Page 40 of The Fangirl and the Grump

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After showering,shaving, and shampooing, I slip into a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt to blow dry my hair and apply my makeup. I plan to get dressed at the very last minute so there’s zero chance I’ll get the dress I plan to wear tonight dirty. I want to look perfect.

I wanteverythingto be perfect.

As I finish drying my hair into fat curls and shut off the blow dryer, there’s a knock at the front door. I tap the screen of my phone to check the time in a panic, thinking I’d somehow lost track, but it’s only seven-thirty. Trace said he’d pick me up at eight.

Despite not being anywhere near ready, I can’t fight the smile on my face as I walk toward the front door. Gripping the handle, I turn it and pull the door open, saying, “You’re early.”

I punctuate the words with a gasp as I catch sight of the person on my doorstep. It’s not Trace.

“Pressley?” I breathe, taking in her tear-stained face and curled-forward posture. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I please come in?” she asks, her voice thin and reedy. “I really need to talk to you.”

I stare at her for a long moment, tempted to slam the door in her face, but she looks so desperate, I can’t bring myself to do it. At her core, Pressley isn’t a bad person. She made some horrible choices where I’m concerned, sure, but she’s nothing like Madison and Sloan.

Sucking in a deep breath, I take a step back and motion for her to come in.

“Thank you. Thank you,” she whispers through her tears as she hurries in like she’s afraid I might change my mind.

She stops in the middle of the living room and nibbles on a cuticle while she waits for me to close the door and join her there. I motion for her to sit in one of the chairs while I take the couch. Once we’re comfortable, she blinks rapidly like she’s trying to keep her eyes from leaking again. Then, sniffing delicately, she squares her shoulders and stiffens her spine.

“I came here to apologize and try to explain,” she says slowly, then relaxes a bit when I don’t jump in with an argument and an order to get out. “I should have told you the second I found out. It was the day Carter broke things off with you. I didn’t even know, yet, and I got to the boutique early that day and overheard Madison and Sloan talking about how Carter ended your relationship and how Madison had been sleeping with him for months. I didn’t know before that moment. I swear. I was shocked, to say the least, and when Madison realized what I overheard, she threatened to fire me if I told anyone, especially you.”

She pauses to let me digest that information. Madison owns a bougie boutique in downtown Seattle, and Pressley has been managing the place for her for the last several years. She’s worked her ass off to make that place a success in hopes that Madison would one day let her buy in and become a full partner. Pressley has big dreams of opening more locations and turning what started as a tiny boutique into a national chain.

Being fired and having all of her hard work go down the drain would be devastating for Pressley. As much as it pains me, I can understand why she’d be hesitant to cross Madison, even for me.

“But that’s not all,” Pressley goes on when I don’t speak. “She convinced me that you’d hate me for telling you. That our friend group would dissolve because of it, and losing your best friends on top of your boyfriend and your job would break you. That you might…hurt yourself.”

“What?” I bark, finally breaking my silence. “I would never.”

“I know,” she says, her voice turning pleading, “but at the time, I was so upset, it kind of made sense. She played on my worst fears and my desire to make everyone around me happy. Convinced me you’d be better off not knowing, and together, we’d get you through the rough times. I didn’t know what to do, so I just went along with it. I know it was wrong. I’m so sorry, Keegs.”

Threats. Emotional blackmail.

Yep. It checks out. Sounds like something right out of Madison’s playbook.

“Give me a minute,” I say, pushing myself up from the couch.

I head back into the bathroom and grab my phone from where I left it on the counter. Biting my lip, I pull up my text thread with Trace. My thumbs hover over the screen for a few beats, then I sigh.

It has to be done.

Me:Please don’t hate me, but I have to cancel for tonight. Pressley just showed up on my doorstep, and she’s a wreck. I need to stay here with her so we can work everything out between us. Rain check?

I get a response almost immediately.

Wolf Daddy: I completely understand, and I’m going to hold you to that rain check.

Me:Tomorrow night?

Wolf Daddy:It’s a date.

Energy surges through my chest as I read those three little words. It’s adate.

I’m smiling as I walk back into the living room, and when I look at Pressley, she’s watching me with hope in her eyes.

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