Page 36 of The Road Sometimes Taken

“If people are going to assume we’re a couple, Cara, might as well go with it. A lot easier to pretend than to explain the whole road trip. Also, how fun would that be? We can just make up stories and pretend. You want to be a fashion designer mom of two? Be it. You want to be a popstar? Be it.”

“Who are you and what did you do to Manny?” I ask.

“What? Do you think you’re the only one who can play games? With all your weird animal sign shouts and your truth or dares? I can be fun too,” he boasts. Placing some cash on the bar, Manny stands and offers his hand to help me off the stool.

“You’re fun, as long as you forget about work,” I tease, sticking my tongue out at him and holding on tightly to his arm. I’m 100% buzzed and the quick movement has my head spinning and tongue tingling.

“This is me forgetting about work. Welcome to Mannyland. I have an idea. Do you trust me?” he asks. When I smile and nod, he pulls me until we’re outside and he’s checking for an Uber.

“What if we go to this derby thing and pretend we’re not who we are? I don’t want to be Manuel Zabana today. I want to be Manny, Cara’s carefree husband, and have a blast,” he suggests.

We only wait a few minutes in the busy street before a dark sedan pulls up by us. Manny opens the door for me to step inside and after he slides in next to me, he just looks at me with a devilish grin.

I shake my head. “Manny, people are not going to believe you’re my husband.”

“Oh, but they will. You can’t resist my charm and truthfully, neither can they,” he adds, tucking his phone away after he sent a couple of texts. He’s such a multitasker, I can’t even believe it sometimes, everything he does at once. Make plans about tonight, call an Uber, answer texts or emails while making sure I don’t fall to my ass after drinking my body weight in alcohol—it’s astounding.

“Where are we even going?”

“To buy derby-appropriate clothes and hats,” Manny teases, pulling his phone back out and showing me the stores he has pulled up on his browser. Some off-the-wall boutiques that I’m sure will cost more than my mortgage for one dress.

“Manny, those are going to be so expensive. It makes no sense to spend a lot of money on something we’re going to use once.” I’m a little concerned about this small outburst of spontaneity.

“I’ll pay for it, it’s fine,” he replies.

“No, no, no, no, no! Are you crazy? It’s going to be hundreds of dollars for something we’re going to wear once.”

“Says who? I’ll wear a fancy hat again.” Manny smiles and slides his fingers across his forehead as if he were swiping a hat on his head.

“To go where?” I snap back, lifting my eyebrows at him and crossing my legs.

“Fancy places, Cara.”Oh my god.I roll my eyes at his reply.

“I have a feeling the fancy places you go to are more like black tie and expensive wine than mint juleps and hats. Notthat the derby is only about the hats, but you get what I mean.” My hands rest over my lap, and the chuckle he lets out makes my body come to life. This whole interaction has me annoyed; but more than anything, I’m extremely aware about how freaking attracted to him I am if a simple chuckle has basically altered my brain chemistry.

“I do get what you mean, but really, we can just go and get what we need. Have you ever considered not arguing with people about everything, Cara? Go with it for once,” he drawls, grabbing my hand and smiling at me.Why is he so freaking cute? Like a damn adorable brand-new puppy.

“What is it that you say all the time? Just because you can doesn’t mean you should? Let’s not be wasteful, okay? I have an idea,” I hint, grabbing his phone and changing the address of where we’re going. We have one hour, two max, to make this work and I’m determined we will.

17

RUNWAY STRUT

STYLE (TAYLOR’S VERSION), TAYLOR SWIFT

Manny

“Here, here, here,”Cara shouts, pointing at the big white and blue sign above the old-fashioned entrance door.

“What is this?” I ask, confused as to why we’re pulling over in front of a charming but very vintage thrift store.

We get out of the car and walk toward the timeworn building showcasing slightly faded paint with large windows. Blue shopping carts swarm the entrance, but before I can ask her again what we’re doing here, she gets out cash from her purse and hands it to me.

Raising my eyebrows at her, I try to open my mouth to say something, but she brings her index finger to my lips and says, “Shh! Listen. You have ten minutes and twenty-five dollars to find me an outfit for this party. I will do the same for you. Meet me by the changing rooms in ten. Got it?” She winks at me and runs through the doors and into the store.

I walk around the thrift store, holding a couple of dressesand skirts in my hands, completely annoyed at the fact that I don’t understand this game. And if I’m being honest, I’ve been annoyed all day at the fact that I want to undress her. I want to be exploring every inch of her body and not finding more ways to cover it. In the end it doesn’t matter either way, because she’s off limits and I know that. It doesn’t hurt to dream though.

“Time’s up!” I hear Cara shout from across the store and the clerk by the dark register chuckles at that. I shake my head and walk toward her, clothes in hand and a smile on my face because it is impossible to look at how happy she is right now and not match it.

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