It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Chick Lit

by S. E. Babin

  * * *

  The four Buefreds sat down together at the North Hollywood Diner, just like old times, later that evening. One malt and five straws, like they used to do back when Sally was still with them. It was just a week until Christmas, and the diner was decorated top to bottom with whirling, flashing, clanging Christmas décor.

  “Things sure have changed a lot in a short amount of time,” Bonnie remarked. “My family is freaking out that we’re going to be living here now. The kids have never even been to California.”

  “Same here,” said Brandi. “Honestly, I’m just excited that my family wants to do this with me. I was afraid they’d tell me to go on ahead without them!”

  “Yes, this has been crazy. But great,” said Barbara. “My life was so dull for so long. Now I can barely keep up with all the changes.”

  “Yet,” said Brandi, “in a way, things have never felt more comfortable.”

  Dob Buefred nodded. “I feel better than I’ve felt in a long, long time.”

  “Here’s to changes,” Barbara said, raising the malt glass.

  “And to things staying the same,” Bonnie said, taking the glass from her sister’s hand and raising it even higher.

  “To being together for the holidays,” added Brandi.

  “And the rest of the year, too,” said Barbara.

  “And to your mother, rest her soul,” Dob said, his old, hazy gray eyes filling up with tears.

  “And to you, Dad,” said Brandi, nodding at her father.

  “And to you girls,” said Dob Buefred.

  “And above all else,” said Barbara, wanting to cheer up her family, “to butter cookies!”

  “To butter cookies!” Bonnie agreed.

  “To butter cookies!” hollered Dob, startling half the restaurant.

  “To butter cookies.” Brandi affirmed, feeling as warm and happy as she could ever remember feeling.

  About the Author

  Holly Tierney-Bedord lives in Madison, Wisconsin with her husband Bill and their dog Tyler. She is the author of over a dozen novels, including Murder at Mistletoe Manor, Right Under Your Nose: A Christmas Story, Surviving Valencia, and The Snowflake Valley Advice Fairy. To keep up with her new releases and specials, subscribe to her newsletter or connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.

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  Also by Holly Tierney-Bedord

  Right Under Your Nose: A Christmas Story

  Ring in the New Year

  The Snowflake Valley Advice Fairy

  Murder at Mistletoe Manor: A Mystery Novella

  Run Away Baby

  Surviving Valencia

  Bellamy’s Redemption

  Zeke and Angelique: Superstars

  Sunflowers and Second Chances

  Weekend Immune System

  Boots on the Ground: A Wrestling with Romance Novella

  Coached

  Jingle Bells & Social Fails

  Jax Abbey

  1

  “Reese,” hissed Nicole Bartlett, the newest hire at the Dogwood Estates Leasing Office. She held a handset up to her ear with one hand and covered the mouthpiece with the other. The greenish tint to her face and her shallow gasps of air made me think she was going to be sick.

  “I think this guy is…masturbating,” she hissed in disgust.

  Liz Fowler, my friend and coworker, let out a peal of laughter from her desk across the room.

  I groaned and looked up from my game of Angry Birds. “I called the police last time. It’s your turn.”

  Nicole’s mouth dropped open, and impossibly, her eyes stretched wider. “This has happened before?”

  “Three times in the past month.” Liz sighed and snapped her Us Weekly shut. “What are you still doing on the line? Hang up.”

  Nicole’s face shifted from sickly puce to bright pink like she’d been out in the sun for too long. She looked at the phone as if she didn’t know how it had gotten in her hand, then slammed it down.

  I leaned back in my chair, propped my feet up on the desk, and crossed my arms. “Tell you what, Nicole, why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

  Nicole looked just past me, her eyes vacant. “Are you sure?” she asked.

  Having been a fairly recent victim of Jay’s shenanigans myself, I sympathized with her.

  “Absolutely,” I answered. “We’ll go over the protocol for cleaning the fitness center tomorrow. Have a good one.”

  In a trance-like state, Nicole gathered her coat and left the room.

