“I meant, did you want me there for you, for moral support?” She’s wounded him.
“No, I’m good,” she answers brusquely.
She leans in and gives me a quick hug. “Sorry I keep cutting out on you. My goodness, this is becoming a ritual. I promise next time you’ll have my full, undivided attention.”
Blake is squinting at Caroline. If I had to guess what he was thinking, I guess he’s questioning why Caroline isn’t saying the same words to him.
She kisses him on the cheek and leaves.
He leans in toward me with a neutral expression and says, “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Sure.”
Chapter 11
We’re in a cool, industrial part of Atlanta, and Blake is snapping pictures left and right. He turns the camera on me several times, and I find myself blushing too often.
“So, Blake, do you have a plan?”
“What do you mean? Like a ten-year plan?”
I laugh. “No, like a plan for tonight.” Something tells me Blake has been asked a lot about his ten-year plan and he’s tired of it.
He hangs his camera strap across his body, grabs my hand, and pulls me down the street. “I always have a plan.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
We end up at the entrance of a warehouse where there’s a loud mechanical noise coming from the inside. He leads me through the metal roll-up door and instantly I see the track.
“Go-karts?” I say.
“Why not?” He’s trying to read my expression.
“I love go-karts. My brother and I used to save up to do this when we were kids. I didn’t even know this place was here.”
“You love this?”
“Yes,” I say emphatically.
“Well, then, it’s on. I’m very competitive.” I think back to Blake riding his motorcycle and the way he handled the BMW. I might have a formidable opponent.
“There was a plaque with my name on it at the old place we used to go to,” I deadpan. “It said Ultimate Champion directly below my name.” I open my eyes wide.
He reaches his hand out to shake mine, and in mock seriousness he says, “May the best man…or woman, win.” He immediately starts laughing the moment the words are out of his mouth. I don’t break a smile, which makes Blake laugh more.
We get all geared up and as we we’re waiting for the last group to end, Blake says, “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the go-karting type.”
“You mean go-karting ultimate champion?”
He’s staring at me. “You’re absolutely adorable, do you know that?”
Uh oh. This is getting out of hand.
“It’s my strategy for throwing you off your game. I wasn’t the ultimate champion for my driving skills alone.”
“Do you race Frankie?”
I laugh finally, and then it’s time for us to pick our go-karts. I run for the bright red one and Blake chases after me like he’s going for it, too. His tall body bumps into me and I nearly lose my balance, but I am undeterred. Though I will say his voice calling me adorable is running on a loop in my mind. Maybe it was his strategy. I jump in the red go-kart and he picks the blue right across from me, so we are essentially starting at the same point.
He points to his eyes and then to mine. I start laughing and then we’re off and he’s ahead of me. He takes the first turn tight and accelerates, gaining the lead. I floor it, crashing into the back of him, and we both go coasting across the track.
“No bumping!” yells some teenager who works there. Blake is shaking his head. “You play dirty!” he shouts.
“Ultimate champion,” I yell back and take off.
Now I’m in the lead, but I can sense him right behind me. I take a corner too fast, spin out, and Blake whizzes by me with one fist in the air.
All I can do is laugh. I realize I’ve been working so much lately that I needed this. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time.
Blake wins the race and when I step out of the cart, I say, “I let you have that one.”
“Uh-huh. Your little stunt on the last turn was totally intentional.” He’s being sarcastic.
I smile, shrug, and bat my stupid eyelashes. “Whatever you say.”
“Well, now we have some options,” he says as we return our helmets to the front.
“I’m intrigued.”
“Do you like banana splits?”
“Is that a real question?” I say.
“Yes,” he deadpans.
“Who doesn’t?”
“Do you like bourbon?”
I cock my head to the side. “Yes, I think.”
“I’m taking you to a place on Peachtree. It’s not fancy.”
As though I’d care. “What is this place you speak of?”
“The name doesn’t matter. All that matters is that when you order a banana split, they give you a free shot of bourbon.”
“Sounds like heaven.”
He pulls me along. “It is. Let’s go.”
On our walk there, Blake notices that it’s a little chilly and offers me his jacket, but I decline. “I left my sweater in your car,” I say.
“No worries, we’ll get it.”
But we don’t. Instead, we go straight to the bar, and end up adding a few extra bourbons to our check after polishing off two banana splits. When Blake wipes whipped cream from my bottom lip, I practically fall off my chair.
“Wow, steady now.”
I giggle. I’m feeling very tipsy. “I’m okay.” He’s staring at my mouth. I can feel our bodies getting closer and closer to each other. We’re about to kiss. Oh. My. God. We’re about to kiss. I pull away. This is wrong. I want him so badly—but I won’t take him away from Caroline.
“What was that?” I say. I would’ve never asked that question if I was sober.
He’s shaking his head. “I don’t know.” He looks up toward our waiter. “Check, please,” he says. He seems upset, but I don’t know if it’s toward me.
“Are you mad?” I ask him.
“No, it’s just getting late. I think I should get you home.” He won’t make eye contact with me.
