Page 5 of Never Let You Go

I glance at her phone. “Is he hot?”

She laughs and sets her phone down. “Nope. Sorry to disappoint. He is so fugly, you are forbidden—”

“Shut up. You don’t even know his name. You’re full of it.”

“True. Just kidding. So—what’s his name?’

“I don’t remember, and you’re not googling him.”

She picks her phone back up. “Why not?”

“It’s weird.”

“It’s research,” she says, her thumbs active on her phone.

The wine is beginning to mellow me, and the stress of the day, the questions I’ve asked myself, are wearing me down now that the tension is easing away. “Do you think she was trying to fix something? Rita.”

“Maybe? But who cares? This could be a great new start for you, Alex. This is so exciting! The beginning of a new life!” Sarah is always excited about new adventures, big decisions, major projects.

Me, I’d rather keep my life low-key. The truth is, my big-picture items always end up broken. So I focus my happiness on the little things. A cup of coffee with my favorite colleague in the morning, a glass of wine with my roommate in the evening. New boots to hop in the snow, a favorite perfume to wear on performance report day. Every time I’ve been excited about a big thing, disaster has struck. So I stopped making these things count, and since then my life has been going okay.

“Maybe this will spruce up your dating life!” Sarah continues. “How long since you went on a decent date?”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Seriously, Lexie, you should give it a try when you’re up there. Maybe you’ll meet Mister Right.”

“There is no Mister Right, at least not for me. You know that.”

“Ohmygod. Not The Curse again.”

“You’re the one calling it The Curse. I’m just saying, it’s not in my DNA. My mother was a single mom, my grandmother was a single mom, and I’ve grown up—”

“I know, I know,” Sarah interrupts. “Men only bring misery. Blah blah blah.”

“But it’s true! For my family it’s true. No men for me.”

“You’re discarding the power of the orgasm.”

“And you’re confusing relationships and sex.”

“Ha! Now we’re talking. You need to get laid. It’s decided. Speaking of which, who’s the baker you’re going to be working for?” She waves her phone at me. “What’s his name again? Did you look him up?”

I spit my wine back in my glass. “Speaking of which? I am not sleeping with my boss! Are you out of your mind?”

She growls. “Yeah, yeah. Right.” She takes a deep breath. “Emerald Creek bakery. There’s like… nothing online. There does seem to be a bakery on the map. Nothing on social. Found a couple of middle-aged men in wife beaters.” She giggles and shows me her screen.

I don’t even look her way. “You did not. Anyway, my boss is probably twice that age. He’s some star baker.” In the packet of instructions Barbara handed me after the meeting, there was a short bio of the guy.

“What’s his name again?”

“Christopher Wright.”

“Ha! Got you. You do know his name.” She types and her eyes twinkle. “Huh,” she smirks.

Tonight I couldn’t care less about my future boss, but I should show some interest in my best friend’s efforts. “D’you find him?”

“Uh—no, it’s not him.” She puts her phone down. “Wanna watch something trashy?”