  Liz rose and arched her back like a cat before gliding across the room and perching on the corner of my desk. She raised her eyebrows.

  “I thought cleaning the fitness room was your responsibility.”

  I put my feet on the floor. “Correction: it’s the responsibility of the most recent hire, who just so happens to be Nicole.”

  Liz smirked. “Well played.”

  I was just about to answer when my phone vibrated on my desk. I snatched it up before Liz’s nosy self could see anything.

  It was my incredibly gorgeous, brilliant boyfriend of two months, Javier Delgado. Though our relationship had gotten off to a rocky start—the two of us squaring off over stolen éclairs, Javi lying to me about his occupation, and me dealing with an inferiority complex—we were still going strong. Honestly, I was head over heels for the guy.

  Free tonight? the text read.

  For you, always, I typed back. My thumb paused over the “send” button. Thinking better of it, I added a heart emoji to my message.

  “You look like you got the last chocolate-raspberry éclair at Cuppa,” Liz said. “Let me guess: it’s the boyfriend.”

  “Yes, if you must know.” I opened my desk drawer and pulled out my black, leather purse shaped like a cat’s head. “I’m headed out to meet a friend for lunch. I’ll be back at one thirty, okay?”

  Liz hopped off my desk, picked up my Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer candy jar, and selected two peanut butter Christmas trees from its depths before placing one hand on her hip.

  “And by one thirty, I’ll assume that means two thirty,” she said.

  I eased on my heavy coat, slid my sunglasses up over my nose, and gave Liz a bright smile. “You know me too well.”

  * * *

  A short while later, I found myself clutching my coat tighter around me and ducking my head against the cold as I raced up the sidewalk of downtown Wyndlake. Winters in the city tended to be fairly mild, but this year was colder than usual, and our local weatherman said we might see some snow. Even without the white stuff, Wyndlake looked more than ready for the winter holidays, a good thing seeing as Christmas was in two short weeks.

  Lampposts were adorned with giant snowflakes and candy canes made out of hundreds of LED lights. Wreaths hung on every shop window, and tinny Christmas carols floated along the street. I was sure the spicy scent of cinnamon and the clean pine smell were burned into my nostrils. I’d always been a fan of Christmas, but the city of Wyndlake took it to a whole new level.

  I breezed through the door of Ronnie’s Pizza Shop and stopped just inside, scanning the small restaurant for my close friend, Malcolm Whittier. Tall and gangly, with a penchant for bright-patterned sweaters and vibrant eyeglasses, he was easy to spot.

  I waved my hand above my head like a maniac. “Malcolm!”

  I approached the table, and in true Malcolm fashion, he rose from his seat. I gave him a hug and unwound the scratchy, knit scarf from my neck before I noticed the plastic tent with the number thirty-eight perched on the tabletop.

  “Did you already order?” I asked in surprise. Malcolm was such a gentleman he would take off his suit jacket and cover a puddle so a lady’s shoes wouldn’t get wet.

  The tips of his ears reddened. “I ordered for you, too. Two slices of pepperoni-and-pineapple and an order of garlic knots, right? Your drink cup’s over there.”r />
  I picked up my mouth from the floor and shook my head. “God, Malcolm, I’ve missed you.”

  Malcolm flushed again, and made to reach for the cup. “I can get—”

  I grabbed the cup before he could, and waved him off. “You’ve already done more than enough. I can get my own drink.”

  Thanks to the lunch rush, a line of people queued in front of the soda machine. By the time I’d managed to fill my cup with Sprite and fruit punch and make it back to Malcolm, our food had arrived at the table.

  “So,” I said once I’d settled myself. “How’d your date go last weekend?”

  Malcolm shook his head and ran a hand through the pouf of hair on the crown of his head. “It was…wonderful.”

  I frowned. “If it was so wonderful, why do you look upset? What happened? She didn’t like man bags?” I pointedly eyed the leather bag at his feet.

  Malcolm shuddered. “Emmeline happened.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Is that the girl you went out with?”

