Page 29 of Say Yes to the Hot Mess

“Hi,” I say warily, leaving the table and stepping a few feet away. Geraldine, Agnes, and Clarence all watch as I situate myself beside the bulletin board, leaning against it, but I ignore them. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, Dexter,” she says, and her image stutters a few times before becoming clear again. She smiles at me. “You’ll never believe who I just ran into. It’s fate, sweetie. Look!” And she reaches off to the side and tugs on a pair of shoulders. The camera swings wildly for a second, and then, to my dismay, lands on a very familiar, very unwelcome face. My heart sinks.

“Val,” I say, nodding curtly to her.

“Hi, Dexy,” the tall blonde says, smiling at me.

Valencia Devlin has a lovely smile, when it’s real. Unfortunately, it rarelyisreal. Right now it most certainly isn’t. This is an empty approximation, blindingly white teeth framed by perfectly made-up lips. Val’s eyes are a pale, unsaturated blue, and her nose is just a little too distinguished to be considered conventionally attractive. She’s a severe, austere-looking woman, grown up from a severe, austere-looking child.

We grew up in the same circles, Val and I, and my mother finally succeeded in pushing us together about five years ago. We dated for six long months, during which time it became painfully clear that she was not the kind of woman I wanted to spend my life with. She reminds me too much of my mother; diamond tennis bracelets and country clubs and no time or patience for the things that actually matter.

Don’t get me wrong—I know my mother loves me. And she’s softened over the years. But I was raised largely by a nanny while my mother spent her time organizing women’s dinners and society functions and who knows what else. My brother and I were expected to look the part of a little gentleman at all times. It was an overly structured upbringing built on scaffolding of very little substance.

I don’t want that for my children someday, and that’s what they would get with Val. She didn’t want to break up when we did, but it just wasn’t working.

My mother looks fondly at my ex before looking back at me. “Dexter, I just popped into the country club for a moment, just amoment, and there Valencia was. Why, if I’d gone not five minutes later, I’d have missed her, isn’t that right, darling?”

Val nods, her colorless gaze still on me. “It’s fate,” she agrees.

I have to hold back a skeptical snort at that; Val doesn’t believe in fate or anything of the sort. She relies on money and connections to get things done.

“And doesn’t Valencia just look lovely these days?” my mother goes on.

“I—sure. Yes, of course,” I say, because really, what else can I possibly answer? I can’t believe my mother is doing this, pushing me like this. I’m keenly aware of Geraldine, Agnes, and Clarence a few feet away, their eyes glued to me, their expressions interested—and in Geraldine’s case, skeptical. I don’t know how much she can hear, but she clearly isn’t impressed with what she’s picking up on.

Me either, Geraldine. Me either.I think I’d rather be talking about Clarence and Agnes’s love life, and that’s saying something.

My mother spends another few minutes going on about how wonderful Val looks, as though this will entice me, and I spend that time trying to fight against my rising panic. When she finally stops to take a breath, I seize my chance.

“You know, it’s great to see you, Val,” I say—lying through my freaking teeth—and I force another smile. There’s a buzz of anxiety somewhere in the pit of my stomach, and it has everything to do with Nancy’s calculating look. I need to hang up,now.“But unfortunately, I do need to let you go,” I continue, and I’m relieved when no one interrupts or cuts me off. My mother would absolutely stand off to the side and force a stilted conversation between Val and me, and I don’t want that.

“That’s fine,” Val says, giving me another robotic smile. “I’ll see you at Corbin’s wedding. Bye!”

Then she pats my mother on the shoulder and excuses herself, tightening her purse over her shoulder as she leaves the frame. I’m left with my jaw hanging, that sense of dread rising higher within me. Am I too late? I am. I’m too late—Nancy has already invited Val to the wedding.

“Mother,” I say through gritted teeth after a few seconds of silence. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I did, Dexter,” she says, frowning disapprovingly at me. “Valencia is such anicegirl, and she’s really quite taken with you. You know I think you would be perfect together. You never should have ended things with her.”

Geraldine lets out an audible snort, and I echo it in my head.

“We weren’t a good match,” I say, resisting the urge to shout. “And I told you I would bring a date on my own. As a matter of fact—” I pause before going on, hoping desperately I’m not about to dig myself into a hole, “I already found someone. A nice young woman.”

Of course, I’m pretty sure Maya would havefeelingsabout being described like that, but it’s what’s going to sound best to my mother, so I don’t correct myself. “So you can tell Val her presence won’t be needed.”

“Excellent,” my mother says after a second, though it sounds a bit forced—probably because she wants me to date Val. “That’s—that’s wonderful. Who is she?”

Ha. Nice try, Nancy. No way am I telling her about Maya; she’d have a coronary. “It doesn’t matter,” I say breezily. “You’ll meet her at the wedding. Goodbye, Mother.”

And with that, I hang up.

“Let me see,” Geraldine demands, and I look over at her, surprised.

“What?”

“The girl,” she says impatiently, waving her hand at me in a sort of snatching gesture. “The one your mother favors.”

“Oh,” I say. I move back to the table as I search through my contacts, finding Val’s number. I pull up her contact picture and pass the phone to Geraldine, who pushes her glasses down her nose and peers through them.

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