Page 44 of Now That We Don't Talk

“What are you doing Friday?”

“I guess Vivian’s sister and friends want a meet and greet, and I’m always there for my fans.”

“Did Vivian ask you? It’s good you two are finally acting like friends.”

I nod. “Honestly, I don’t even remember why we’re not. I guess I never really talked to her.”

He twists his mouth to the side. “No, you didn’t. And there’s something else, but Katie won’t tell me what it is.”

I make a face. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “All I know is Vivian overheard you talking about her.”

“What? When?”

“You have to ask her,” he says.

My mind spins as I try to remember. It could be anything. It wouldn’t be the first time I said something stupid without giving it any thought.

“Oh, and watch out for her sister,” he says. “She’s a piece of work.”

The last thing I’m worried about is what Vivian’s sister thinks about me. I need to try to fix any damage I might have caused.

Our break is over, and we head back onto the court. Unfortunately Kyle might pull out another win because the last thing on my mind is racquetball.

I haven’t heard from Vivian, so I finally text to confirm we’re still meeting tonight. I’m hoping to have a chance to talk to her. It might finally be time to clear things up. I’m hoping it’s a big misunderstanding that can easily be resolved. There is one thing I’m most certainly guilty of, and that’s never giving her the attention she deserves. Everyone likes to be noticed, I certainly do.

When I arrive at the Velvet Vine, I look around and spot Vivian sitting at a table alone. She’s wearing a blue dress and white sandals. Her long blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She’s scrolling through her phone while sipping a glass of water.

“Hey, hey,” I say as I approach the table.

She looks up from her phone, offering a small nod and a hint of a smile. “Hi.”

She’s effortlessly beautiful—her makeup is minimal, yet her wide, sparkling eyes draw me in.

I’m speechless for a few seconds until I manage to stringsome words together.

“I was expecting a whole table of fans to be waiting for an autograph and a photo op,” I say, trying to make a joke.

She gives an eye roll. “I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think Jaclyn and her minions are hockey fans. They’re fans of famous people—or, in your case, semi-famous.”

“Ouch, Vivi,” I say pretending to be offended. “I thought we were making a fresh start.”

She shrugs. “Just being honest.”

“I get it.” I pause. “Also, what do you mean by minions?”

She smiles. “Ah, that’s just a little nickname Katie and I gave to my sister’s friends. You’ll see what I mean when they arrive.”

A server comes over to our table, and I order a drink.

“Anyway, how are you?”

“I’m good,” she says.

“You look beautiful tonight,” I tell her.

She looks surprised by my compliment. “Thanks.”

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