Page 26 of A Novel Love Story

“Maybe I just want to see it.”

He scoffed. “I doubt it. Besides, what good would the magic do you?” he asked. “Even if it is real, it won’t work outside of Eloraton.It’d be wasted on you. Besides, and you’ve got no one to stand under it with, anyway.”

Suddenly, the taffy didn’t taste all that sweet anymore. “You don’t know that.”

He looked me over, his minty eyes bright in the sunlight. They looked like drops of melted Mentos, and there was a guardedness behind them, and—pity? “It’s not going to give you what you want, Elsy.”

I felt my entire body stiffen, like a cat spooked. “I don’twantanything—”

“You’re obsessed with a fictional book series. You’re alone and you don’t want to leave,” he said, bending close to me. “You’re desperate, sweetheart.”

An ember of anger lit in my stomach. “I’m not desperate,” I snapped. “And you’re mean.”

“I’m sure someone broke your heart, left your texts on read, whatever, and trust me when I say a waterfall won’t make them come back—”

I’d never slapped anyone in my life, and my hand stung by the time I realized what I’d done. A red mark bloomed on his cheek. I was mortified that I’d slapped him—and mortified that I’d let him get to me. I quickly reeled away, blinking back the tears that came to my eyes.

“Sorry.” My voice trembled. I wasn’t sure if it was in rage or apology. “I’m sorry.”

Then I spun on my heel and fled toward my useless car, pushing back tears, but they just kept coming, and I couldn’t stop them. Because, even though he was awful to me, Anders was right. I was alone, and nothing—nothing at all—could make Liam come back to me.

9

Good Enough

IWAS TWENTY-SIX WHEN Ifell in love—really fell in love—for the first time.

When the night started, I didn’t think I would end up kissing a stranger at midnight. I’d spent the last two New Year’s Eves with boyfriends who ended up finding the loves of their lives while dating me, so spending another one with a man who’d fall for the person behind him in line for coffee was something I didn’t want to go through again.

I’d read enough stories where a heroine gets dragged to a New Year’s Eve party, only to fall for the most unattainable man of the evening, but I always figured those kinds of moments were saved for Prudence.

After all, she bumped into Jasper—our neighbor—at the grocery store three weeks after we readUnrequited Love Song. In the soup aisle. Both reaching for the last can of chicken noodle.

What’s a better meet-cute?

So when Prudence begged me to come to Jasper’s law firm’s New Year’s party,because she was nervous to go alone, I couldn’t say no, even though I had plans to sit at home and watchWhen Harry Met Sallyand drown myself in chocolates. So I put on a sparkly silver dress that still fit from undergrad and that made me look like a walking disco ball, and followed Prudence into battle.

To the surprise of no one, I ended up in the corner of the room for most of the night, while she and Jasper danced under the twinkle lights and kissed in vacant hallways. It turned out I wasn’t needed at all, forgotten in a large wingback chair beside the open bar, and I was perfectly content with just people watching. Making up stories of all the meet-cutes, the soft hand touches, the way people bent together, whispering and giggling. I wondered if there was a series of romances set at a law firm, two competing lawyers vying for the same partnership. I made a note in my phone to look that up when I finally got home.IfI got home. By the looks of it, I might have to call an Uber.

By eleven thirty, I decided that maybe Uber was my best bet, and if I left then I could make it home before the rush after midnight. I found Pru in the entryway to the historical house the law firm had rented for the evening, and told her my plan. She was aghast.

“Oh, come on,” she said, her cheeks rosy from the champagne, “at least stay for the ball drop!”

“I’m tired,” I replied, and besides, I didn’t have anyone to kiss, and the closer it crept to midnight, the more apparent that felt.

“You got up at noon! Youcan’tbe tired. Is it the hors—horse—whores …” She frowned, her eyebrows furrowing, and said instead, “The finger foods? Are your shoes too tight? Is it the music? Did they play—” And she looked around conspiratorially before whispering,“The bad song?”

Oh, my sweet, lovely Prudence. I hugged her. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely, now go have fun with Jasper,” I said, because he was being a gentleman and hanging out a few feet away, trying not to eavesdrop. “Speaking of music, I think your favorite song is playing.”

Prudence perked at the music. “Oh, I’m named after this song! Jasper, Jasper, this is the song!” she cried, spinning around and taking him by the arm. “Dance with me?”

He glanced back at me, to make sure I was okay. I mouthed, “Happy New Year,” to him, and waited until they’d gone back into the party before I left out the front door and sat down on the steps to wait for my Uber. The night was chilly, and I hadn’t thought to bring a coat, so I shivered in my disco ball dress—until someone dropped their jacket onto my shoulders.

“Not enjoying the party?” asked a soft voice.

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