’s the guy?”

  “Just someone I met at the bar last night,” I said. “And he’s no Josh Fletcher, I can tell you that much.”

  “That, I already knew.” He snorted. “You’d have better luck if he was.”

  I stared at him for a moment, hopped off my washing machine, then grabbed his hand and pulled him off his, too.

  “Will—” He started to protest, but I cut him off.

  “Someone CLEARLY needs ice cream. You are in a SERIOUS mood, and this calls for drastic actions.” I grasped his hand in mine and tugged him toward the door. “Come on, we have time and I’m paying.”

  He let me pull him out to the street, and we walked side-by-side to a little ice cream shop. This was one of the things I loved about New York City. Almost anything you wanted or needed was just down the street no matter where you were.

  After the guy handed me my usual—dark chocolate chocolate chip, because this place didn’t carry my favorite…and there was no such thing as too much chocolate—Josh said, “How can you order the same thing every single time? Don’t you ever want to try something new?”

  I sucked the ice cream off my spoon, savoring the rich chocolaty sweetness on my tongue. I may have even moaned in ecstasy, at which Josh rolled his eyes.

  “If it ain’t broke—” I shrugged. “—don’t fix it.” I made a face and eyed his dish of maple bacon ice cream with suspicion. “What I don’t get is why you would get something different each time. Or why anyone would put MEAT in ice cream.”

  I shuddered because, seriously…ew.

  “Unlike you,” he said, making a show of taking a bite and chewing a piece of bacon with relish, “I am open to the possibilities. You should try it sometime. You just might like it.”

  I waved him off as we headed back down the block. “You’re not making this about me. It’s about you.” A guy on the sidewalk in front of me stopped suddenly. I skirted around him without a pause in our conversation. “Now, what’s going on with you today?”

  “Nothing,” he said, and put another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

  “Something.” I walked alongside him in silence, just waiting. I’d learned long ago that if I simply stayed quiet, he’d eventually tell me.

  “It was just a long week, that’s all.” He licked the back of his spoon. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

  “Oh, puh-lease,” I said. “That was hardly you taking it out on me. That was you needing a little ice cream therapy…which I am always happy to provide. And partake in.”

  “You’re the best kind of friend, Willow Truly.”

  I pointed my white plastic spoon at him. “Don’t you forget it.”

  “You’d never let me.” He threw one arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side. “So…riddle me this.”

  “Ooh! I LOVE riddles.”

  “I know.” He took a deep breath, like he was trying to find the right words. “What would you do if there was someone in your life you wanted to be with, but they were always with someone else?”

  “A-HA!” I thrust my finger into his chest, bringing us both to a halt in front of the glass double doors of the laundromat. “So THAT’s why you’re funky today. I KNEW there was a reason. Ice cream ALWAYS brings out the truth. It’s like a magical elixir.”

  He rolled his eyes and tried to push past me to go inside, but I wouldn’t let him. So he sighed loudly and took another spoonful as he waited for me to speak.

  I studied his face for a moment. “Does she know you’re interested?”

  He barked out a laugh. “She’s utterly clueless.”

  “Why haven’t you just told her?”

  Josh looked at me hard, then shook his head and glanced down the street. “It just hasn’t ever felt like the right time.”

  “When will it be?”

  “I don’t know.” He heaved a big sigh. “But it’s been going on for a while now, and honestly? It’s getting harder and harder.”

  “Maybe there’s no such thing as the right time. Maybe you need to just do it.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Carpe diem, baby. Seize the day. Or the girl…just not literally because that might be creepy.”

  But he was shaking his head, unconvinced. “I don’t know, Will. What if I scare her away? That’s the last thing I want to do.”

  “Holy shit…are you in love with this girl?”

  He looked at me with one eyebrow raised, his eyes narrowed. “Maybe,” he said through tight lips.

  “Oh my god, this is SERIOUS.” I laughed and he gently shoved my shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips. On impulse, I threw my arms around him and squeezed. “Josh,” I said, “you’re an amazing guy. She’d be stupid not to see that.”

  He snorted, but didn’t say anything. Just tightened his arms around me.

  “I’m no expert in the Love Department,” I said, my cheek pressed against his chest, his heart beating steady and strong in my ear. Such a soothing sound. “You, more than anyone, know that. But you’re going to have to tell her. It’s kind of a no-brainer.”

  His chin bumped against the top of my head as he nodded. “You’re probably right.” He gave me one last squeeze, then let go. “I just can’t lose her, Will.”

  “Then don’t.”

  Josh stared at me, his lips pressing together in an almost smile. Then he reached for the door. “Our stuff should be done by now.”

  I stood there watching him walk back in, the realization hitting me right between the eyes that someday he was going to leave me. Things were going to change. There was no preventing it. He’d fall in love—god, it sounded like he already had—and his future girlfriend wasn’t going to understand our friendship. She’d probably be threatened by me, and he’d have to ease himself out of my life. I mean, maybe we’d see each other occasionally, but it would never be like it was now.

  That sucked BUCKETS.

  No more laundry day, or getting groceries together, or ice cream runs. I wouldn’t be able to text him all the time. No more meeting up on the roof.

  And while I wanted Josh to be happy, to find the love of his life and live happily ever after, I wanted to keep him in my life, too.

  I just wished I cou
ld have both.

  five

  As I pop his button and slide down his zipper, I see something I never expected to see.

  My panties.

  How did I know they were mine, you ask, since I make a habit of telling you guys all the time that I never wear any? Because my girlfriends had my name monogrammed on them so if I ever did choose to wear them, I’d be able to tell they were mine the next morning.

  I know, I know—I have hilarious friends.

  “Like what you see?” he says, this shit-eating grin on his face. Like he really expects me to be turned on. Like it has never crossed his mind that some women will find it creepy that he’s been in their underwear drawer. And is actually IN their underwear.

  Like THIS girl.

  I’m not even sure how to handle this. My mind spins as I ease into it because clearly I cannot ignore the obvious.

  “Are those…mine?” I point at them—bright fuchsia silk and lace, WILLOW embroidered in big, swooping, aqua letters right across the front.

  My friends don’t do subtle.

  “Sexy, right?” he says, nodding like of course I’m going to agree. I fight the pressing urge to ask if this has EVER ACTUALLY WORKED before. Clearly it has or he wouldn’t be doing it.

  Let me just say this. Getting your freak on once you get to know someone is fine. But on the second date? Not so much.

  So guys, keep your freak in your pants…and out of my panties. And girls…steer clear.

  Yours Truly,

  Will

  A thump from out in the hall dragged my attention away from my column. I glanced at the clock. Almost ten o’clock. I’d been working for three and a half hours straight. My shoulders felt tight and my eyes were tired. Slipping off my glasses, I rubbed my eyes, then stretched my arms up over my head.