Never the Bride Read Free Page A

man was gone.
    I realize I am standing in the middle of the hallway near Nicole’s desk. She is gabbing on the phone but looking at me funny. I go to the coat closet next to the bathroom. I always, always keep a spare change of clothes at work, just in case I have to do something like change my tire. Or someone else’s. It’s happened. I take out my least favorite suit, which is why I keep it here. It’s lilac with a boxy neckline that makes me feel like I should be a nanny. I head toward the bathroom.
    “Stone, get me the ad copy for the new Hope Ranch listings.”
    This is my boss, Mr. Coston, dragging me back to reality. He pops his head out the door as I pass by but yells at me like I’m down the hall. I don’t think he even remembers my first name.
    “Already on your desk, sir,” I say.
    He’s in his sixties, with a loud but raspy voice and shiny silver hair that tops a permanent look of disappointment. “What happened to you?”
    “Blown tire.” I hold up my suit. “I was just going to change.”
    “Fine. Then get me a latte. Lighten up on the sugar, will you?”
    “Right,” I mumble as he disappears. “Lighten up on life, will you?”
    I’m the office equivalent of a bat boy. I’m the coffee girl. It’s this one thing that sort of drives me crazy about my job. I do a lot of important things, but when I have to run get coffee, I feel like I’m falling down the rungs of the occupational ladder. It makes me wonder. If I had a job I could get passionate about, would I be so desperate for a husband? I could drown myself in work rather than my dreams.
    Well, either way, I’m drowning, and that’s never good.
    After I change and decide I really, really dislike the color lilac, I grab my purse and head for the neighborhood Starbucks. It’s five blocks away and I like that. It gives me time to walk and think on such things as to why Mr. Coston has been married for thirty-four years, the exact number of years I haven’t been married. He doesn’t mention his wife much and doesn’t even have a picture of her in his office. He doesn’t wear a wedding band, and when he does take a vacation, it’s with his buddies to golf resorts.
    It just seems like the world could better balance itself out, that’s all.
    I’m nearly to Starbucks. People are leaving with their white and green cups of bliss. The putrid smell of coffee will soon replace the putrid smell of old rainwater evaporating underneath the sun. I’m not a coffee fan. I’m high strung. The feeling everyone wants by drinking coffee I have naturally, just like my chestnut hair.
    I’m about to open the door, and then I see him, in all his glory.

two
    He’s sitting at one of the outside tables in front of Starbucks, busily texting. I pull out my phone and pause. I know exactly whom he’s texting. My phone vibrates almost instantly.
    PLAY HOOKY .
    Before I go on, I have to explain Blake to you. It’s complicated, but stick with me.
    Blake is my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids. I grew up to be smart, sensible, and brunette. He grew up to be smart, sensible, and hot. We’ve been through a lot together, but I never could shake the attraction to him that I’ve felt since we were sixteen.
    I remember the exact day he went from irritating to irresistible. We were at a birthday party. Our birthdays are nine days apart, and his mother was always kind to include me since my mom had a hard time organizing events, or even dinner, for that matter. Blake never minded. We shared many friends.
    Anyway, it was the smallest thing. One second he was Blake. And the next, when he offered to pour my drink for me, he became more. My heart skipped a beat and for a second I thought maybe something was wrong. I stared at the fizz swelling over the top of the plastic cup, dribbling down the side. His finger caught it, swiped it. He took a napkin and cleaned the rest. He looked at me and said, “Sorry about that.”
    It’s no
Casablanca
moment,