Page 43 of If Our Hearts Collide

“Maybe if you ever tie the damn knot around your man”—she animatedly expresses with some waves of her hands—“you can slide into the spot of being a contender.”

“Wow, your spirited language is a bit offensive,” Claire goads, obviously teasing.

“Oh, shut it,” Angie pretend snarls. “You know that man of yours is ready to take that leap. He might as well cuff you to him until you settle on a date.”

“Well, he does like a bit of kinky goodness in the?—”

“He is my brother!” I blurt out, covering my ears in fake dramatics but unable to contain my laughter.

The more I hang around these ladies, the more I yearn for a friend of my own. I just don't know how to even go about meeting people these days—especially those who just want companionship. I lack the commitment to socialize regularly and enjoy doing things on my own terms.

Plus, I’m not even sure what I have to offer. I almost forget what it feels like to try to make an effort and hope to be liked. It feels very middle school vibes, and yet that is what my heart really wants. Fake drama. Normalcy.

I want someone to treat me like I’m not seconds away from breaking.

Over the next thirty minutes, I munch on finger foods, laugh with the girls, and try to picture working here. It isn’t hard to imagine. At least I would know the work environment isn’t toxic. Having Angie and Claire as my bosses would be a bit weird—especially if I fail to produce their visions—but I know that their gentle guidance is what I need right now.

I have a habit of trusting the wrong people, so this would be one stressor in my life that I wouldn’t have to second-guess. I know they will never take advantage of me.

“So, hypothetically,” Angie says with an attempt to be casual, “if you were to come work with us, we would offer you some equity, a comparable and competitive salary, the ability to get promoted, and a full benefits package.”

“Can I just ask one thing?”

Angie shifts on her feet, placing her empty plate onto the table behind her. “Yes, of course.”

“Did my brothers put you two up to this?”

Claire spits her water into her cup, as she laughs. “Ha, even if they did”—she pauses to glance up at me—“which they didn’t—it would just make us do the opposite.”

“She speaks the truth,” Angie chimes in, giggling.

“Have you not realized that while those two bossy brothers of yours like to call the shots, neither Angie nor I give a damn? We basically make it our life’s mission to drive them nuts. They make defying them too easy.”

All of the tension in my shoulders releases as I let out a laugh. “You have a great point.”

“Penny,” Angie says softly. “Yes, you are family, but you need to build up some confidence in yourself. I used to hide in the shadow of my twin brother, James, always thinking he was the outgoing one or the one that everyone loved. Well, it sucks to feel inferior, but those feelings are put onto us by ourselves. So, stop.”

“Okay…” Angie is right. I am hard on myself.

“You are enough, just as you are. We have a certain image we are looking for, and you would be a great asset to our subscription boxes. The way to build a brand is to have that likability factor. And trust me, girl, you have it.”

I try my best not to cry. I want to cry. I want to contradict her kind words and brush them off, but I resist. Sometimes I just need to take that leap of faith. “I’ll do it.”

“What?” Claire and Angie yell in unison, while looking at each other like they won a lottery, and then back at me.

“I’ll accept the job.”

“But you haven’t heard the salary or benefits package yet,” Angie says in shock.

“I trust you,” I state simply, and I do. Plus, I’m not doing this for the money. “Ooff…” I stumble backward as I get clobbered by a surprise group hug. It is unexpected, catching me off-balance. I stay upright, careful not to let Claire fall. “Were you really doubting my decision?”

“Um, yeah,” Claire says with astonishment. “And Nic basically told me that there was no way you would be—” She quickly shuts her mouth, covering her hand over her lips to resist from blurting out her next word.

My eyes narrow. “Sensible?”

Angie bites her bottom lip, confirming that the talk between my brothers has been full of speculation. Ugh, they can be so annoying…

“What apunk,” I mutter, recalling the nickname, Punk, I’d given to my brother growing up.

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