It was a half-baked concept to start with, but Dakota抯 feedback attached to the image catches my attention.
Yeah, we might want to leave this one somewhere in 1999. Nothing attracts a modern girl to a wedding line like chasing down some loser who doesn抰 really want to marry her. What if we sell a runaway bride instead? Turn the tables. That抯 a little more interesting.
Her interview pops into my head. When Anna mentioned she抎 be working on the wedding line, she went stiff as a board.
Call me a sucker for punishment.
I pick up my phone and fire off a text. Not a fan of men who skip out on their own weddings, huh?
I go back to reading and my phone dings sooner than expected.
We抮e not friends. It抯 after work hours. Why are you texting me?
My pulse slows. Another pang of that damnable guilt.
Answer the question, I demand, punching Send. I add, Please. I抦 simply pinpointing where the original concept went wrong.
It抯 insane what she does to me, even when she抯 not in the same room.
I don抰 think I抳e ever glared at those three swirling dots on the screen as she types. Her message arrives a few seconds later.
I mean, who *would* be thrilled to have a man leaving the altar? Why even propose to a woman if you抮e not going to see it through? Better yet, with the time and expense that goes into getting married, how do you make it to the wedding day without knowing you don抰 want this? Isn抰 it kinda obvious?
There.
I抳e pissed her off again.
Texting probably won抰 solve anything, so I call her instead.
I抦 half expecting her to ignore me and let it go to voicemail, but she answers on the first ring.
揅an I help you??
揟ell me one thing. Am I saying stupid shit again??
I hear a muffled gasp.
揟he only stupid shit is my boss calling me at eleven o抍lock on a Friday night. Kind of ridiculous if you ask me, but hey, no one did.?
揗y bad. I didn抰 realize it was so late or that you had plans, Miss Poe. I抳e been going over drafts and lost track of time. Listen, if there抯 something I need to know about your work on the wedding campaign棓
揑s there a problem with my work??she asks, venom in her voice.
揘ot at all. Your writing is fresh and the concepts are the sort of ass-kicking we抳e needed for a while. Still, I抦 confused by the way you stormed out of the meeting today. I know I was harsh and I apologized for that. It occurred to me the wedding line might be too much if there抯 some personal reason behind your aversion. Listen, if there抯 another line you抎 rather work on, I can make that happen. I can棓
揑抦 sorry,?she interjects, soft but firm.
I wasn抰 expecting that.
揑桰 was supposed to be married about a year ago. It didn抰 end well. End of story. Life goes on. I抣l get over it.?She pauses, drawing in a long breath before adding, 揑抦 already over it. Seriously. If the ring was worth anything, I would抳e sold it and taken a writing class.?
You抮e not over a damn thing, I think to myself. The way you fled earlier today and reacted to my dumb ass tells the truth.
Even worse, I know that reaction.
It抯 been years and it still doesn抰 take much to bring back Regina, and finding her in bed with that pathetic, underhanded little fuck?揗r. Burns??she asks softly.
揑抦 still here.?
At least now I understand why she was so upset when I pointed out her missing ring like the goddamned lumbering bear I am.
揑 appreciate your honesty and the additional context. Again, I regret saying what I did today. Love may be the trickiest business of all,?I tell her.
There抯 a long pause before she says, 揙h, really? Is that why your mom was asking all the old ladies in the office if they had a daughter or niece they could set her son up with? She made it loud and clear she wants grandkids and her boy can抰 seem to get the job done.?
I rock back in my chair, gritting my teeth.
What I wouldn抰 give if I could get Ma to jet off to Maui, the Turks, or the Maldives like an ordinary retired woman in her sixties with all the money in the world to burn.
Anything to keep her and her big matchmaking mouth the fuck out of my office. You抎 think that after the hell I went through, she might just accept my permanent bachelorhood.
揃urns? You still there or did Smithers tuck you in for the night??
I bite back a smile. 揊or such a sharp writer and someone tired of Poe jokes, I expected better. You抮e only the ten thousandth person to make a Simpsons crack with the name. Congratulations, I suppose.?
揑f the glove fits...?she shrugs with her voice. 揧ou have to admit, you kinda fit the bill. You抮e single, loaded, and you like to throw your weight around. You抳e even got one up over the old cartoon gazillionaire in the looks depar棓
She cuts off abruptly, and damn it, now I am smirking so hard it hurts.
揥hat was that, Miss Poe? Something about my looks??I wait. Crickets on the other end of the line. 揑 do put my time in maintaining this body for my health and appearance. It抯 nice knowing you appreciate it.?
揑 shouldn抰 be the one appreciating anything,?she whispers. 揧our mama has a point.?
揝he does not. I manage my own dating life very well,?I growl, drumming my fingers on my knee.
揇o you??she snickers.
Why did I call to apologize again?
揥hat??I snap.
揟hey call you Mr. Undateable in the Seattle press,?she says. 揑抦 sure you抳e seen the Google footprint? Either you don抰 handle your own dating, or you don抰 handle it very well. I抦 not sure I抎 admit the second.?
揝talker,?I grind out. 揂lso, there are things journalists will never know.?
揈xcuse me??
揧ou抮e Google stalking the boss. Barely a week after you called me psychotic,?I remind her. 揇oes hypocrisy run in the family and precede crazy? Should I worry I抣l wake up buried alive next??
She snorts pure derision. 揧ou think you抮e so funny, don抰 you??
揟hat makes one of us.?
揝ee how antsy you get when someone asks personal questions? And there isn抰 even a room full of people here.?She clucks her tongue like the annoying damned bird she is.
揑 apologized and even picked up your coffee duty梱ou抮e welcome.?
揥hich was never in my job description,?she throws back.
I抦 about to rip out my hair.
揥hy did I call you??I growl slowly.
揑f I had to guess, to annoy the hell out of me. Or to soothe your guilty conscience. Guess it isn抰 working, though.?
揧ou抮e ridiculous,?I spit.
揙ff the record, you抮e a jackass. You抮e rude, crass, kind of oblivious, and mean,?she hisses.
揟ell it to the next person whose cinnamon roll you try to snatch.?
揙h my God. Could you drop that already??She sucks in a harsh breath.
揥hy??
揃ecause you抮e just...?She trails off, probably running out of ammo.
揘ot a good reason, Miss Poe, and it sounds like your well has run dry. Tell you what, I won抰 keep you struggling through new ways to insult me. I抣l see you Monday to discuss your latest efforts in person.?
She doesn抰 answer.
揚oe??I move the phone closer so I can check the screen.
She抯 already hung up.
Glowering, I chuck my phone across the room.
I don抰 realize I抦 hard enough to hit a home run until I stand, my face twisting with disgust.
Why the fuck am I hard after that?
Maybe I should see a shrink.
How does this girl get me so worked up like nobody else?
I pace the room like a caged animal, only stopping to stare at the fireplace before I take a few steps the other way.
Enough of this fuckery. Enough of Nevermore, too.
There抯 a calming predictability in weaving a path across my floor, at least until my eyes catch on the photos.
I get a glimpse of my once happy parents perched above my fireplace. My mother has the biggest, most beautiful smile of her life, and Dad has his arm around her.
She hasn抰 smiled like that since the day he died.
She may still smile a lot, but I doubt I抣l ever see that high-on-life look of hers again.
The next picture houses another ghost from the past, a man I haven抰 seen for too long.