“Okay,” I say.
“Let’s walk. I’ve had too much to drink.”
“Sure,” I say. I feel like crying. I’m so embarrassed. I wanted him to kiss me so badly.
Once we’re outside, he wraps his jacket around my shoulders. It smells like him. I want to keep it. I also want to know what the hell is going on. Are we falling for each other? Poor, sweet Caroline. I wonder if they named her after the Neil Diamond song. I think idly that there should be a song about an adulteress named Hayden. Neil Diamond should sing it in the same melody.
I feel a range of emotions. I’m also drunk.
Blake’s walking fast, but he’s holding my hand. Why is he holding my hand?
We get to my apartment door. “You okay, Hayden?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been quiet.”
“So have you.”
“Let’s talk then,” he says.
I touch his bare arm. “How come you always cover these tattoos up when we’re around Caroline?”
He shrugs. “Just a habit, I guess.” He looks up to the sky. It’s beautiful and clear. There are a million stars out. He says quietly, “I miss my mom. I’ve been clinging on to the Cromptons. They’re the only family I have left.”
“I understand that.”
“I’m not in love with her anymore and she’s not in love with me.”
Whoa.
“You’re not?”
“It’s like I can’t let go. If I let go I’ll never get to go back to the house where I spent so much time with my mother. The months right before she died.”
“They’ll always be in your memories, Blake. I don’t think the Cromptons will push you away. I’m not trying to convince you to do anything rash, by any means. But I sense a disconnect between you and Caroline…romantically. You have to
talk to her about it. Maybe you guys will remain friends.” It is really hard to talk this seriously about their relationship when I’m drunk and Blake’s scent is so intoxicating…
“I’m going to talk to her,” he says resolutely.
“Good,” I say.
He’s looking down at his feet. Fidgeting with his hands. He takes a deep breath, shoves his hands into his pockets, and looks up at me. “I wanted to kiss you back there. You know that, right?”
I nod. Why does this have to be so hard?
He shakes his head, making a frustrated sound. “I don’t cheat on Caroline.”
“I know you don’t!” I say, forcefully. “We just had too much to drink. It was stupid, and it’s late.”
“No. That’s not it. That’s not all of it, anyway.” He pulls his phone out and orders an Uber. “I’ll wait until you’re inside,” he says without looking at me.
“Okay, bye, I guess,” I say quietly.
He turns quickly and kisses me on the cheek in his normal Blake way, but his lips linger there for a second longer than usual.
“Bye,” he says. “Get some rest.”
I turn on my heel without another word and head into my building. This time when I watch him from the window he doesn’t look up. He just gets into the car and leaves. I climb up into my loft bed with my clothes still on and find myself crying softly. Why does it all have to be this hard? Why do I want the one man I can’t have?
Chapter 12
The next morning Caroline and I have plans to meet at my place. I wake up early and hit the shops right when they open, so I can pick out some new, edgier clothes for her. I’m determined to make nice with her and forget about what happened last night with Blake. I return with Frappuccinos, bagels, and seven bags filled with everything I can think of to build her a new wardrobe. She’s waiting outside my building when I arrive.
Though she says hi, she’s clearly distant at first, and I wonder if she has any clue about what almost happened between me and Blake. Or maybe Blake went home late last night and had that talk with her.
“Everything okay, Caroline?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m just thinking about the company. Worried about my dad.”
“We don’t have to do this today.”
“No, I need this,” she says.
“Are you sure you don’t want to spend this time with your family or Blake instead?”
“No, he was in the lab developing photos this morning, anyway.”
“Oh.”
Inside my apartment, Caroline quickly begins chomping on a bagel, so I start spreading the clothes out on the floor.
“Oh, I love them,” she says through a mouthful of bagel. “They’re perfect, Hayden.”
Everything I picked out has a trendy, chic edge, but I don’t include anything too bizarre or anything that could be perceived as racy. Just some pretty black lace blouses and cute boots, belts with metal buckles, and finally some leather for her wardrobe. Which I told her to pair with a white t-shirt and cute fedora. She loved that idea. It’s sexy without being trashy.
“See this?” I say, pointing to a pair of black high-waisted skinny jeans and a green velvet shirt with the shoulders cut out. “You can wear that anywhere…literally.”
“Not the office,” she says.
“Well, you have enough office clothes. Time to spend less time there anyway.”
“You sound like Blake.”
“But I thought you said you wanted to work less?” I ask.
“I do and I don’t. I don’t know what I want.”
I turn on some rock music, the kind that Caroline and Blake like. Caroline sucks down her Frappe while I put more clothes together in outfits strewn across the floor. We start dancing around and it feels like we’re really bonding again.
We’re having an absolute blast and then my doorbell rings. I turn the music down and Caroline says, “Who’s that?”
“I have no idea.”
I swing the door open with a smile and find Blake standing there holding out a coffee, my sweater, and a manila envelope. Crap. “Pictures I thought you’d like.” He’s smiling timidly. “And that’s for the hangover.” He hands the coffee to me along with my sweater.
