by Anthology
“He wants to know when I’m free!” I cried, shoving the phone in her face.
She looked slightly alarmed as she took in my expression. “Is this is a surprise to you?”
I shook my head. “No. He said he would get in touch last night.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
How was she not getting this? The cutest guy I had ever seen, the guy who I was hoping to actually hook up with tonight, for the first time ever, wanted to know when I was free. Why wouldn’t I be freaking out?
“Shit,” I muttered, plopping down on the barstool so I could lean my head flat against the granite countertop. “I think I’m going to pass out.”
Elaine’s voice took on the firm, no-nonsense tone that indicated she was about to take charge. “Okay, breathe, Bella. Everything is fine.”
She set down the sippy cup she had been filling with milk for Lucy and came around to my side of the counter to rub my back. “You can do this. You’ve been on dates before—”
“Yeah, but not with anyone this cute.” Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. There had been a few guys, when I first started college, who had pursued me rather aggressively. At the time I had been flattered, if slightly bewildered, until it finally became clear to me that they were only interested in my family name. My uncle, Kiki’s dad, was one of the wealthiest entrepreneurs in the state. That was the kind of prestige that seemed to attach itself even to lowly cousins.
But Scott wouldn’t know any of that. We were hundreds of miles from home and I couldn’t think of a single way he could have figured out how much money my family had. He seemed to genuinely like me—and somehow that was the scariest thing of all.
“Scott is totally hot,” Elaine said calmly. “No arguments there. But so are you. You have nothing to worry about.”
I looked up at her and there was nothing but sincerity on her face. Then her eyes took on that familiar glint. “Of course, if you’re really going to give up the V to this guy, you might have a few things to worry about. Like—did you shave your legs?”
“Elaine,” I groaned, totally pissed at myself for having told her about the plan. It had seemed harmless at the time, our first night here, tipsy on wine and gigging in our bedroom. I had just seen Scott for the first time at dinner and had a difficult time keeping my mouth from gaping open for the entirety of the meal—I’m sure it was a really attractive look. So I had told Elaine that he would be the perfect guy to finally, finally hook up with. But now that I actually had a chance with him—
“I’m going to be sick.”
“Oh, come on,” she said, bumping my shoulder with her own. “I was only joking.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Elaine!”
Her face became serious. “Then don’t do anything. This isn’t the kind of thing you rush into, Bells.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m twenty-three. I’m the last person we know who hasn’t done this before.”
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t want you doing this unless you’re really, totally sure.”
I shook my head, too overwhelmed by the entire situation to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.
“Let’s just focus on one thing at a time, okay? Set a time for the date.”
I peered over her shoulder into the living room where Annie, Ginny, Jen, and Kiki were currently lounging, full glasses of wine in their hands, the fire rustling in the background. Danny and Maggie were playing with Legos in the dining room and the little ones were all sleeping. The girls seemed very eager to take advantage of their child free time, judging from the two empty bottles of wine on the counter behind Elaine. Out in the living room, Jen said something that made Annie howl with laughter, but I couldn’t make it out.
“I cannot go in there and ask them for time off to go on a date.”
Elaine rolled her eyes. “You can’t ask for a night off but you think you’re mature enough to have sex.”
“Hey—”
But she was grabbing the sippy cup for Lucy and heading back into the living room before I could voice my offense.
“Hey, you guys?” she asked as I scurried to catch up. “Do you think Bella can have a few hours off tonight?”
I could have killed her. Especially when every face in the room spun to face me. I could feel the blush rising on my cheeks.
“Did he call?” Kiki asked excitedly, sitting up from a lounging position so fast she nearly spilled her wine.
Elaine nodded, grinning at me. “He did. He only works until eight so he wants to have a late dinner.”
“OhmyGod!” Kiki cried, actually spilling her wine this time as she jumped up to run over to me. “This is so cool, Bella! Of course you can have the night off!”
My body was stiff as she threw her arms around me in a hug. “What are you going to wear?”
