Page 9 of One Week Wingman

“You know, now I think about it, he has had something of a glow-up,” Nita agrees. “All that sawing and hoisting agrees with him. And clearly, Daisy agrees.”

“Ewww.” I shudder at the thought and gulp my wine. “It’s not just me, right?” I check. “This is weird.”

“Definitely weird,” Nita agrees.

“He was my first, you know? And now he’s with my sister?” I repeat in disbelief. “Am I just supposed to act like nothing’s off about that? Like, ‘Hey Jason, how you been?’ when all the while I know how he looks when he comes.”

I scrunch up my face and go cross-eyed, and Nita snorts with laughter. “No!”

“Yes!” I wail. “There’s no forgetting something like that!”

She giggles. “Evan’s is more like…” She furrows her brow, looking deadly serious, her lip twitching as—

The man himself emerges from the back storeroom, dressed in his usual ‘former dirtbag chef’ uniform of torn up jeans and a leather vest. “Are you having a stroke?” he asks Nita, leaning over to grab some chips from the dish on the table.

“I’m showing your O-face for Roxy,” Nita replies.

He snorts with laughter. “Shouldn’t have asked.” Evan smiles over at me. “Hey, Roxy. You good?”

“Oh you know, usual hometown trauma.” I wave and gulp my wine.

“I’m familiar. Dinner?” he asks Nita, quirking his pierced eyebrow.

“I saw a couple of eggplants in the fridge,” she says with a shrug. “You could—”

“Do the cheesy thing you love—”

“With the peppers?” Nita finishes.

“You got it.” He drops a kiss on the top of her head, and ambles out. “Leave some wine for the customers!”

“You two are adorable,” I sigh wistfully, once he’s gone. They met in New York, when Nita was trying to make it as a dancer on Broadway, and Evan was toiling in the kitchens at some fancy Michelin-starred restaurant. When Nita busted up her ankle and had to wave goodbye to her dreams of the chorus line, he decided to move back here with her, revamp the bookstore, and make it a destination for book-lovers everywhere.

Nita tops up my rosé—have I really downed a whole glass already? “I know, I really hit the jackpot with that one,” she beams smugly. “His cheesy eggplant thing? Delicious.”

“That better not be a euphemism,” I tease, and she hoots with laughter.

“It is now! How about you?” she adds with a wicked grin. “Is our favorite fake boyfriend, Stefano, keeping you well-fed?”

I groan at the reminder. “I was planning to stage a big break up with him, but there’s no way I can do it now. The reunion, the anniversary party… And now Daisy and Jason, too? That fake relationship is the only thing I have going for me.”

Nita tuts. “You know that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” I reply. “My mom would say otherwise. Stefano is the only reason she hasn’t signed me up for life coaching or brought out that ‘What Color is Your Parachute?’ book. Again!”

Nita’s reply is interrupted by the bell above the door ringing out with a merryDING!

“Oh my God, how cute!”

A trio of familiar faces bustles in, wearing stylish loungewear sets and perfect blow-outs. “Roxy and Nita,” one of them coos. “Just like the old days. I swear, you haven’t changed at all. Not one bit!”

Nita and I exchange a glance. The bitches of Ashford Falls, back in town again.

Here we go.

“Jessica, Megan, Courtney!” Nita pastes on a smile, as we both get to our feet. “So great to see you girls. Back for the reunion?”

“Obviously.” Jessica preens. “We’re hosting all the pre-game fun. It’s going to be fabulous.”

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