Page 37 of The Girlfriend Zone

“Of course, doll. I’ll have it ready in a jiffy. What’s your name?”

“Leighton. Thanks,” I say as she enters my name into a tablet.

Turning to my phone, I adjust my hearing aids to restaurant mode, which is supposed to amplify speech and filter out background noise. Sometimes, though, the setting just amplifies everything—like, well, the music. Ugh. The song’s even louder in my ears now, so I tweak the settings again, trying to enhance soft sounds. I save the adjusted program, hoping this time it’ll work.

When I look up, the hostess is standing a couple of feet away from me, head tilted my way and eyebrows raised expectantly. I recognize her expression. She’s waiting for me to say something because she just said something—something I missed. A kernel of embarrassment twists through me, but I do my best to ignore it. Besides, it’s not hard to figure out what she said, so I ask to confirm, “The table’s ready now?”

“Yes, it is! Right this way,” she says with a smile, leading me over and asking a question without looking over her shoulder. I catch most of her, “How’s your day going so far, hon?”

Even though I’m a bit frustrated I can’t make out every word, it’s not her fault. “Great, thanks,” I say, but my mind is still whirring as I slide into the mint-green booth while she heads back to the front.

I’m tempted to ask someone to turn down the music. But that wouldn’t be fair to the fifty or so other people here enjoying it. Besides, my friends are easy to talk to; I’ll manage. And really, this is a reminder that I always have to be vigilant when I’m out and about. I don’t have the luxury of fiddling with my phone if it means I might miss something I need to hear.

I’m adaptable and I’ve had to be since I was diagnosed at sixteen with mild to moderate sensorineural hearing loss. I didn’t go to many concerts as a kid (none, actually). Ididn’t blast my eardrums out. I didn’t have ear infections when I was younger. It was simply random.

That means I’ll deal with the acoustics and the volume since I’ve had to for years, and I’ve learned where to sit or stand at restaurants and movies, in living rooms and at parties. I’ve figured out how to focus on different people who speak at different levels, and, most of all, I’ve learned how to pay attention. That’s my best asset—my own internal focus. With it, I’ve figured out how to handle all sorts of situations.

How I’ll handle seeing Miles later? That remains to be seen. Just being near him, even at the rink, still sends a spark down my spine. A spark I hope will burn out.

It would just be easier if it did.

Before long, my friends filter in, and I pop up to say hi to Everly, Josie, Fable, and Maeve. I met them all through Everly after we reconnected last fall. After I took photos at the community garden, she introduced me to her girl squad, and we clicked. I even did boudoir shoots for each of them. Hard to believe that just ten months later, they’re my ride-or-dies. Maeve even sub-leased her apartment to me for a while, though the lease recently ran out, so I’ll be moving in a few weeks, but back into the same apartment with my old roomies again. It’s like a merry-go-round with my old roomies—one I’d rather not get back on. That’ll be a pain. But some things are easy—like the fast friendship I’ve formed with these women.

Josie, who’s a librarian, is always full of quick wit, and clever solutions. She recently got engaged to Wesley on the team. Everly’s a warm and supportive badass babe. She’s engaged to Max, the team’s goalie. Fable’s delightfully sarcastic and direct, and is dating her boss, the owner of the Renegades. And Maeve’s our artistfriend, full of beautiful chaos and love. She just had her second wedding with her best friend, Asher, who’s also a hockey player. Yes, theirsecondwedding. They got accidentally—well, maybe not so accidentally—married in Vegas and then decided to stay married for appearances. Last week, they renewed their vows, and that’s why we’re here today. Tonight’s the wedding party. But we also need to review the party favors—definitely a priority alongside lunch.

“So, are you ready for the mostyouwedding party ever tonight?” I ask Maeve as the music shifts to something catchy from another era. I concentrate hard on hearing over the music, especially with the clatter of dishes. But it helps, too, that my friends know I prefer eye contact when we’re all talking.

Her grin spreads wider than a city block. “I can’t wait,” she says.

“The venue couldn’t be more Maeve unless it were a funhouse,” Josie adds, setting her library book down, her huge diamond engagement ring glinting in the light.

Maeve’s hazel eyes widen. “Why didn’t I think of a funhouse?”

“Maybe save that for wedding number three,” Fable says to her, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear.

“Hey, don’t tempt me,” Maeve says, smoothing a hand over her T-shirt that readsI Speak Dog. “I just might renew my vows every year.”

“Well, I agree,” Everly chimes in. “A coffee shop with room to dance is very you. And now that they carry your art? Iconic.”

Maeve gives a playful shrug. “That’s me.” She’s lighthearted about it, but the shop carrying her paintings is a big deal. Maeve’s made serious inroads as an artist in thelast several months, and that includes landing placement on coffee shop walls. They’re thenewart galleries.

“And the party favors?” I ask, turning to Fable, focusing fully despite the loud music. I’m in vigilant mode. “Are they as amazing as we hoped?”

Fable and I planned the favors, but she picked them up.

“Even better,” she says, pausing as the server arrives. We order quickly, knowing our go-to dishes. Then Fable returns to the topic of the favors, meeting Maeve’s gaze. “You wanted classy chocolates, and we delivered.” She dips a hand into her bag, fishing around before pulling out a robin’s egg blue box and setting it on the table. She slides it to Maeve with a perfectly straight face. I keep my expression even too. “Here’s a sampler. Open it.”

“We wanted you to try them out before tonight. Just in case,” I add, since that’s what Fable and I planned when we plotted out these favors.

Maeve laughs. “I never say no to opening a present before Christmas—or dessert before a meal.” She opens the box, her expression blank for a beat. Then her eyes pop, and a wicked smile forms on her lips. She raises her head. “You didn’t?”

“Oh, we did.” I smile too. We planned the favor together at the shop the other day, and seeing her reaction makes it worth it. “Do you like it?”

“I’m sure I’ll love it.” Maeve opens the box to reveal a set of chocolates from Elodie’s Chocolates, each one cheekily phallic. “Aww. You know me so well.”

“We do,” I say, and oddly, I feel that way despite only having met her a relatively short time ago. It’s a good feeling. The best feeling. I feel like they’ll be around for a long time, and I like that reassurance.

Maeve pops a little chocolate dick into her mouth, chews, and sighs like a food show host.

---