“I haven’t—I didn’t get that far.”
“We’ll help you,” she said quickly, releasing me. “I brought tons of clothes.”
“Of course you did,” Annie said, but Kiki was already tugging on my hand, pulling me toward her room.
“Hang on,” I protested, pulling back. “I don’t really feel comfortable taking the whole night—”
“Why?” Ginny asked. She was laying flat on the floor in front of the fire, her eyes closed, a half empty bottle of wine by her side. I had thought she was asleep.
“I’m supposed to be helping you guys. That’s why I’m here.”
“We can handle it for a few hours,” Jen said. She alone looked at least a little sober, perched on the loveseat in a cashmere wrap, her hair perfectly polished in a neat bob. “Even if these guys are total lushes.”
“Psh,” Annie said, waving her hands so wildly she knocked Jen in the face. “Most of the kids will be in bed by eight. And the boys will be back by then anyhow.”
“That’s right,” Kiki agreed. “They can babysit.”
“Gross,” Ginny said, her eyes still closed. “I hate it when people say that. They won’t babysit, they’ll take care of their own damn kids.” Suddenly she giggled. “Because I’m going to be way too drunk to do it.”
That set off Annie and Kiki as well. I wondered exactly how much wine they’d had since lunch.
“I don’t—”
“Oh, stop looking for excuses,” Elaine said. “You have the night off. Now text him back and tell him so.”
I looked around at their faces—Kiki excited, Elaine stern, Jen encouraging, Annie and Ginny with their eyes closed from too much wine—and couldn’t think of a single argument. If I wanted this to happen, it was time I stepped up.
“Okay. I’ll text him.”
Two hours later I found myself sitting on the barstool, which had been relocated into the center of the living room, my face encased in something goopy that smelled like seaweed, curlers in my hair, feeling like it probably would have been better if I’d never come to this stupid mountain in the first place.
“Ouch,” I cried, jerking my hand away from Elaine, who was wielding a nail file. “That hurt!”
“I barely touched you.”
“Here we go,” Ginny said, joining us with a tub full of soapy water which she plopped at my feet, spilling a good portion of it on the plush cream carpet. “Oops.” From the looks of the water level in the tub she had spilled a fair amount on the way in from the kitchen. “Put your feet in.”
I did as she requested. Over the last few hours I had discovered it was pointless arguing with any of them. They had decided that their afternoon project was going to be helping me get ready for my date. And, apparently, once these girls decided on something, that was what happened.
The water did feel nice on my feet, though I wasn’t sure why I needed a pedicure. We were at a freaking ski resort, for God’s sake. I doubted sandals were going to play into my outfit.
I voiced that concern when Kiki appeared with a plethora of nail polish bottles—seriously, who goes on vacation for a week with a dozen colors of nail polish?—and asked me
to pick one for my toes.
“He’s not going to see my toes,” I pointed out but she merely shook her head.
“But you’ll know they’re done and looking pretty. And feeling pretty will help you feel more confident.” She met my eyes, hers slightly concerned. “And God knows you need it.”
I sighed but didn’t argue anymore. Just like I didn’t argue when Annie plopped down at my feet with a jar of foot scrub and went to work exfoliating my heels and toes—even if it was totally bizarre to have a famous actress touching my feet. In my room back home I had a copy of Entertainment Weekly with her on the cover. I had saved it because she looked so kick-ass in her costume for the apocalyptic thriller she was staring in. I figured her look would be good inspiration for me as I made an effort to make my own life a little more kick ass.
And now she was giving me a pedicure.
“You shouldn’t be nervous,” she told me seriously, even though the wine kept her from focusing too well on my face. “You should never, ever let yourself get worked up over a guy.”
Ginny snorted, lining up several bottles of perfume on the console table behind the couch. “She says that, but you should have seen her when she was getting together with Nate. All of her female empowerment bullshit went right out the window.”