Caroline peeks out from behind me. “Hangover?” Her voice is low.
Blake clears his throat. “Hayden had some drinks last night.”
“Why do you have her sweater, Blake?”
“I…I gave her a ride.”
“Oh, I bet you did. Are you two—”
“No! You don’t understand,” I say. This can’t be happening.
Caroline takes the envelope and pulls the pictures out. They’re all of me being goofy with Blake. They’re a little too intimate, I realize, but I was tipsy. Not that that’s an excuse.
“What the hell, Blake?” Caroline says. “What the hell, Hayden? I’m paying you to update my wardrobe, and instead you’re, what, digging your claws into my boyfriend?” Actually, Diana’s paying me, but that’s really beside the point…
Blake jumps in. “You practically forced us to hang around each other.”
I wince at that, but know Blake is just trying to do damage control.
“Because I’ve been working. Something you should be doing, too!” She’s yelling now. “Not flirting around town with my stylist.”
Oh, god, this is getting worse by the second.
“CC—”
“Don’t call me that!” she barks.
“I gave notice to your dad this morning. I’m sorry.”
Caroline takes what’s left of her Frappuccino, dumps it on Blake, grabs her purse, and storms out. I stare after her openmouthed.
Blake simply says, “I’m sorry, I have to get out of here and get some air,” and leaves the apartment. I watch them on the street. Caroline gets into her Mercedes and zooms off in one direction. Blake gets on his motorcycle and goes the other way.
Chapter 13
I’m not sure what to do. I’m staring at Blake’s photos, wondering how I let this mess happen. The photos are amazing. It’s hard not to think Blake was using me as a subject, or even—could it be?—a muse.
The first thing I do is call Caroline but she doesn’t answer. I text her an apology.
Me: I’m really sorry if it looked like something was going on with Blake and me but I promise there wasn’t. I want to be friends with you. I have all these clothes for you and I won’t charge your aunt a dime.
Caroline: Lose my number.
I curl up in a ball on my bed and start crying. How could everything have fallen apart so quickly? I cry myself to sleep until early evening when I’m startled away by my phone pinging.
Blake: I hope you’re okay. I think you should call Diana and tell her what happened. I think she’ll understand. I don’t know what’s going to happen with Caroline and me, but I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry I dragged you into it.
Me: It’s okay. I should have been more professional.
It’s true. I was being unprofessional. I am going to lose my two biggest clients because I couldn’t stop flirting. What if this is it for my career? I won’t be able to help my mom out and everyone will say “I told you so.”
I text Diana.
Me: Can we meet?
Diana: Sure, honey. You want to grab a bite?
The next night I meet Diana at Kevin Rathbun Steak. It’s very dark and certainly expensive but I’m sure she’ll cover it. Or maybe she won’t. I’m nervous.
When I arrive she’s already siting at a table. As I approach, she stands, and then kisses both of my cheeks. At least she doesn’t hate my guts yet. Then again, maybe she doesn’t know what happened.
“Caroline told me everything,” she says.
Aaaand yep, she knows what happened. “I’m so sorry, Diana. Everything got totally misconstrued.”
“Don’t apologize, dear, it was bound to happen. I’m telling you, Caroline and Blake are all wrong for each other. I don’t know why they’ve been holding o
n to each other all these years. But that’s not why we’re here, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, isn’t this about what we talked about? Going into business together?”
Saved by the bell. I wasn’t so sure if I was 100 percent ready to jump onto this business idea before, but now I really feel like I need this opportunity with Diana, especially since I’ve screwed things up with Caroline so badly and she’ll probably write a bad review about me on Yelp or something.
“Yes, Diana, I’ve put a lot of thought into it—”
“Before you say yes, there’s a catch.”
Oh no. “A catch?” I say.
“I want you to find a new man for Caroline. Prove to me you can handle both sides of the business.”
“But Blake—”
“It’s only a matter of time, honey.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I feel at least partially responsible for the initial demise of the two of them. If things completely fall apart between them I couldn’t imagine setting her up with someone else.”
“You weren’t responsible, trust me.” She waves the waiter over and orders an expensive bottle of champagne. “If it’s truly completely over between them, it was a long time coming. Besides, we should be celebrating right now. We’re going into business together!”
She looks up at the ceiling and smiles. “We’ll call the business Shopping for Love.”
My mind is already going a million miles an hour. How am I supposed to find Caroline a man when she won’t even talk to me? I can’t even find a man of my own!
It’s almost like Diana can read my mind because she says, “I know you can do this. All Caroline really needed was a little adjustment to her wardrobe to wake up and find herself. She’s not the person that she was when she and Blake first met. She’ll end up the CEO of her father’s company, without a doubt, and she’ll need someone who is just as driven to take that company to great heights. Blake is not that person. He’s wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but that is not his life’s passion, and they both deserve better.”
Maybe Blake and I were pushing Caroline to be more like us.
“I have some ideas,” I say. “But I need some time.”
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