Page 4 of The One I Want
“Maybe the event business will be your thing too?” Jake says.
“Your faith in me is adorable. You also clearly haven’t spent enough time with me.”
Whitley comes over and gives me another side hug. “Whether or not this is your dream and I just found my new business partner, or you only work for me for a few months, I’m glad to have you on board. Between the events I have booked, and that little thing called my wedding, I’m overwhelmed. It will be nice having someone here who I can count on.”
“You say that now. Remember, I got fired from a Lady Foot Locker because I couldn’t organize the shoes properly. And those are shoes. If I can’t figure out shoes, I’m screwed.”
She waves me off. “No matter. You’ve never let me down in the past, and I doubt that’s going to start now. Plus, I’ve missed my best friend.”
“Hey!” Jake yells. “That hurts.”
Whitley rolls her eyes at Jake, who is doing a very convincing fake pout while holding a box of picture frames. “Like you didn’tjustsay that about Knox and Trent last week?”
He did. I was there. If people think Whitley and I have a codependent friendship, they should see those three amigos. They take bromance to a whole new level.
“I hate when you’re right,” he says.
“I’m always right.”
Jake shakes his head as he takes a box back to my bedroom. Whitley and I take a seat on the couch, which the bromance helped move in yesterday.
“I’m happy you’re here,” Whitley says as she gives my hand a squeeze. “I’ve missed having you minutes away.”
“I know. I still can’t believe I moved here.”
Whitley smiles. “It’s a great town. You’re going to love it.”
I raise my eyebrow. “I don’t know about all that. It’s very…small.”
“It is. But then again, you haven’t had the best of luck in the city. Maybe small-town life is what you need?”
I can’t argue with her on that, despite it stinging a bit to hear. It’s not like I had much in Birmingham. A string of failed relationships—if you can even call them that. Definitely not a career. Yeah, I had a few good friends, but with Whitley here, I was definitely lonely more times than I care to admit.
And then there’s my family…
I wasn’t surprised when my parents told me they were disappointed I wasn’t living up to my full potential by not holding down a job—and also not having a husband. But their decision to “let me figure out things on my own”—aka cutting me off—was a shock. But of course, they were too polite to say those exact words. The Southern passive aggressiveness in them would never allow that.
Not that I ever asked to be on their dime; I just got used to it. It started with them paying for my cell phone—family plans are more economical. Then they said they’d help with my apartment when I graduated and moved out on my own. Yes, I contributed. Yes, I paid my bills. I just didn’t tell them to stop paying the other ones.
Sue me. It’s not like my parents were hurting in the money department.
Or maybe they are? Either that or they are ready to take the money they were spending on me and use it toward something for them. Like a fifth car.
“You’re right. Maybe Rolling Hills is exactly what I need.” I think to how happy Whitley has been since she moved here. Then again, she did come into town with a boyfriend. “I must say, the cost of living is way better. I still can’t believe we found this place. It’s perfect.”
“That’s one of the benefits of Rolling Hills: when you need something, you’re guaranteed to know someone who can help you out.”
“I could never afford a rental house in Birmingham,” I say, looking around at the cozy ranch that I’m getting for a steal. “And the Taylors seem super nice.”
“They are,” Whitley says. “It also helps that they own the construction business in town. They did an amazing job when Jake and I renovated the house. So if anything breaks, not only are they next door, they’re also quite handy.”
“I saw a truck yesterday,” I say. “And the guy driving it? If he’s their son, I’m going to be breaking a whole lot of shit to make sure he comes over.”
Whitley laughs because she knows it’s true. If that man is single, Iwillbecome a one-woman wrecking crew.
“That was probably Luke. Though he’s a bit young for you,” Whitley says as she pats my leg before standing up.
“Of course he is. Does he have a brother?”
