Page 17 of The Opposite of Romance
“I do. But my clothes didn’t get the memo.” She shrugs. “We can go shopping this week. Can you take a break from writing?”
“Guess so.”
“Please tone down the enthusiasm. Stella will think something is wrong,” she deadpans.
I laugh.Fuck, I love her.
We agree to go tomorrow, since Stella will be with her grandmother, and soon it’s time to pick the kids up from school.
“It’s weird to be back,”I say the next day as we stroll downtown Seattle, just the two of us.
“Good weird or bad weird?”
“Not sure.”
In a way, it feels like getting back to my old life. A small part of me expects to go to our old house after we finish this, making discomfort settle in my stomach.
“Come on,” she slips her arm under my elbow, “we’re not here to think about the past. We’re here to focus on the future. Who knows,” she smacks her lips, “someone from your romance trope list could be at the awards.”
“Regarding that…” I make the world’s longest pause, because she deserves it. “I might’ve already found someone.”
Sandy smacks my shoulder. “What? Who? Why didn’t you tell me?” She digs through her purse before grabbing the romance trope paper.
“You carry that around?”
“Yes, I do. You never know when inspiration will strike. You, of all people, should know that.”
I huff a laugh. Her gaze is digging into me, so I continue. “You know Kayla, Liv’s friend I told you about? Well, her dad kind of asked me on a date.”
“What?” Another smack to my shoulder. This one hurt a bit.
“Not really a full-on date. But he told me we should grab a glass of wine while the kids play at their house.”
“I’d say it counts as a date in parenting world, yes. Ooh, he’s a single parent.” She checks the list. “A small-town single dad.” Her voice is brimming with excitement now.
“And he owns an ice cream shop,” I mumble, making her eyes grow literal hearts in them.
“That’s like the romance trifecta right there,” she whisper-yells. “When’s the date?”
“Oh. He suggested this Friday, but the kids are at David’s.” I shrug.
“So? You were supposed to suggest another day. That’s how these things work. Think of your romance books, Sadie. Think of the ice cream.”
Her dramatics make me giggle. “Sorry, I’m out of practice.”
“We’re going to have to fix that. I will make sure you flirt your way through the award ceremony.”
“Can’t wait.” My tone drips sarcasm, but she’s immune to it.
Two hours later,we’re both carrying bags with our new dresses.
“I will really look like that invitation card.” Sandy rolls her eyes at my comment.
She forced me to buy a silver, shimmering dress that is way more in your face than I usually go for.
“Umm, you’ll look stunning in it. And you’ll obviously fit the theme of the party.” She smirks.
As I’m getting ready on Friday, I have to admit she’s right. Not that I plan to tell her that—it’s best not to feed the beast. The corset-like sweetheart neckline makes my tits look like they haven’t breastfed a single child, let alone two. The metallic fabric somehow both accentuates my figure and hides my insecurity spots. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to turn a few heads. I’m a free woman, after all.
