Page 98 of Flaunt
“What was it, Sara? Three months?”
She stares at me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sharing our love story, babe. It’s inspiring.”Not to mention, I had better get a story together for the night of the gala.
The lady checking us out goes into a ramble about her ex-boyfriend and how she thought he was the love of her life. Sara and I exchange glances while we finish getting everything sorted. She’s amused but also thrown off a little.
Good. It’ll keep her on her toes. Can’t let our fake engagement get stale.
I slide my card through the reader, ignoring Sara’s stare, and take the receipt.
“Don’t forget Foxx’s key,” Sara says.
We stop at the customer service desk and retrieve it. This one is labeledFile Cabinetwith his phone number.
“You didn’t have to buy all of that,” she says as we walk to the truck. “Now I feel bad for getting all those things for myself.”
I smirk. “Guess you’ll have to figure out how to pay me back,bestie.”
Her gaze heats. “I bet we can work something out.”
Yes, I bet we can.
20
Sara
“Are you nervous about tonight?”Becca looks over the empty chair between us, one hand stuck in the hand dryer. “I’m not going to lie. I’m kind of nervous for you.”
“Yes, that one. The nude. Thank you,” I say to the nail tech before returning my attention to Becca. “You know what’s weird?”
“What?”
I do a quick internal check.Am I nervous?I wait to see if my stomach will curl or my blood pressure will increase. But all that happens is an excitement that bubbles from inside me.I get to wear a gorgeous dress and be with Banks all night.
“I’m not even a little nervous.” I shrug. “When I think about the gala, I figure I should be a little nervous. I’ll be meeting so many people who could really help me job-wise since I’ve gotten exactly zero bites on my résumé and applications. But I’m just not.”
Becca lifts a brow. “And Joshua will be there.”
“Meh.”
She flinches, surprised by my apathetic attitude about my ex-asshole. I’m kind of surprised too.
But I haven’t even thought about Joshua being there for a few days. He was the original reason I wanted to attend. I was so aggravated, so desperate not to be seen in a weak light. Now? I don’t care what he thinks of me. I don’t think of him at all.
A week ago, I was at one of the lowest points I’ve ever been. Discarded by Joshua, jobless, homeless—depending on friends to help me through the destruction. It shook me. I felt like I was grasping at straws to maintain some sort of semblance of order to my life.
That’s been a consistent theme since I’ve been an adult and essentially on my own. There’s never solid ground. I never have a footing from which to grow. I catch my breath only to have it knocked out of me as soon as I turn around.
A lot of it is my own fault. I try to fill the holes in my life, the loneliness in my soul—and the hours that go by—with people, places, and things. Anything besides taking a moment to breathe. Because if I take a moment to breathe, all of my feelings and thoughts and fears might rise up and overwhelm me. And who will be there to catch me if I collapse?No one.
But I feel more even-keeled than I have in a long damn time. It’s odd because nothing in my life is any sturdier than it was, and I haven’t fixed any of the problems plaguing me. But there’s a little more sunshine when I wake up in the morning these days. I’ll take it.
“Meh?” Becca says. “That’s all you have to say about him? What about the rants and tirades? Where’d all of that go?”
“What shape?” the nail tech asks.
“Almond, please,” I say.