  “No, that’s Cara. Emmeline is her pet emerald tree boa.”

  “Her pet what?”

  “She has a pet snake,” Malcolm said.

  “And that’s a problem because…?” I gasped as a thought occurred to me. “Malcolm, did you go home with her?” I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “Did Emmeline bite you? Did Cara?”

  Malcolm launched into a coughing fit. “No! I found out about the snake and I had to end things before they even began. I have ophidiophobia.”

  My brow furrowed as I tried to figure out what he was talking about. “Speak English, Malcolm!”

  “I’m deathly afraid of snakes, Reese. Cara was beautiful and witty and intelligent. And she actually seemed interested in me. Of course it was too good to be true.”

  Malcolm had been single for all of his twenty-six years on the planet—and not by choice. Raised in a house full of women, he was the quintessential nice guy, and as such, always relegated to the friend zone. I felt bad for him because he was truly a great catch.

  “And you’re sure the snake’s a deal breaker?” I asked.

  “I don’t think I have a bigger one,” Malcolm answered.

  Not murder, cheating, or even wearing white after Labor Day, but snakes?

  Before I could say anything more, my phone vibrated on the tabletop. I glanced at the screen, then up at Malcolm.

  “It’s Javi. He says he’s taking me to dinner.”

  I typed out a reply. Yay! Where are we going?

  Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “You sound surprised that your boyfriend wants to take you out because…?”

  “Lately he’s been really wrapped up with his clients. I guess December must be a busy time for contract law.”

  “I’m sure he’d be with you if he could, Reese,” Malcolm said with a self-deprecating smile. “Just be glad you have someone.” He looked down at his plate and fiddled with a pizza crust.

  I immediately felt guilty. There I was, complaining to Malcolm about Javi not having time for me, but at least I had a significant other. By George, I was going to find Malcolm a girlfriend if it killed me. But it still sucked that these days it felt like Javi and I barely had time to exchange a quick text, let alone go out for a romantic dinner.

  “I’m sorry, Mal—”

  Malcolm lifted a hand to cut me off and mustered a half-hearted smile. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

  My phone vibrated again. Greedily, my eyes devoured the screen.

  It’s a surprise.

  My eyebrows shot into my hairline. A surprise? That was definitely out of the ordinary.

  I have something important to ask you.

  “Reese, say something,” Malcolm said, his face etched with concern. “Is something wrong?”

  “I asked Javi where we’re going for dinner, and he said it’s a surprise.”

  “That sounds fun,” Malcolm said. “Why do you look so perplexed?”

  “Because he followed up with ‘I have something important to ask you.’”

  Malcolm’s eyes got big and his mouth formed a perfect “O.”

  I gripped the table so hard my knuckles turned white. “You’re thinking what I’m thinking, right? He’s going to propose!”

  Malcolm bit his lip and narrowed his eyes in thought as if he were solving a particularly tricky crossword puzzle. “But you’ve only been dating for a month.”

  I scowled at him. “Nearly two months.”

  Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Okay, two months. Still, that doesn’t seem crazy to you?” He paused and pushed his glasses up on his nose with righteous indignation. “Especially given your relationship turbulence in the not-so-distant past?”

  My bubble of excitement deflated ever so slightly. Sure it was crazy, but why couldn’t it work? I was finally at the most stable point I’d been at in my life, and Javi had once told me that I was a nice breath of fresh air from his previous love interests.

  I hated to say it, but maybe Malcolm was just jealous. The old, self-absorbed, flaky Reese would have lashed out at him, but New Reese was going to take the high road. After all, I knew Malcolm really cared about me, and I knew how much it sucked to see friends go out with their significant others while I sat on the couch at home, watching reruns of The Nanny.

  I tried to keep my tone as even as possible. “Javi and I acknowledged our problems and dealt with them. I’m not saying our relationship is composed of kittens riding unicorns over a bridge made of rainbows, but we’re on the right path.”

  “What would Zoey say about this?” Malcolm asked.