Annie flipped her off with a sugar-scrub-coated finger. “I’m just saying—it’s not worth getting upset over. Hopefully you’ll have a great time with him. But if you don’t… ” she shrugged. “His loss. Lots of fish in the… ” she paused, screwing up her face. “Shit. What was I saying?”
Ginny laughed. “God, you’re drunk. It’s not even dinner time.”
“This is my bachelorette party,” Annie said. “I’m allowed to be drunk whenever I want.”
I watched as the two girls bickered and laughed at each other. I hadn’t been quite sure what to make of Jen’s friends when Kiki first started to hang out with them. I had assumed that any friend of my cousin would be a carbon copy of her, just as all of her high school and college friends had been. And though I loved Kiki dearly, our relationship was complicated. For starters, I wasn’t much of a fan of the people she’d hung out with in high school and college.
She had met Jen first when my uncle hired Jen to plan Kiki’s wedding to Eric. And Jen had seemed the polar opposite of my cousin—serious, together, ambitious, glamorous without being so over-the-top girly. I had been shocked when they became actual friends, more shocked when they went to work together in their own event planning firm. After that, Jen involved Kiki in her own circle of friends—Ginny and Annie—and somehow, even though they were all so different, they really gelled. It was still strange to me to see Kiki joking around with Annie, queen of the rough-edged sarcasm, but I had stopped questioning it.
I looked down at Annie now. She had finished with the sugar scrub and was rubbing some kind of lotion into my feet. Even giving me a pedicure, even slightly drunk, she was gorgeous. Her red, curly hair was pulled up in a messy bun, making her thin pale neck appear even longer. Dressed in skinny jeans and a black tank top, she certainly didn’t look like a woman who had just had a baby mere weeks ago.
How would a girl like Annie deal with a date with a hot stranger? I doubted she would be shy. The idea was absurd—Annie would guide the conversation, laugh, be confident. She would tease and be sarcastic, just the way she was with Nate. She would have him wrapped around her finger in ten seconds flat.
It suddenly occurred to me that I could learn a lot from the girls that were attacking me with foot scrubs and nail polish bottles. I looked over Ginny, who had abandoned the perfume bottles to refill her wine glass. She could be a model. Even after three kids, which seemed totally unfair to me. My hips had never been that size or shape and I didn’t even have the excuse of pregnancy on my side. She had a slightly exotic look, long dark hair, a perfect figure. I would be surprised if she had ever been shy in front of a man in her life.
And then there was Jen. Jen who was always polished and put together. Jen with her warm, intelligent eyes and perfect hair and the cutest baby I’d ever seen. Who had planned Kiki’s wedding, a massive social affair, without a single hitch. Who had, if I’m honest with myself, married a guy I had long secretly had a crush on, Eric’s brother, Matt.
Kiki moved behind me, dousing my hair with another shot of hairspray, something she had been doing every fifteen minutes since putting in the curlers an hour ago. My older cousin had once been my idol, my best friend in everything I did. But somewhere a long the way we had veered off in different directions. I could never figure out how to balance my passion for school, my shyness, my anxiety about our family’s money with the loud, over-the-top persona of my cousin. But there was no denying that she was beautiful. And probably the nicest person in the world. Everyone loved Kiki—guys, other girls, her clients. My parents. She had a spark, something that drew you in.
These were the kind of women that got the guy, the kind of women that were sure of themselves, confident, beautiful. In fact, they were exactly the kind of women that I had always wished I could be.
“What about you?” I asked Ginny, keeping my voice light. “What’s your great dating advice?”
Annie choked on her wine, coughing hard. “Oh, God. Do not ask her. Wanna know how she caught Josh? She tried to make out with another guy in front of him and then puked in the bushes. You do not want to go down the Ginny McKensie road of seduction attempts.”
“Screw you,” Ginny said. “I was awesome at getting guys. Unlike someone else I could mention who has literally only had one boyfriend. Who just so happens to be the guy who knocked her up.”
Jen appeared at my side, a clean cloth in her hands. “I think it’s time for that mask to come off.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Any great dating advice?”
