The Hot One

She stalks me, backs me up to the window, and sets a hand against the display, breathing fire. “You did not sleep with him.”


“There was no . . . penetration involved,” I say, then I clasp my hand over my mouth. “Oops. Wait. There was.” I waggle my fingers.

“You dirty girl,” she says, but her lips twitch, and it’s clear she’s reining in a smile.

I wiggle my eyebrows. “Also, the penetration was even better than before, and that’s saying something.”

She inhales through her nose again and stares through slits of eyes. “Fine, you lucky bitch. Then, how’s this? Number five. The two of you want different things.”

I have no rebuttal. I can’t protest because I don’t know the answer. He might want different things. I might, too. I don’t know yet what he wants, besides me. Tyler has shown he wants me intensely, but what does that mean? Does he want the same type of future we mapped out once upon a time, or just someone to spend the night with now and then? Does he want a girlfriend, a playmate, or a partner? More than that, what do I want from him? Sure, I agreed to go to a party in a week. But what am I opening myself up to by buying wigs and wearing them? What comes after the party, and am I even ready for that?

Bells clink lightly against glass. A pair of thirty-something women stumble out of the store. But it’s the fun kind of stumble, the one girlfriends do as they laugh and wrap arms around each other. One of the women sports a strawberry-blond bob and the other wears a lemon-yellow shoulder-length do. I vaguely wonder why they have wigs. For fun? For necessity? For a party? But the answer’s not apparent as they walk on by.

Just like the answer to Tyler and me.

I turn back to Nicole. “We might want different things, but I don’t know what he wants. And more important, I don’t yet know what I want. That’s actually why I said yes to the party. To try to figure that out,” I say, speaking plainly now. No teasing or hard times, just the truth.

Nicole reaches for my arm and circles a hand softly around it. “It’s hard, to know what you want.” She squeezes. “It’s the hardest thing, isn’t it?”

“And to know if going for it is worth the risk.”

“It’s insanity out there,” she says and sweeps her arm in an arc encompassing everything but us, I suppose. “It’s all a big complicated sea of garbage and madness and magic all at once, and sometimes you can’t separate one from the other.”

“Garbage and madness and magic?” I arch a brow and laugh. “Is that your next column on dating and mating in the online, Snapchat, Plenty of Fish, sexting, dick pic, no-one-knows-what’s-true-anymore world?”

“Maybe it should be. But then, that’s the basic premise of what I do—navigate the sea of shit and dating.” She shades her eyes with her palm like she’s checking out the rolling waves from the deck of her ship.

“Captain Nicole, aye aye.”

Her eyes shift to the end of the block, landing on the couple strolling in our direction. Penny waves. Her beau, Gabriel, is by her side. He’s tall and lean, with longish hair and tattooed arms. The two of them are a perfect pair. He’s crazy for her, and she’s mad about him.

Nicole nudges my shoulder. “But I’m not done. Here’s the final point—people don’t change.”

I gesture to Penny and her man as my evidence. “Penny’s with Gabriel. He’s changed.”

“Their story is different. Fate intervened and prevented them from seeing each other.”

Before I can answer, the pair in question arrives at our side. Ever the sophisticated European, Gabriel drops cheek kisses on Nicole then me.

I can’t deny that I adore his classy side. And him too, because he’s made Penny incandescently happy. Ergo, he gets gold stars from me. “Gabriel, tell me something. Do people change?”

He chuckles, then squares his shoulders. “Of course they do.”

Nicole casts a doubtful look his way, and Gabriel places his hand on his chest as if to say who me? “I’ve changed. I’m not the idiot I was when I was twenty-four.”

Nicole rolls her eyes then waggles her fingers, dismissing him. “You’re disqualified. Be on your way.”

“As a matter of fact, I will. I’m heading to my restaurant. Where I will create a delicious dessert for my lovely fiancée.” He roams his eyes over Penny possessively. “Something I would have done for her years ago, and I do now. Perhaps some things don’t change.” He winks and kisses Penny good-bye.

Penny turns to us. “He wants me to have something when I get home tonight from our night out.”

I sigh happily. “He’s so sweet.”

“And sexy,” she adds, with a naughty glint in her eyes. She gestures to the store. “Are we going in, girls? Or are we going to stare at the leprechaun wig in the window all night? Incidentally, if you can get Tyler to wear that wig I will buy drinks forever and ever and then some.”

I yank open the door. “Don’t leprechauns have red hair, though? Isn’t it more a Jolly Green Giant wig or an Emerald City wig?”

Nicole pipes in. “Or a Wicked Witch wig.” Nicole taps her finger on her chin. “Hmm. Now that I realize we can truly torture your ex by making him wear any wig we choose, I might actually approve of this date with him.” Nicole spins and points to Penny. “I know I’ve already lost your support.”

Penny laughs as she fiddles with a cherry-red hairstyle. “I just don’t happen to agree with your more—how shall we say—strident position?”

Nicole spots a long blond wig. “I’ve always wanted to see if you blondes have more fun,” she says to me, then asks the shopworker if she can try it on. The woman brings us thin nylon caps to cover our hair under the wigs. As Nicole adjusts the blond locks, she says, “Look, I don’t know if people can change. I just worry. I know you all think I’m a hard-ass—”

“Gee,” Penny interjects, placing her index finger on her temple. “Why would anyone think that?”

Nicole sighs. “And I don’t deny being a practitioner of tough love. But the reality is this—I’m a witness to the hazards, pitfalls, and potholes of dating in this decade, and I’ve seen much more of the bad and the ugly than the good. I don’t want to see Delaney get hurt, and I’m not convinced men can change.”

She peers into the mirror, tugs the bangs down lower, and spins around, showing us her new look.

“But hairstyles can definitely change,” I say. “And you look good as a blonde.”

Penny fiddles with her new fire-engine ’do and meets our gazes in the mirror. “But see, I do think people can change. Maybe it’s because I work with animals, but just hear me out. I’ve seen what adopting a pet can do for a person. How it can soften hearts and change priorities and turn you into someone who loves another creature nearly as unconditionally as that creature loves you.”

I wrap an arm around her shoulders and squeeze. I adore the dog-loving heart of my bestie. “You’re right.”