Page 18 of Not That Into You

“It’s fine.”

“You can barely walk.”

“I’m fine, Nica.”

“It sounds like you need the surgery, Ma.”

“I don’t need the surgery.”

“But the pain.”

“I can handle the pain.”

“How are you going to do your job if the pain doesn’t go away? Won’t it just get worse?”

“Nica, baby. I’m not getting the surgery. Now is not a good time.”

“What do you mean?”

Another long sigh. “It’s too expensive. We can’t afford it right now.”

Chapter 7

Cameron

The doorbell rings just as I finish my workout; a workout made necessary by my mother’s phone call earlier this morning. Less than forty-eight hours have passed since the Stanhope Foundation Gala—since I claimed I was in a relationship with Monica—and my mother has already started planning Monica’s introduction into Hamptons society.

Which means she first wants to know where Monica fits in New York’s social strata.

While I let her call go to voicemail, her message, full of questions about Monica’s lineage, was enough to send me straight to my home gym to work off my frustration.

I grab a towel, wipe my face, and then head downstairs to the front door as the bell rings again. I open the door to find Hayley on my doorstep, bag in hand.

“Little impatient, are we?”

“I went to Orwashers and picked up some almond croissants.” She holds up the bag. “So, yes.” She walks past me and heads into the kitchen. “I’ve been smelling these for over four blocks.”

She puts the bag on the kitchen counter, grabs a plate and a glass, and opens the fridge. After pulling out a carton of orange juice, she pours herself a glass.

I lean against the counter and fold my arms.

“Did you want one?” she offers with exaggerated sweetness.

I snort before shaking my head. “No. I’m going to make a smoothie.”

She grimaces. “Of course you are.”

Pulling out a croissant, she puts it on her plate. “You know, this croissant covers all four of the major food groups—protein, grains, butter, and sugar.”

“I thought there were five food groups.” Pulling out ingredients for my smoothie, I place a banana, bag of spinach, container of yogurt, and tub of protein powder on the counter to make my point. “I’m just missing grains.”

“Amateur.” Hayley takes a big bite of her croissant and closes her eyes. “Ohmygod. So good.”

I smile and shake my head before putting all my smoothie ingredients in a blender and pressing blend. Her eyes narrow as the noise drowns out any further croissant comments. I don’t doubt the pastry is delicious, but my body needs fruits and vegetables more than it needs a stomach full of butter.

After I’ve poured the smoothie into a tall glass, I take a seat at the counter next to her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this fine Saturday morning?”

She shrugs around a mouthful of pastry. Not that it’s uncommon for her to drop by. She’s my best friend, and growing up, we practically lived in each other’s houses. She even stayed here for a few weeks before moving in with Monica.

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