Liam gives me a sideways look as he pulls into traffic, cutting off a large SUV and accelerating into the left turn lane for the freeway. I had called him for a ride home after Max had taken my car this morning. I had been hoping Max would check in to see if I had found his keys, but I hadn’t heard from him all day, causing my imagination to run wild about what was going on between him and Courtney at work. On a seemingly endless loop, images of the two of them flirting flashed through my mind. I saw Max accidentally brushing Courtney’s arm and feeling an electric pulse shoot through him as he guided her down the narrow hallway to the conference room where she’d meet the others on the creative team. I pictured her making excuses to stop by his office to find out where she could stock up on staplers and hole punches. I could even see Max lingering in her doorway, then casually inviting her to lunch at his favorite bistro just around the corner. Finally, when I couldn’t take it anymore, I’d closed my office door, squeezed my eyes shut until darkness enveloped me, and yelled, “Stop!” at the top of my lungs
“I thought you’d be happy. If I recall, you’re the one who set this whole relationship in motion,” Liam says, raising his voice over the sounds of the freeway. I grab my hair and twist it into a braid to block the wind’s effect.
“I’m sorry,” I say, boosting my voice to match his. “I am happy for you. I just don’t want her to change you.”
“To charge me?” he asks, an incredulous look spreading across his face. “Why would she charge me? She’s not a prostitute!”
“Change you!” I yell as we pass a semi, the exhaust from its tailpipe stinging my nostrils. “Like this!” I spread my arms wide. “Speeding down the 405 in a flashy sports car? Screaming at each other over the motorcycles and trucks? This isn’t you! You don’t even like sitting on the patio at the Newsroom Cafe! Because too many cars pass by on Robertson!”
Liam says nothing as he navigates off the freeway, pulling over onto a side street and pressing a button that efficiently brings the top up around us. “Do you really think driving a Porsche for a few days is going to change me, Kate? You think I’m that shallow?”
“No, of course not,” I say with my head down. “It’s just, look at you—four-hundred-dollar Gucci sunglasses and, wait, is that a Chanel shirt?” I ask, remembering the Calvin Klein model wearing a similar one when he came into the office. “And you showed up in my Facebook feed today—on the Us Weekly page! They were asking everyone what they thought of Nikki’s new ‘man candy’! How can you say this relationship, as you call it, isn’t changing you?” I think about the women in my office who had swooned over the picture of Liam online, me shaking my head as I pored over the comments on that post instead of the mound of paperwork that had piled up in Courtney’s absence, each sexual remark about his good looks making me more uncomfortable than the last. When I had made this wish for Liam, I hadn’t considered the impact it might have on him or our friendship. If I had, I might not have gone through with it.
Liam puts the car into gear and takes a sharp right at the corner toward my house. “Listen, I get how all this looks, but I’m not the one who’s doing the changing.” He gives me a pointed look.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“You know exactly what it means.”
“I’m not making that many changes,” I argue.
“Oh, really? Then please tell me how that hideous ensemble I’m supposed to wear to the wedding arrived at my house yesterday? The Kate I know wouldn’t make her worst male enemy wear linen!”
It was true—I had shipped Liam’s new best man outfit to his house because I couldn’t face him. I had written Wearing this without question will be considered payment for “setting you up” with Nikki on a yellow Post-it, but knew I was going to catch shit for it anyway. “It’s just a pair of pants and a shirt. I’m just trying to show Max I’m trying. That I care.”
Liam parks the car in front of my condo and turns to me, his eyes suddenly softer. “I know how much you want this, so I’m going to cut you some slack. But please, remember something.”
“What?” I say, surprised to see two silhouettes through the sheer drapes hanging from my front window.
“If he doesn’t want you exactly the way you are, is he really worth having?”
“Spoken by the man in the two-thousand-dollar Chanel shirt.” I laugh quietly, but Liam doesn’t join me.
“I’m serious, Kate. This isn’t a game. This is the rest of your life we’re talking about.”
“Point taken,” I say as I lean over and kiss his cheek. “Thank you. For the advice and the ride.”
“You’re welcome. And just so you know, Jules and I are not changing a damn thing about your bachelorette party next weekend, and won’t be making you sport some ugly-ass Hawaiian getup—even though it is very, very tempting!” He laughs before adding, “Unless it involves a short straw skirt. Hmm . . . maybe that’s exactly what we should do.” He winks.
“Not likely.” I smile. I had been so consumed with all the changes for the wedding I had totally forgotten that my bachelorette party was only a week away. My last one had been such a blast. I had felt so happy as Jules, Courtney, Liam, and I danced the night away, the cheesy veil they snapped into my hair swinging around me like a gymnast’s ribbon. I try not to think about what it will feel like this time as we celebrate something that might not happen alongside the person who wants to take it all away from me.