Page 3 of One Week Wingman

“You heard me,” I continue, getting into it. “I know you said I’m not strictly your…” I do air quotes: “…girlfriend,but it hurts to see you flaunting this… this…” I swallow as if I’m trying to hold back tears. “Hussy! I thought we had something.”

Seb’s eyes widen. “We do!” he blurts, catching on. “You’re great! You’re cool! But I’ve told you, I’m not that kind of guy. I don’t do commitment, I’m not about fidelity.”

“Wait, what?” Lulu perks up, looking between Seb and me. “Babe, who is this?”

“I thought I was his girlfriend,” I announce loudly. “But I’ve obviously just been kidding myself. Everyone warned me about him,” I continue tearfully. “I just don’t know what I’m going to tell the baby.” I put my hand on my belly.

Seb chokes on his beer. “The what!?”

“Our precious child! How could you forget? Cad!” I wail. I grab his water glass and toss it straight in his face, drenching him—and Lulu, too.

She leaps up. “You!” she cries, pointing at me in rage. “Andyou!” She stabs her finger at Seb, as water drips down his face.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he says with a sheepish, wet grin.

“You are?” she pauses, looking hopeful.Dammit. Sometimes the man is just too charming for his own good. And handsome.

I elbow Seb, hard. He coughs. “I mean, I think it’s best if we go our separate ways. Some scoundrels aren’t for changing!”

Lulu makes a harrumphing noise, and stalks out, slamming the door behind her.

“You really know how to pick them.” I smirk.

Seb shakes the water from his dark hair like a dog. “You enjoyed that,” he says accusingly.

“I did,” I steal some fries from his plate. “And so did Roxy Junior.”

“Ah, so we’re having a girl?” Seb asks, snatching the plate away.

“Absolutely. I have no intention of subjecting the world to another Sebastian Wainwright.”

“Ouch.” He clutches his chest. “Listen, you could do a lot worse.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Tell that to Lulu.”

“She was happy enough last night,” he quips, with a roguish smile. “And this morning. Twice.”

I roll my eyes. Most guys, I’d say they were all talk, but from what I’ve heard, Seb more than lives up to his own hype.

“Are you all set, or are there any more foolish, lovelorn women you need chasing off?” I pretend to scan the horizon. “Because I’m already running late because of your playboy ways.”

“And I appreciate it.” Seb gives me a genuine smile. “I owe you.”

“You’re right,” I tell him, as I put on my sunglasses. “You do!”

The music lessonturns out great—we master a whole ten bars of Harry Styles’ new hit—and finally, I head home. Back at my apartment, I get into my comfiest sweats and pour myself a glass of wine before finally steeling myself enough to bring up the reunion website.

Ashford Falls High – Making Magical Memories!

The text dances on-screen with old graduation photos, promising a night to remember down memory lane.

I wince.

Because nothing in my life has turned out the way I thought it would, back then. The Roxanne King smiling in those photos had the whole world waiting for her. I was going to go move to the city, go to law school and have an impressive, successful life as a big-shot lawyer. Think Ally McBeal (without the sexual harassment) meets Alicia Florrick (without the cheating husband) with a dash of Elle Woods’Legally Blondeglam for good measure.

And I almost made it, too. I studied hard, aced every exam, won scholarships, and made my parents proud. Then… I got to law school. And found that all my big dreams hadn’t prepared me for the cold, harsh reality of life as a wannabe lawyer. I was working around the clock, struggling to keep up with the courseload. That would have been fine, I was prepared to work my ass off, but what I wasn’t prepared for was the fact that I… hated it. The legal theories, all the big arguments: Nothing connected. It felt like I was swimming for my life, trying to keep my head above water, only to surface and take a big breath of air and find out… I was inhaling toxic sewer fumes.

Delicious.

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