Page 3 of The Kiss Countdown

Heaven help me.

I look at the ground, where two drops of coffee lie on the light wooden floor. “Watch your step. Don’t want to have you fall and break a hip.”

Walking away, I shake my head. My mom would tear me a new one for not respecting my elders, even if he did deserve it.

Back at the table, I set our cups down and regard Gina sternly. “Do. Not. Even.”

“What?” Her eyes are all rounded innocence. She takes a small sip of her latte, but I can see she’s ready to burst.

I may as well have her get it out of her system now instead of badgering me later. With a sigh, I fold my arms across my chest and wait for her to crack.

It doesn’t take long. She leans forward on the table andcovers one side of her mouth like she’s telling me a big secret. “Okay, but did you see how fine he was?”

“He’s still here if you want me to get his number for you.”

“What?” Her eyebrows knit before she scowls. “Don’t play. You know I’m not talking about Grandpa. I’m referring to Hottie with the Body.”

“Oh, you mean the aggravating man with the...” Damn, I can’t think of anything catchy like Gina.

She shakes her head. “Tell me you gave him your number, or at least got his?”

I grab my drink but set it down again, leaning back in my chair and shaking my head at Gina’s ridiculous question. “Of course I didn’t get his number.”

“I don’t see why not. You could do with a little love in your life now that you’re done wasting time with Derrick.”

“Now that Derrick and I have broken up, my focus is on me, myself, and my business. No distractions, especially from men.”

“But—”

“Especially fromthatman.”

Him and hisYou can make up for the coffee another time.That is not how this works.

Gina pouts and I sigh. I know she wants me to find the happiness she has with her boyfriend, Mack. It’s the same kind of happiness my parents have. I used to want that too. Derrick hadn’t been the love of my life. I knew it even when we were together, making plans to someday move in with each other and get married. But what if hehadmeant more? What if, when everything had ended, I’d spiraled even further and lost all of myself? For one, I wouldn’t be here drinking coffee with Gina.

Which is exactly why I won’t pursue any relationships. I can’t afford to fall apart ever again.

“I’m just not in the market to get involved with anyone,” I say.

“Fine. Get your business up and flourishing.Thenwe’ll find the love of your life. You won’t be able to run from the man you’re destined to be with forever.”

I shake my head at her and take a sip of my coffee. It’s only then that I realize: After my run-in with the stranger—Vincent—I still forgot to get my cinnamon.

After coffee, Gina and I bid farewell as she sets off to meet her client, and I head to my apartment, leaving behind thoughts of men and untimely collisions. I live in a nice little fusion of residential and commercial real estate. For a stretch of three blocks, the street is lined with boutiques, restaurants, and essential businesses. Gina and I live in the same apartment complex, but she lives with Mack and Mack Jr. (aka Human Mack and Dog Mack), while I live in a one-bedroom by myself.

On my way to my apartment, I pass through the courtyard. It’s a large rectangle of Astroturf framed by metal tables and chairs, with a black marble fountain stretching across the front. The farmers market and other small vendors attract shoppers twice a week, on Sunday and Wednesday. I’ve set up a booth for the past two weeks. It’s how my potential client found me.

My stomach tightens at the thought of what awaits me. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply. I’ve got this. Planning quinceañeras is my jam. Planning anything is my jam. It’s what made me such a valuable asset at Jacob and Johnson for eight years. My vision and legendary parties helped launch them into being one of Houston’s top eventplanning firms. Just because I no longer work there doesn’t mean I’ve lost my touch.

So today I will charm this client with my great personality. Wow her with my ideas. And dazzle her with my follow-through. Then, once I’ve made her daughter’s big moment the event of a lifetime, she will recommend me to her friends, and everyone will know Amerie Price is back. And everything will make sense again.

When I climb the stairs and land on the second floor, I see bright pink papers attached to all the doors. Someone’s been busy this morning. It’s probably a notice about upcoming maintenance visits or reminders to the pet owners to clean up around the building.

God, I hope they’re not reassigning the parking spaces again.

I unlock my door and step into my one-bedroom apartment. Once I place my keys down and turn on the lights, I read the paper, and the words threaten to derail me from the measured footing I just gained. It’s a notice for the structure of new rent prices. Starting in the new year, my unit is going up by 30 percent.

I resist balling up the paper and throwing it in the trash.

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