Page 111 of Guys Can't Write Romance
‘You sent the flowers, didn’t you?’
Three dots appeared almost immediately, then disappeared, then appeared again. Finally:
‘Guilty. Chloe told me about your dad last week, so I ordered the flowers yesterday. Hope it wasn’t weird. Just thought you might need something bright today.’
Tears pricked at the corners of Daisy’s eyes. Not weird. Perfect. She typed back:
‘It wasn’t weird. It was exactly what I needed. I just broke up with Ethan. For real this time.’
The response came quickly:
‘You okay?’
Such a simple question, but it hit Daisy with unexpected force. Was she okay? She’d just ended a relationship she’d investedthree years in, walked out of a party full of people who could have furthered Ethan’s career, and was standing alone outside a mansion in Bel Air.
And yet...
‘Actually, yes. I think I am. But I could use a friend right now. Any chance you could meet me at my apartment? I could really use my Hallmark movie buddy.’
Chad’s reply was instant:
‘Grabbing my keys. Wine or ice cream?’
Daisy smiled through the tears that had finally escaped.
‘Both. Definitely both.’
‘On it. See you in 30.’
As her Uber pulled up, Daisy took one last look at the glittering mansion behind her, at the life she’d just definitively turned down.
Then she thought of the daisies on her desk, of the quiet understanding in Chad’s eyes when she’d mentioned her father, of the joy of standing on a surfboard for those few perfect seconds that morning.
“Where to, miss?” the driver asked as she slid into the backseat.
Daisy took a deep breath, feeling strangely light despite the emotional evening. “Home,” she said simply. “I’m going home.”
Chapter twenty-nine
Christmas Puppies and Emotional Support Chad
Daisy made it home, kicked off her heels, and changed into her most comfortable pajamas in record time. By the time her doorbell rang, she had the perfect breakup picture arranged: fuzzy blanket? Check. Pint of ice cream? Check. Hallmark Channel playing on the TV? Check. All traces of makeup scrubbed from her face? Check.
“Christmas Puppy Proposal” was just getting to the part where the female lead discovers the male lead is secretly a billionaire when she heard Chad’s distinctive knock: two quick raps followed by a pause and then three more.
Daisy padded to the door in her fuzzy slippers, blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, and swung it open to find Chad standing there in his gym clothes, with what appeared to be an entire convenience store packed into shopping bags.
“I wasn’t sure what kind of breakup this was,” he said, holding up the bulging bags, “so I brought options.”
Daisy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as she stepped aside to let him in. “Are there different kinds of breakups?”
“Yup,” Chad said as he walked in. “You’ve got your ‘sad and weepy’ breakup, which requires chocolate and tissues. Your ‘angry and vengeful’ breakup, which demands spicy snacks and maybe some darts to throw at a picture. And then your ‘secretly relieved but pretending to be sad’ breakup, which calls for champagne disguised as more respectable ice cream.”
He began unloading his haul onto the coffee table, chocolate in various forms, three different flavors of ice cream, a box of tissues, a bottle of wine, a package of Oreos, and, for some reason she couldn’t begin to guess at, a rubber duck wearing sunglasses.
“A rubber ducky?” she asked.
“That’s the emergency backup plan, in case everything else fails. Studies have shown that it’s impossible to stay sad around a rubber ducky. Especially when it’s wearing sunglasses.”
