Page 99 of Go Find Less

“Back to what I was saying,” she says with a half-laugh, her face coming fully into focus. “It sounds like things are compounding for you, between this new relationship with - Fitz, was it? - right, and the situation with Bethani. I’d also really like to talk about how things are going at work. Last time we spoke, you mentioned that you were concerned about really being able to express yourself.” I nod, looking down at my hands in my lap, where I was holding a Dr. Pepper just below the line of my desk. It was my third of the day, which wasn’t unusual - but paired with the venti, triple shot Starbucks I’d started my day with, it’s safe to say I’m extra caffeinated and feeling a little uneasy.

“To be honest,” I start, using the can as the only excuse not to nervously pick at my fingers, “I’ve been feeling sort of off for a while.” Ava nods, typing away on the keyboard in front of her. “Maybe it’s because we’re starting to come up on some anniversaries - or just with everything going on personally.”

“With Fitz?” Ava asks, and I give her a shrug - still an honest answer, if not one I don’t know how to quite articulate. “Is this feeling something that’s affecting your work life, or do you think it’s the other way around?”

Damn. Right in the feels.

I let her words sink in. Truthfully, there were a lot of things that had me sitting on the edge of my seat lately, one of which was Fitz. But looking back at it - I’d come up with some of my best designs in the last few months. Inspired, beautiful pieces that I’d been told were too much.

I’d made them, because for the first time in a long time, I’m not afraid to be bold and big and gregarious and all of the things that had been attached to so much negativity in my life before. Because the way Fitz had looked at me Saturday night, and again Sunday morning (ok, and then again right before he took me home), that made me feel like bold was the best thing in the world.

When I’m finally off my therapy visit, I step out into the hall to see Carla at the counter munching on a bowl of cereal, Bex waiting patiently at her feet for anything she may drop. Without looking up from her phone, she gestures with her spoon to a box on the counter, pink and velvet with a big satin bow.

“That came for you while you were in therapy.” She gives me a glance over her screen. “I managed to snag it from the delivery guy before he could ring the doorbell. I swear, that sign is useless.” She goes back to her bowl, but I stare down at the package on the counter.

I slip the small envelope from beneath the bow on the front and slide the notecard out. I recognize it almost immediately - the same kind that had been sent with the champagne and chocolates before.

Consider this my belated birthday present. Looking forward to having you on my arm, if you’ll join me.

- FNW

“Any idea what the N stands for?” I nearly jump out of my skin when I realize Carla is standing behind me, so close that her question sends goosebumps up my arms. I smack her a little harder than necessary, and shoo her to the side so I can have my full elbow range to slide the bow off the box.

“You’re the one who's been cyberstalking everyone for this reunion,” I counter, and when I lift the lid, whatever comment either of us had poised next falls to the wayside.

Nestled on a bed of gray tissue paper is a laser-cut gold lace invitation. I pick it up oh-so-delicately, watching the way the overhead lights bounce off the metallic front. I open the tri-fold flaps, and read the playful script font.

You are cordially invited to…

Fae League of Fort Worth’s

Annual Charity Gala

Saturday…

The rest of the card details the location, which I immediately recognize as a WHG venue, along with times, dress code, RSVP information…

I don’t even take a second to breathe before I’m fishing my phone out of my pocket. Fitz answers on the first ring.

“I take it you got my present, then?” his low voice asks, and the reaction in my body is nearly visceral. I hadn’t heard his voice since we were on the phone together Sunday night, and all it’s making me want to do is hop in my car and find myself quickly in his bed, preferably with little-to-no-clothing.

“Mhmmm,” is all I can manage as I take the invitation and walk into my room, shutting the door with my foot and falling back onto the bed with a satisfied sigh. “You really know how to woo a girl.”

“Well, I had some help.” Mentally, I wonder which of my friends - or his friends, I guess - helped him pull this off, but instead I just let him continue. “I figured you’d love an excuse to get dressed up - uh, more than normal.”

“It’s almost like you’ve known me for more than half my life,” I quip, watching the gold reflect lace cutouts on my dark canopy curtains.

“I have a feeling we’re just getting to know each other, Piper.” A smile spreads across my mouth. His voice gets a little quieter when he asks “Scale of one to ten, how excited are you?”

“Are you in public?”

“Yeah, I’m at theMonarchat a late budget meeting.”

“You answered your phone.”

“You called.” My mouth goes dry and I try to swallow the lump in my throat.

When Mickey and I started dating, there would be days where I wouldn’t hear from him, maybe at all. I would call, and he’d always respond with aWhat’s up?text instead of actually letting me hear his voice. I later found out that a lot of those days and nights were spent with other women - women I’d forgiven him for, even married him, after.

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