Anger was currently powering me and Kate through the twelfth department of the evening, our arms draped to the brim with thousand-dollar watches, purses straight from Paris fashion shows, and dresses so exquisitely crafted that future archaeologists would probably deem that they had been created for royalty.
“And then he just smirked and said, ‘It’s not about money!’” I ranted to Kate as I slung a tennis bracelet into the cart; had to stock up on stocking stuffers early! “You know who says things like ‘it’s not about money?’ People who have so much money they’ve never had to worry about it in their entire lives! It’s like a fish saying ‘it’s not about water’ to a dehydrated camel!”
“Oooooh, look at this!” Kate held up a retro skirt in an adorable floral pattern that complemented her eyes. “Girl, keep hating Grant for as long as it takes for me to get this to the checkout counter.”
“I’m serious!”
“Oh hon, I know you are,” Kate said. She out skirt over the rack, and patted my shoulder. “But I also know that there’s a pretty thin line between love and hate sometimes. Stevie’s reading The Taming of the Shrew right now: ‘And where two raging fires meet together—’”
“Please, Katie, do not do Shakespearian analysis on my relationship with my boss!”
“‘Relationship,’ huh?” Kate waggled her eyebrows. “Sounds like it’s getting more serious. Have you two hooked up again? Was it as super-hot as last time?”
I was beginning to regret telling Kate about the hookup, but it had been unavoidable. When we met up after work, she had refused to budge one single inch until I dished about why I was so pissed at Grant, and somehow, between all the other stuff about the keys and credit card and the five hundred guest engagement party, the revelation of Grant eating me out against the hallway wall had come spilling out of my lips.
“No, we did not ‘hook up’ again, and believe me, I wish I could forget the last time.”
“Girl, never regret good sex,” Kate advised. “So it’s making your life rough right now, yeah, but ten years from now, when you’re in a tight spot and you need a little memory nudge to push you over the edge, you know what memory’s going to be your friend? Good sex is the gift that keeps on giving.”
I just shook my head. Kate had always been better at the sex-without-feelings thing than me, so how had I ended up the one in a loveless relationship while she was happily settled down?
As we rounded the corner into the jewelry department of the store, an advertisement caught my eye: a life-size photo of two ridiculously attractive models, the man on one knee with a ring box in his hand as he gazed adoringly into the eyes of the woman, her lips framing the word ‘yes.’ Little gold roses twined around the diamond of the ring he was offering her, and red roses twined around the edges of the billboard, framing the perfect couple.
It’s just a stupid advertisement, I told myself. It has nothing to do with you.
But there was something about the fairytale imagery they’d used, the roses and slight princessy cut of the woman’s dress, that made my heart twist. Maybe my dreams of love were childish, but sometimes those dreams were the hardest to let go of. Someone to kiss my forehead, someone to hold me tight, someone to look at me as though I were the most beautiful—no, the only—woman in the world…
It probably didn’t help that the male model in the picture had sun-kissed brown hair and blue eyes, and thus bore a slight but telling resemblance to Grant.
I didn’t want him! Not really. Not in my heart. I just liked his body, and the way he smiled, and the way he fit into that silly fairytale dream…
God, but it was hard when the man of your dreams was also the asshole who’d pressured you into a fake engagement.
My extended interior monologue gave Kate the opportunity to spot the ad, too. “Has he gotten you the wedding ring yet?”
“I’m sure he’s got an entire team working on it right now,” I said waspishly.
Kate rolled her eyes at me, but I was saved from further lecturing by the arrival of a salesperson.“Hello, ladies! May I just say you are looking divine today? Can I help you find anything, anything at all? I was just so excited to see the news about your engagement! You are just looking fabulous!”
There’s something a little alarming about being suddenly fawned over by people who would have turned up their nose at you before. It makes you start looking around for the mad scientist with the mind control ray.
“We’re fine, thanks,” I said, hoping the salesperson would just go away.
As though my words had been a magic spell, another salesperson popped up, this one identified by her name tag as the manager.“Jane, why don’t you take five.”
She smiled at me, not a fawning smile, just a regular smile like a normal human.
“Sorry, ma’am. She’s a bit of a gossip mag junkie. I’ve had to ask her a couple times to tone it down with the customers.”
“It’s all right,” I said, not wanting to get Jane in trouble.