Page 69 of The Seemingly Impossible Love Life of Amanda Dean

The place that was alwaysbusy any night of the week was especially packed for a Friday. It was a small, order-at-the-counter type of restaurant with an outside patio but no tables inside, so it was wall-to-wall people. And if you didn’t know how the system worked—because yes, there was a system—you were shit out of luck.

You approached the counter only when you were ready to order, and they only took cash. As quirky as it was, they had the best tacos, especially late-night tacos—although for LA it wasn’t that late yet. The real rush happened when the bars closed at two in the morning, and they were still a little while off from that.

Mandy took the lead on ordering since she had been there amillion times before, and soon she was sitting at a stone table with a mosaic-tiled top waiting for number seventy-three to be called and begging the universe to give her a break. Or at least help her out a little.

Isa licked her lips. “Smells amazing.”

“You already said that.” Mandy wanted to hide under the table. Why was this so hard? But she knew the answer. She had a habit of fucking things up and saying or doing the wrong thing, especially when it came to Isa. “I’m sorry.”

“You’vealready said that.”

And Mandy had. A lot. Over and over in fact. “Well. I am. The last time I saw you—”

“We don’t have to do this,” Isa said. “It’s in the past. And now…” She glanced at Mandy’s hand. “Now you’re engaged. That’s so exciting.”

“Yeah.” Mandy looked down at her hand too. The emerald-cut diamond wasn’t something she would’ve picked out for herself, but it was pretty even if she did need to get it resized. Maybe she should take it off and put it in her bag, so she didn’t lose it. “I was a little surprised by the whole thing, if I’m being honest.”

“I could tell.” Because of course she could. Would anyone ever know Mandy the way Isa did?

“But it was sweet, right? And it’s not like it’s a night I’ll ever forget,” Mandy said as the stone bench bit into the back of her thighs. “And I guess I sold all of my paintings.” Was it obvious she was trying to change the subject?

“That’s true.” Isa’s brows pulled together. Yes, it was obvious.

“You didn’t have to buy one, you know.” Once it came out of her mouth, Mandy flinched. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant—”

“I hadn’t planned on it when I came. I debated showing up at all, if we’re being honest. But then I got there, and I saw it, and, well. I knew I couldn’t leave without it. I couldn’t think of that painting hanging in anyone else’s house. It just spoke to me.” Isa smiled, but she didn’t meet Mandy’s eyes. Mandy had been the one who painted it—knew exactly all the emotions and thoughts she had been feeling when she had done so—so it was no surprise to her that Isa felt something in it too. Isa was just as much a part of that painting as Mandy was. A chill raced through her, sending gooseflesh rippling over her arms.

Mandy wanted to tell her all of these things, but instead she looked at her ring again. It was just like Edmund to have picked something like this out—something that made a statement. He was predictable like that, which Mandy supposed was a good thing. Not the same kind of solace as a pair of broken-in shoes, or her favorite slippers, but the predictability of being offered champagne while she waited for Edmund to get fitted for a new suit—it wasn’t comfortable sitting there while the tailor measured and pinned, but she knew what to expect.

“Are you happy?” Isa asked.

The question caught Mandy off guard, although it shouldn’t have. This was Isa, after all, and she knew Mandy better than Mandy knew herself. She lifted her chin and met Isa’s eyes. A gust of wind blew Isa’s hair over her shoulders. God, she was so beautiful. Maybe if Edmund hadn’t gotten on one knee just a few hours ago, she could’ve reached across the table and held Isa’s hand. Or maybe sat next to her, thighs touching, instead of being across from her with a million pieces of shattered tiles artfully plastered between them. Right now, as the wind blew and all theother patrons chatted around them, it felt more like a million miles.

Was she happy?

“Seventy-three,” came booming over the intercom.

And instead of trying to answer Isa’s question, Mandy said, “I’ll get it,” stood up, and pushed her way through the crowd.

Chapter Thirty-Three

April 2019

Time seemed to crawlslower than the traffic outside the limo as raindrops streaked down the glass. It wasn’t anything like a downpour, more of a light sprinkling, but it was enough to throw the entire pre-wedding plan into chaos.

Mandy didn’t respond to the group messages flying back and forth among her family. Just thinking about it made her want to scream, or cry, maybe both.

Roger had taken a call, likely getting new instructions on where they were supposed to be headed, but Mandy ignored all that too. Now that she had time with nothing else to do and no one else to talk to—with the limo’s AC pumping to help control her stress sweats—she reflected on the previous night’s festivities. It all should’ve been a warning of how today was going to go. Because the rehearsal went off without a hitch.

Rehearsals were the time things were meant to go wrong, problems were supposed to reveal themselves so they could beworked out, but none of that happened. Dinner especially had seemingly been error free.

And all of that should’ve been a red flag to Mandy. Now that she thought about it, it seemed that Sophie had been trying to warn her.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Sophie had asked as Mandy stood outside the restaurant, needing some air between dinner and dessert. She had attempted to go to the car to get some last-minute gifts to distribute, but the valet seemed to be off somewhere, so she took the time to enjoy the night air. “Just say the word and I can get you out of here.”

Mandy laughed. If she had chosen to have bridesmaids, Sophie would’ve been one of them for this very reason. She always seemed to know what Mandy needed to hear. Not that she was planning to run away, but because that was something she expected her girls to do for her—have her back and ask. “I’m good.”

“Yeah. I know you are.” Sophie leaned next to Mandy, shoulders touching. “It’s nice to see you so happy.”

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