Page 41 of (Not So) Famous in Paradise

Britta chooses that moment to set Georgia’s ebelskiver between us. “Dude,” she says in a long, exasperated breath. “If Carly was secure about who she is, she wouldn’t be so insecure about you and Georgia.” She hands us each a fork, because, of course, Georgia is going to share. That’s how it works between us. We always share.

“She’s not insecure.” I sink the side of my fork into one of the round pancakes and slice off a piece without looking at Britta. My eyes might give away my worry she might be right.

“Jealous girls are always insecure,” she retorts.

“Nobody asked you, Britta.” I shove the bite into my mouth. The lemon curd snaps with tartness.

“That doesn’t make me wrong.” She walks away, hip-checking me on the way.

Georgia’s lip twitches as I rub the arm Britta bumped. Then her eyes drop, and she uses the back of her fork to push an ebelskiver across the plate. “I’ve only met Carly one time, but I think Britta may be right.”

I don’t have a rebuttal. I hadn’t really thought about it before, but Carly’s jealousy isn’t a good look. On her or me. I mean, the first few times she got upset when other women noticed me, I was flattered that she liked me enough to be protective. But being jealous about Georgia isn’t cool.

“Do you think if I propose it will make her feel more secure?” I blurt. Because the ring in my pocket isn’t increasing my confidence the way I thought it would.

Georgia’s brow creases, and she leans into her seat, drawing her arms across her chest. “You have a ring already?”

I reach inside my jacket and pull out the ring to show her. Georgia gasps.

“It was my granny’s. She gave it to me before she died.”

“I know. I remember it.” She takes it from me and holds it close to the window, examining it in the light. “I always loved this ring,” she whispers more to the ring than to me.

“Do you think she’ll be okay with the stone not being a diamond?”

Georgia shrugs and hands it back to me. “If she’s smart, she will be. The aquamarine is beautiful, especially in that setting. White and yellow gold together is really unique, and the filigree on the band adds even more dimension.”

“You know a lot more about it than I do. I just like the rectangle shape of the stone.” I turn the ring in different angles, trying to see it through Carly’s eyes. She likes big, solitaire diamonds, but I think she’ll like this too. It’s a family heirloom, after all, and I can get her a solitaire later.

“It’s called an emerald cut. Very art deco. Your granny let me try it on once, before I left for college. Said she’d seen me admire it over the years…” Georgia’s voice trails off in a sad sigh, and I wonder if there’s something more to that sigh than thinking about Granny.

For a second I wonder if it has to do with me. The thought that she might be sad at the idea of me proposing to Carly makes me nervous in a different way. A less shaky, more goosebump way.

But then Georgia reaches for her phone, and I’m reminded that she’s made it clear so many times that we’re just friends. She knows a thousand successful guys in LA and New York. Why would she ever settle for a guy like me, someone who’s never going anywhere?

I tuck the ring back in my pocket and put away silly thoughts about Georgia and me. Carly is the one for me.

“If it feels like the right time when I get there, I’m going to propose today,” I say, and Georgia looks up. “I’ll take her to that little park up the canyon from Florence and pop the question.” It’s not what I’d originally wanted, but the fact new ideas are coming to me so quickly has to be a good sign that the time is right. “It won’t be the big production you and I planned, but I think proposing will finally make Carly feel secure in how much I love her.”

Georgia uses both hands to pull her hair back, then rubs her neck. “I don’t know, Zach. I think confidence in yourself—or in a relationship—has to come from the inside. If she doesn’t have that, I’m not the only woman she’s going to be jealous of.”

I wince.

“Carly has confidence,” I bite back. “I don’t know why you and Britta think she doesn’t.”

Georgia puts up her hands. “Okay. I believe you.” Her voice is flat, emotionless, and unconvincing. “What do you want me to do?”

Her eyes are as empty as her words. I came to her for help, and all she can do is criticize and judge my girlfriend.

“Nothing.” I push away from the table. “I wanted your advice, but I don’t need it anymore. I’m in love with Carly, and she’s in love with me. We’ll be happy together, no matter what you and Britta think.”

“I never said you wouldn’t, I just think you’re rushing things for the wrong reasons.” Georgia glares at me from across the table.

From the counter area, Britta yells, “She’s not the one, bro!”

I shake my head and turn toward the door. “I’ve got to go.”

I’m being too sensitive, but my flight-or-fight instinct is on auto-pilot, and there’s no turning it off. That force drives me out the door, straight to my Bronco.

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