“Nah.”
“When did they split up?”
“Last year, I think? He was kind of out of commission while they were married, then he started trying to reconnect with people after it ended. Sounds like she was pretty controlling.”
“So is he, like, hitting on me?”
Megan laughed. “Since when do you need to ask that question?”
“I don’t know, this one is weird.”
“He’s a little weird. But not creepy weird. Just . . . quirky.”
“I can see that,” I said. “But, like . . . what now?”
“Do you want his number? I can ask Tim.”
“God no!”
Megan laughed again. “Is that not how dating works anymore? I’m an old, soon-to-be-married lady. I don’t know how you kids do these things nowadays.”
“Dating happens entirely through coffee sleeves now. You’ve missed everything.”
“Apparently. Are you interested though?”
My heart twisted a tiny little bit in my chest—not over Alex, over the question itself. I could read between the lines of the word she chose to emphasize. Megan would give her blessing if I were serious enough. But otherwise she didn’t want to deal with the fallout and I couldn’t fault her for that. We had been down a similar road before.
“No,” I said quickly. Maybe too quickly. “He seems cool, but just as a friend.”
I heard her sigh in relief. “Obviously I’d say go for it if you liked him. But . . . you know . . .”
“I know, Megs. I promise. Just friends.” A pause. “What did he ask about me though?”
“Just what your deal was.”
“What did Tim tell him?”
“That you’re really easy when you switch from martinis to wine. But he already knew that.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
Megan laughed. “K. Text me later!”
I shook my head. She was ridiculous.
I wouldn’t say I rushed to get ready for work on Friday morning, but I was mildly more conscious of the time than I typically was. Not that I wanted to get to Starbucks while Alex was still there. No, that would be way too awkward. And would probably lead to him asking me out, which I would absolutely say no to and would definitely make things more awkward. But I was anxious to see if I got a reply. No matter what I told Becca, it was cute.
I forced myself to walk slowly to the Metro and then from the stop to the Starbucks, reminding myself that I didn’t actually care and that my message had been distinctly nonchalant.
I arrived a couple minutes earlier than usual, but still later than the day when I had run into Alex. I made my way through the line and got to Taylor. “Anything for me?”
She shook her head. “I told you the first message was better.”
I felt a twinge of disappointment, but it was for the best. Really. There were plenty of fish in the sea who weren’t off-limits.
“Grande skinny vanilla latte then,” I told her. “Actually, make it a venti.” I deserved a treat for behaving like a grown-up.
CHAPTER TWELVE
From: Caryn Donaldson [[email protected]]
To: [bridesmaids]
Subject: Wedding newsletter volume 2
Date: October 28
You guys! My wedding dress is officially being made! How crazy is that?
Now, it’s time to focus on YOU. I want all of you to feel as beautiful as you did on your wedding days （or will someday, Lily!） when you stand up there with me, so we need to find you the perfect dresses! I’ve got some ideas, but I want as many of you as possible to come shopping for them so we can make sure we find something that flatters everyone equally. Which shouldn’t be hard, I mean you all look like runway models anyway! How does next Saturday look?
There was more—a lot more, actually—but I had stopped reading. The only thing “runway model”-esque about me was possibly my height. I stood a solid six inches over the rest of Caryn’s Lilliputian bridesmaids. And while I felt pretty good about my pant size most days, you could probably fit one of Caryn’s friends inside each leg and still have room for dessert.
I heard the chimes starting to signal a chorus of replies, but I muted my computer. I had work to do on a press release about a presentation being made at the next cosmic ray conference.
An hour later, Caryn popped her head into my office. “What’s wrong?”
I looked up. I was almost finished with the draft. “Nothing. Why?”
“You didn’t respond to my email.”