I level him with a poisonous stare. “Do you realize how happy Angie would be if you dressed up? Besides, I already promised her you would. You can’t back out now. She’ll be heartbroken.” Truthfully, I never made such a promise to Angie. But he doesn’t need to know that.
His eyes meet mine, softening instantly. Bingo. I’ve pierced him straight through the heart with my arrow of guilt. He slumps his shoulders in grumpy resignation. “Okay. Fine. But no pictures. And why does Scotty get to be Prince Charming?”
“Because he’s charming,” I explain, to Scott’s delight. Normally, I have no interest in feeding my brother-in-law’s already inflated ego, but I’m willing to take one for the team if it means grinding Trevor’s gears.
Trevor places a hand over his chest, offended. “And I’m not?”
I try my best to keep a straight face while denying his natural charm. “You’re certainly not a wholesome type of charming.” I let my gaze flit over the intricate Celtic knot tattoo adorning his right arm.
Trevor mutters something unintelligible under his breath and starts slicing into the cardboard with his X-Acto knife as the soothing, instrumental melody from the lantern scene in Tangled fills the room.
Suddenly, I’m hit with a momentary stroke of genius. “You’re going to be Flynn Rider.”
“I don’t even know who that is. Why do I have to be some off-brand prince?”
Before I can explain that Flynn Rider is anything but off-brand and happens to be Angie’s favorite, Crystal bursts through the door with a hefty load of plastic bags on each arm.
“What took you so long?” I demand, popping up to inspect the bags.
“The roads are bad. I had to drive slow,” Crystal explains, kicking off her slushy leather booties in the entryway. She sets the bags on the floor and shuffles over to admire my Rapunzel tower, which will double as a photo shoot prop. “I was also busy with a little research.”
“What research?” I ask, smirking when Scott not-so-subtly checks out her backside.
“Found out where Daniel works,” she says nonchalantly, like it’s no big deal. Like he isn’t my very last hope.
I drop my Sharpie and lurch forward on my heels. “What? How did you find Daniel before me?” I ask, though it probably comes out more like HOWDIDYOUFINDDANIELBEFOREME? I wait with bated breath as the rush of adrenaline plunges my body into all-out chaos.
For dramatic effect, Crystal waits a few seconds before revealing her findings. “He works at that big tech company downtown. Flopify. That one that took over the old Macy’s building.”
“How did you find him? I’ve looked everywhere.”
“I have my ways,” she says, her eyes glinting, keeping the mystery alive. “Just kidding. I found him on LinkedIn. It really wasn’t that hard. I texted you the link to his profile.”
“I’m forever indebted. Seriously, though. I would lick your gym shoes if you asked me to.” I throw my arms around my sister’s shoulders, only narrowly avoiding stepping on the hot-glue gun.
She inches away from my smothering hug. “Really not necessary.”
“Are you gonna DM him?” Trevor asks, not looking up from his latest attempt at a horse cutout.
I shudder at the thought. “Oh, no. I can’t reunite with him via DM. I only have a week and a half before the gala. It’s not enough time to reestablish our rapport. I need to run into him naturally.”
Trevor sighs. “You’re going to stake out the front of his workplace, aren’t you?”
“Correction: we are.”
? chapter twenty
EVERY STATION IS running ads. Posturepedic mattresses. Car dealerships.
Trevor emits a tortured sigh as I fiddle with the radio dial, finally landing on an old Wilson Phillips song.
“I will turn this car around if you change the station one more time,” he warns, alarmed that I’m messing with his preset channels.
“Sheesh. You sound like my dad,” I say wryly. “It’s not my fault you don’t have Bluetooth. I’m just trying to enhance our experience. Now smile and wave to your fans,” I order, angling my phone to him.
When he sees it’s on Live video, he grumbles, promptly covering my phone with his free hand. “No. You’re distracting me while I’m driving.”
“Oh, come on. Give the people what they want. Just a quick hello,” I urge.
He rolls his eyes and gives a frosty hi before fixing his stare toward the slush-covered road. I take this as a sign to end the video.
Unsurprisingly, Trevor had to be bribed with Five Guys milkshakes to accompany me to Daniel’s workplace during a snowstorm. The windshield wipers are working overtime to clear the flurry of snow streaming off the SUV ahead. Trevor is aggrieved, muttering softly about the legalities of wiping the snow off one’s car. He’s driving turtle slow, simply to make the point.
He’s also taken to posing hypotheticals:
What if he works from home?
What if he’s sick today?
What if he exits through another door?
What if he already left the building for a meeting?
What if he’s on vacation?
What if he got facial reconstruction surgery, rendering him virtually unrecognizable?
While Trevor makes （some） valid points, at least I will be able to say I exhausted every avenue before desperately sliding into Daniel’s LinkedIn DMs.
“You’re kind of killing the mood here,” I say, dropping my phone in the cupholder. “This is my very last and most promising ex. The only one on that list who knows the real me. I would regret it forever if I didn’t pull out all the stops.”
He peels his eyes from the road to meet my gaze. “I’m just . . . worried you’ll be crushed if it doesn’t work out with him.”
Oof. I rest my head against the seat as the stifling wave of reality washes over me. In all the excitement of this ex-boyfriend goose chase, I haven’t fully considered the possibility of none of them working out. My hands clench in my lap, envisioning Seth’s smug face if I fail in my pursuit and show up at the gala alone. And worse, I think about the crushing pain of scratching Daniel’s name—the very last name—off the list. I can’t let that happen. After Seth, my heart simply can’t withstand more carnage.
I avert my stare out the window, avoiding Trevor’s worrywart expression. “I know it’s dumb. I know the whole ex thing seems frivolous. But how pathetic would it be if I, the biggest romance novel fan ever, failed to find book-worthy love in real life?”
“Tara—”
“I never told you, but this time last year, after Seth broke off the engagement, I was at a real low point. I could barely get out of bed. I thought no one would ever want me. Even a year out . . . I still can’t help but think that sometimes.”
“If this is about going to the gala, I’ll go with you.” His offer is so casual, I’m unsure I’ve even heard him correctly.
“Really? You’d waste your Valentine’s Day to come to a random gala with me?”
He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “Yeah. Why not? It’s for the heart center. And what else would I be doing on Valentine’s Day?”