Jen scrunched up her nose. “Hmm. Just be yourself.”
“But,” Kiki interrupted, “a more, you know, friendly version of yourself.”
“I’m friendly!”
“I know, I know,” she insisted. “I just mean… maybe smile a little more. So he doesn’t think you’re so shy.”
“Yes, you could take a page from Kiki’s book and overpower him with the sheer force of your friendliness and excitement,” Jen said, rolling her eyes.
“Hey! It worked pretty well with Eric!”
“Yeah, once he got over the shock enough to actually be able to stand being around you.”
Kiki tossed a make-up brush at Jen but they were all laughing. As they continued to work on me, polishing and primping, I tried to laugh along, too. But inside I was keeping a mental list of everything they were saying.
I hadn’t done so well in the dating department on my own, that much was clear. Otherwise I wouldn’t be in this position, still an inexperienced virgin at twenty-three. For too long I had been letting the situation control me—my shyness, my anxiety about the family name. Letting my passion for school completely overwhelm anything resembling a social life. And look at where that had gotten me.
I had promised myself I would finally take control of that situation and I was starting to see the way to do that. I was simply going to take every last bit of their advice and apply it to my behavior tonight. Isabella Barker had never been able to get a guy interested on her own. Annie, Ginny, Kiki, and Jen had never had that problem. So maybe it was time for Isabella to stop being herself and start being more like them.
Chapter Three
This was not going well.
Granted, I hadn’t been on many dates in my life, but I’d heard enough about them from the girls at school—not to mention the incessant, excited chattering of Kiki when she’d first started dating Eric. I think I had gleaned enough from those conversations to understand when a date was working and when it wasn’t. And this one definitely wasn’t.
I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong.
I had taken Kiki’s advice about smiling a lot so Scott would know that I was having fun. I was making lots
of eye contact, per Jen’s suggestion, even though it was uncomfortable for me, so that he knew I was paying attention. I had tried Ginny’s hair flipping trick a few times, but the last time I did that he winced and moved his head a few inches, as if afraid I was going to whip him in the eyes with the strands. I’d even made an attempt at Annie’s cool self-assuredness, but I was pretty sure it had come off as conceited.
I was starting to have severe misgiving about my outfit, as well. The cap-sleeved, empire waist baby doll dress the girls had picked for me had seemed like a safe bet—made of a stretchy cotton, it wasn’t too tight or fancy and the deep slate blue seemed to set off my eyes nicely. In practice, however, the dress was way too short and plunged way too low—which made sense, seeing as how Kiki was about two inches shorter than me. At first I had ordered myself not to fiddle with the hem or the neckline—after all, Annie Duncan would wear any dress with confidence. But after a half hour of increasingly stilted small talk, I had taken to pulling at the neckline every few minutes. Or every few seconds. It was hard to tell when time seemed to be moving so slowly.
And my hair. God. Why had I let them convince me to wear my hair this big? When Jen, usually so sophisticated and understated in style, had agreed that it looked good on me, I had put away my misgivings. But now I was realizing that Jen had been every bit as tipsy as the other girls. Maybe her advice hadn’t been as solid as I had assumed. I tried to surreptitiously flatten it when Scott wasn’t looking but then pulled my hands away, worrying I would make it worse.
A bead of sweat dripped down my neck as Scott’s eyes searched the restaurant, darting back and forth, clearly trying to find anything else to focus on besides for the girl in front of him.
To put it simply, I was a mess. And I knew that Scott could tell. When I had met him in the lobby outside he had been friendly, flirtatious even. Though his eyes had widened considerably upon seeing my new look, I wasn’t one hundred percent convinced his expression was exactly appreciative. Everything had gone downhill since then. We’d tried to make small talk but I worried he’d be bored hearing about my med school applications. Instead I went into a long narrative about how cool it was to hang out with someone as famous as Annie. After a few minutes I noticed he started to look bored and I began to panic, shifting gears and telling him about the other celebrities I had met at various events with my uncle.