  Zoey McCann, my best friend and roommate, was out of town, visiting her fiancé’s family for the week. Zoey normally acted as my conscience and sounding board for decision-making, but when she wasn’t there, Malcolm readily picked up the slack.

  I glared at him. “You and Zoey are two sides of the same coin. You know she’d back you up.” I still hadn’t forgotten the “life intervention” on which he and Zoey had conspired.

  Malcolm splayed his hands on the table and sighed. “Well, I know there’s no sense in trying to talk to you when you set your mind on something. Just be sure you’re making the best decision for yourself.”

  I stood and bundled myself in my outerwear. “Of course I’m going to, Malcolm. I just wish you could be happy for me.” I shouldered my bag and narrowed my eyes. “And if you tell Zoey before I do, I’ll slip an emerald tree boa into your bed.”

  2

  After leaving an ashen-faced Malcolm, I called Liz and got the rest of the day off by pretending to have a migraine. I knew she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t push the issue. I raced to the first nail salon I came across and got a deluxe manicure. As I drove home, I continued to admire the beautiful French tips at the ends of the fingers on my left hand. I tried to imagine what my ring finger would look like when adorned with a diamond. What kind of ring would Javi get?

  In my apartment, I ran a bubble bath with Zoey’s expensive, wonderful-smelling products, and soaked for a while before rifling through my closet and pulling on a lacy, navy blue cocktail dress. I was appreciating my curves in the mirror, when the intercom buzzed, letting me know my hot date had arrived.

  I all but skipped to the front door and pushed the button to allow Javi access to the building. Less than a minute later, there was a knock on the apartment door. I threw it open and drank in the sight of my boyfriend. As usual, his chocolaty brown eyes and perfectly wavy hair made me clutch at the base of my throat for my imaginary pearls.

  “You always look wonderful,” Javi said before giving me a brief peck on the lips, “but tonight you really outdid yourself. I’m glad I decided to spiff up.”

  I held out my arms and did a slow spin. “Oh, this old thing?”

  “It’s not just the dress—it’s you. You’re even more radiant than usual.”

  “Why, sir, you really know how to flatter a girl,” I cooed as I put a hand on his chest. I let my hand roam under his coat, trying to figure
out where he’d hidden the ring box.

  Javi groaned and removed my hand, but held it in his. “Reese, you know what that tone of voice does to me. Keep it up and we won’t make it to dinner.”

  No dinner meant no proposal. No proposal meant no engagement ring.

  “I’m starving,” I announced, all business. “Let’s go.” I let go of his hand and grabbed my coat from the back of the sofa.

  Javi blinked at me, then narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “That was a quick change in attitude.”

  I shrugged a shoulder, the picture of innocence. “I had a light lunch. Where are we going, anyway?”

  Javi smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s a surprise.”

  I smiled back at him as I wrapped my scarf around my neck. “Hopefully, the first of many.”

  Javi’s brow furrowed in confusion then relaxed. “I guess we’ll see. Come on, or we’re going to be late for our reservation.”

  * * *

  “Oh my God, Javi,” I said as he pulled up to Garcia’s. “This is the restaurant where we had our first date.”

  “Obviously, I know that,” Javi said, offering me his elbow. He tossed the keys to his Mercedes Benz to the valet and grinned down at me. “But I didn’t expect you to remember.”

  I wouldn’t normally let Javi—or anyone, for that matter—get away with a comment like that, but I was so excited that I let it slide. If I had any doubts about Javi proposing, they flew out of my head. Why would he bring me to the restaurant where we’d had our first date if he wasn’t planning to propose? How romantic!

  When would it happen? Probably not before our entrées arrived. Maybe the ring would be in my entrée…I’d have to make sure I ate slowly and took careful bites. If we were going to be taking engagement photos anytime soon I didn’t want chipped teeth ruining my blissful smile.

  What if there was a piñata? God, I hoped there was a piñata! Preferably one in the shape of ALF, but I’d be happy with a burro. Or maybe Javi would save the proposal until dessert. It was a classic move—