Page 2 of Blush

“You’ll be my maid of honor, of course,” she continues. “And next, I have to call Isabella and Gigi.”

Isabella and Gigi—Frankie’s besties.

As an introvert, I don’t make friends easily. I never have. And since my job as a virtual assistant keeps me behind a computer all day, I don’t have a chance to remedy the situation. I’m happy alone, to be honest. Life is safer that way, and I have always taken the safe route. I don’t need friends.

Well, except for one.

Jackson Paris has been my best friend since we were both in diapers.

He still is my best friend—on his side anyway. On my side? He’s my closest friend in the world. But inconveniently, he’s also the guy I’ve been hopelessly in love with most of my life.

To him, I’m as sexually interesting as a sack of potatoes. At least that’s how it’s felt over the years, when he’s never once looked at me with an ounce of interest or heat.

Unfortunately, I began to seehimas something more than a friend when we were in high school. He was busy growing into a gorgeous jock and captain of the football team who of course only dated cheerleaders. I used to tease him that he was a walking cliché, but he’d just wink and say that’s not what he’d call what he did withinsert girl’s name herelast night.

He continued with more of the same in college, where he played football again, majored in business, and landed an internship with Black Inc., under the tutelage of the blue-collar billionaire himself, Braden Black.

Now he’s climbing up the corporate ladder at lightning speed as he works in marketing with Braden’s brother, Ben Black.

And he still dates all the time. Well, anyonenotme. I sigh.

Why would he want a bespectacled, no-makeup-wearing brunette with boring gray eyes? Plus, there’s the fact that he’s never dated a woman for more than three months.I’m not the commitment type, he always says. Perhaps it’s a good thing he’s never seen me as more than a friend. Do I really crave him enough to risk losing a lifetime best friend for only a few months of passion?

Sometimes, on particularly lonely nights, that answer is a hard yes.

Frankie babbles on and on. Engagement party, the bridesmaids’ luncheon, the shower and bachelorette parties, and of course the wedding itself.

“It’s not going to be a long engagement, Mandy. We both feel like we’ve wasted so much time with all our silly arguments and breakups. We want to get married right away. In three months or less.”

I can’t help gasping. “Three months?”

“Yeah, but we can do it. The ceremony will be at Penn’s parents’ house. You know how huge it is. It’s an absolute mansion. And you don’t have to worry about anything. You’re the maid of honor, but Isabella and Gigi will take care of all the details, my shower and everything. They love that kind of stuff.”

Good. That’s fine with me. Isabella and Gigi are social animals. I’m not. I could probably put together a shower—how difficult is it to serve cake and punch and watch Frankie open gifts?— but a bachelorette party? Bridesmaids’ luncheon? So not in my repertoire.

“That’s great.”

“Isn’t it? Gigi has so many social contacts. Everything will be top-notch.”

Top-notch. Great.

“I do need you to come with Isabella and Gigi and me to the gown fitting next week.”

“Sure.”

“I want all of you to be involved in choosing the dress you wear.”

“Great. That’s great, Frankie.”

Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck on repeat.

Then my phone buzzes with another call.

My heart pumps wildly when I see Jackson’s name.

“Frank? I’ve got another call. It’s…work.”

“Oh, sure, I understand. I’ll keep you in the loop, okay, Mandy?”

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