Page 134 of Plays Well With Others

I guess it’s a good thing I accidentally flashed him my boobs one fine day. Later tonight, when we’re home alone, I’ll do it on purpose.

EPILOGUE

HOW TO HOLI-DATE

Rachel

I’m dreaming of a foggy Christmasdoesn’t quite have the same ring to it, but does it ever work for this evening. As I peer through the window of my jewelry shop at the misty night sky, I remember why returning home was the best decision I ever made.

When I moved here from Los Angeles several months ago, I was hoping I’d lick my wounds, see my friends, and start over away from the painful memories.

Now, I have so much more, including regular customers, and as a new business owner on busy Fillmore Street, I’ll take that any day.

The Date Night series rejuvenated my business, and the customers keep coming, both here and in Venice, where I have a new, very loyal, very punctual manager. I couldn’t be happier.

The bell above the door tinkles, and Ava comes in, looking stylish in a black coat and black boots.

“Hey, you.” I greet her warmly, hoping this is one of her good days.

As she unloops her scarf, she meets my gaze with a sparkle in her eyes. Yes, it’s a good day for sure. “Hey to you too. Got anything for a gal who’s moving on?”

“I sure do,” I say, smiling, grateful to hear she’s healing too.

“Something that saysI have good vibes about my future,” she adds.

“Of course you do,” I say. We’re not best friends. I don’t think we ever will be. But we support each other as women who’ve been through the same thing, and as female entrepreneurs, regularly sending business to each other.

I’ve referred her to Elena too. Paying it forward, I suppose.

Ava peers around the little shop, checking out my display of trendy, artsy jewelry—boho necklaces, chunky bracelets, and cool rings—but I point her to Fable’s “Treat Yourself” line, then spot the perfect one for Ava. I show her a silver chain that has a B hanging on it.

She arches a brow in curiosity. “Is the B for badass?”

“You know it,” I say.

“I’ll take it,” she says, then slips her phone from her coat pocket to pay.

“Your money is no good here,” I say. Then I hand her a little silvery bag with the necklace in it. “You deserve it.”

“Thank you. And there’s a free massage for you anytime you want,” she says.

“I won’t turn that down,” I say, but I don’t know if I’ll use it soon. A certain football player has very strong hands and loves to work out the kinks in my neck each night.

Well, he loves to work out all my kinks.

We’ve explored many others. Scarves, blindfolds, and handcuffs now and then. And all sorts of spatulas. Sidenote: a shoehorn leaves wonderful marks. Big, beautiful bruises that make me feel…wanted.

Everything he does makes me feel that way.

Especially the fact that we decided to keep doing our How to Date series after all. We’re not doing the series out of obligation. We don’t do it for money. We do it for fun, when we want to, sharing with others how a real relationship feels. What it’s like to hit the town with someone you love who loves you back the same, big, beautiful buoyant way.

We like to share what the real thing looks like.

I guess we’re sort of like romance doctors. It’s our thing.

Tonight, as I’m walking down the street in the foggy evening, silver and gold lights twinkling on the shop windows, the real thing looks like the most handsome, big-hearted person I’ve ever known waiting for me outside The Spotted Zebra.

Carter

---