Page 71 of New Girl in Town
“You heard me, lover boy. See ya, Aurora!” She waved at me and Grant looked up at the second floor where I stood in disbelief and mortification at my best friend’s antics.
The woman had lost her ever-loving mind!
“Yup,” I managed to yelp when Grant’s eyes met mine, and threw myself back into my apartment, slamming the door shut. I sagged against the door and banged my forehead against it with a moan.
“This is a nightmare and I can’t wake up,” I muttered. I let myself stay there, face-planted against the cool wood, while I mentally tried to calculate how fast I could make it to the nearest airport, or if just driving straight down to Mexico would be the best option for disappearing.
But then my phone chimed in my back pocket and I pulled it out, face still pressed to the wood in defeat, to see a text message from Melinda pop up that read:T-Minus twenty-five minutes, buttercup.
“You little monster,” I told the phone. I shoved it back into my pocket and pushed away from the door. Just because my best friend had gone rogue didn’t mean that I had to show up at Grant’s looking as out of sorts as I felt. I paused at the table on my way to the bathroom and stared down at the gold necklace gleaming in the fading afternoon sunlight. It was a beautiful piece, to be sure, but could I wear it?
Maybe I should bring it tonight and give it back to him.
Go with the flow. Enjoy tonight.
“Right,” I told myself, remembering Melinda’s words. She might have used drastic measures to encourage and put me with Grant, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. I did have a tendency to get in my own way, and I knew that a part of me clung to that habit when it came to Grant.
I could handle the necklace question later. Unlike the flowers, a Cartier necklace was...well, it was big. It was too much for just friends, and I’d bring it up, but not tonight and certainly not after Melinda’s little performance.
Reaching down, I trailed a finger along the delicate chain before I snapped the case shut and shoved it away from me and toward the flowers.
I made sure to check my hair and makeup, and added a touch of blush and a light lip tint because a little extra confidence when spending the night with your brand new ex was standard-issue armor. I shrugged on an oversized sweater and toed on a pair of slippers before I checked the time and saw that I had just enough time to grab a bottle of wine before I headed downstairs. It was only when I rapped on his door that I realized a bottle of wine might be sending the wrong message.
“Shit,” I whispered, and turned, looking for a place to stash the wine before Grant opened the door. There was a potted plant to the side, a coat rack that no one used, and a lone trash can. The foyer was clean and spartan, which I normally loved, but right now I found it inconvenient. I had just resolved to bury the wine bottle in the potted plant when the door opened behind me. I froze where I held the bottle above the potted plant and cursed.
“Aurora?” Grant asked from behind me, and I plastered a smile on my face before whirling around to face him.
I waved at him, not even bothering to hide the bottle of wine in my hands. “Oh, heyyyyy.”
He inclined his head toward the bottle in my hand. “What are you doing?”
“Watering the plant?” I said.
“With wine?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.
“I hear it’s got antioxidants.”
His lips twitched and he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Come on in. Dinner’s pretty much ready and that bottle of red will go perfectly with it.” He turned and disappeared into his apartment, leaving me staring after him.
“Yeah, okay, sure.” I swallowed hard and looked down at the offending bottle of wine. With my head held high I walked into his apartment and shut the door behind me.
“I made pasta,” Grant said when I walked into his living room. I nodded but stopped short when I caught sight of the pasta roller set up behind him on the counter.
“Wait.” I held up a hand and gestured. “Youmademade pasta?”
He looked up from the plate he dished food onto. “Yes, Imademade pasta.”
“Like with your own two hands?” I was unable to mask the surprise in my voice. Grant made a slight face before looking back down at the plate he sat in front of me. It was classic comfort food, a red sauce bolognese topped with fresh parmesan, and my mouth watered at the sight of it.
“Why do you sound so surprised?” he asked, his voice soft. A frown pulled at his features, and I wanted to kick myself for putting the look on his face.
I laughed and set the bottle of wine down on the counter. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound so…”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “So shocked?”
“Yeah, that.” I gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. It’s just that no one has ever made me dinner before. A man, I mean.”
“Wait, what?” His change in body language was instantaneous. He uncrossed his arms and leaned against the counter with an incredulous look on his face. “What do you mean, a man has never made you dinner before? You were married.”
