Page 3 of The Romantic Agenda
“Again?” Joy snort-laughs, playfully rolling her eyes. “Where are we going this time?”
Ever since Caroline-ageddon, Malcolm’s been traveling nonstop, Joy being his companion of choice. They’ve driven to the Grand Canyon, watched the northern lights in Iceland, flown to remote beaches on private islands with sunsets to die for, visited museums and art shows, and attended fancy parties in skyscrapers that have no earthly business being so tall. A perpetual homebody, globetrotting has never been a dream of Joy’s. But hey, if it’s on someone else’s wealthy dime with someone she loves, who is she to say no?
Besides, every time Malcolm asked, she was mostly shocked that he even wanted to spend time with her at all. Because according to Caroline, the main reason why she left him was... Joy.
“I know you figured out that I’ve been planning something. I can barely hide anything from you.” Malcolm leans forward, locking her in his sights. No other human on the planet can make her feel like she’s the center of their universe. No one has ever made Joy feel the way Malcolm does. “But I’m keeping everything close to my chest this time. I don’t want anything to go wrong.”
Joy frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I have this plan.”
“A plan?”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I met someone. Summer.”
A record scratch screeches in Joy’s ears. “Summer?”
“We’re friends. We’ve been hanging out for a couple of months now.”
Everything suddenly feels blurry and detached, like she’s watching a reflection of the moment instead of living in it. “Months?” When? How? She literally saw his calendar every day, they spent an ungodly amount of time together after work, and when they weren’t together, they texted constantly. How in the hell did he squeeze a Summer into his life without her knowing?
“Two, to be exact.” He laughs again. “I think there might be something there. I’ve been wanting to ask her out, and I’m positive she’s into me, but it feels different this time.”
“Different?”
“I don’t want to just come out and ask. That’s boring. I want to make her feel special, you know? So I thought: What if I planned a trip specifically for her? We’d do everything that she loves, a whole weekend in her honor, and then at the end, I’ll stage a moment when it’s just the two of us and I’ll ask her.”
This is how Malcolm, a hopeless romantic and serial monogamist, dates—he doesn’t.
All his ex-partners came from their friend group. It always starts casual, hanging out and getting to know them, no pressure or pretense. Malcolm gets his patented “feeling,” and one sincere heart-to-heart later they go straight from friends to being in a relationship. It’s like a light switch flipping, friends to lovers so fast there should probably be a scientific formula to measure it.
Joy would know. She’s witnessed the shift enough times. What’s that saying? Always the bridesmaid, never the bride? That’s her. By his side for ten years and he’s never once made that record breaking shift with her. After the past year, after everything they’ve been through, she really thought—
“Joy? Are you listening to me?”
“Of course I’m not.” She frowns for a second before forcingherself to smile to keep him from reading her face, which he’s an expert at. He’s figured out how to guess her moods with ease, so she’s learned how to trick him.
“Anyway, so Fox is coming too.”
Joy discreetly reaches for the stress ball on her desk and holds it in her lap. Aiming for disinterested, she asks, “And who the hell is Fox?”
“I just told you. Were you really not listening?”
“IsaidI wasn’t.”
“I assumed that was a joke.”
“You know what they say when you assume,” she says. “You make an ass out of you, Malcolm Evans.”
“Joy.”
“What?” Joy snickers, giving the stress ball a mighty squeeze. Dad joke humor would get her through this hellacious situation one way or another. “Sorry. Please continue. You have the full remainder of my divided attention.”
Malcolm levels a glare at her that doesn’t last, softening in seconds. “When I invited Summer, I told her she could bring someone too because I thought she’d pick Fiona or anyone else besides Fox Yes-That’s-My-Real-Name Monahan. But apparently it’s his birthday.” He rolls his eyes.
Not just Summer—there’s also a Fox and a Fiona and an anyone else. It’s like he suddenly has an entire second life he didn’t tell her about. Why would he do that? She tries to not feel hurt. It’s not like he isn’t allowed to have friends, or he must introduce her to every person he meets. But it’s just... that he usually does. He always has.
“And I take it you don’t like this Fox person?”
