“That would be so sweet. You shouldtotally do it.”
“Oh my gosh, he’d be so excited.” I can hear her smile through the phone. “He’s been asking me for months, but I think he finally gave up the other day when I told him he was stressing me out. He literally won’t have a clue. Eeek! Consider yourself officially warned. I’m having a baby.”
I laugh. “I hate to break it to you, but you have to make one first.”
“Hello? That’s the best part.”
I laugh but ignore the comment, being severely deprived in that department. “I can’t believe I found out before Sebastian. You just made my day.” I clap my hands in excitement.
“You’re so funny. Speaking of making babies, regarding the making part, are you back in the saddle yet?” The question isn’t new, but I figured she was tired of asking and hearing the same answer because it’s been a while—apparently not. At least I had a short reprieve.
She’s been concerned since New Year’s. When she called the next night after getting an earful from Sebastian about his brother’s mood, she listened to my sobbing for an hour until Poppy came back over after bringing me home from the airport earlier and relieved her.
Okay, so counseling was a brilliant idea, which I started the week I returned. Not that I’m any different than I was a month ago, but I’m more optimistic about overcoming my irrational issue with relationships. Apparently, I have a disorder called gamophobia—an actual fear of commitment. My counselor picked up on it right away from hearing me speak about leaving San Diego and the family business along with my experience with Eli and past dating habits. We’ve been delving into it since.
I’ve considered dating again, but Eli takes up too much space in my brain to spend time with anyone else. I’m working up to it, but until then, I should probably make up something so she’ll stop worrying and asking every time we talk. Though knowing my luck, it would probably backfire and make things worse. It’s always better to stick to the truth.
“I’m getting closer. A guy from the office has been asking me out, and I’m considering it.” It’s not a lie. A newer agenthasbeen asking, and Ididconsider it… for all of two seconds before I said no.
“That’s good. You should, even if it’s not someone you’d normally go out with. At least get your feet wet.” I can hear the relief in her voice.
I’m terrible for embellishing. Liars never prosper. Or is it cheaters? Oh, fuck, neither come out ahead in the end.
“I’m swamped right now. It’s ski season, so a ton of buyers are coming to town.”
“Yeah, yeah, and then it’ll be spring and then summer, and you’ll always be too busy. Just go on a coffee date at least. Pleeaase? For me?”
Shit. She’s pulling the big guns out now. When did she learn to use my tactics and turn them around on me? But maybe she’s right to start small. A harmless café for an hour to get the ball rolling.
“Fine. I’ll do coffee.” My eyes roll even though she can’t see.
“Yay! That’s all you need. One test run to prove you’ve still got it. I can’t wait to tell Mia I talked you into it.”
“You guys should not be discussing my love life. Jackson doesn’t need to hear that.”
“He doesn’t, don’t worry. Oh, but listen to this, Mia said Jackson’s been hinting at marriage again. I think she’ll say yes this time.” My brother asked Mia to marry him the minute she came home, but she said no, that she wanted to live together for a while first. Hearing they might get engaged is like a punch to the gut. Not that I wouldn’t be happy for them, but at the same time, it’s a stark reminder of what I gave up and so far out of my reach.
“Wow. Jackson hasn’t said anything. I hate not being in the know.”
“Move back, then. We miss you.”
“I miss you too. Come visit me this summer,” I say, ignoring her suggestion and offering one of my own.
“We should. Let me talk to Sebastian about it and check when we could come.”
“You’ve got my hopes up now, so you have to. Tell me as soon as you talk to him. But I’ll let you go so I can call Jackson. He better spill.”
“Cici, you can’t tell him I said anything,” she says frantically.
“I won’t. Promise. Call me when you decide on a date to visit. Love you.”
“Love you more. Bye.”
My mind is spinning as I dial Jackson. If that brat was planning to propose and not tell me, he’s in for it. But how do I draw it out of him without giving up my intel?
“Hey, Cici. What’s up?” Jackson answers.
After a few minutes of work talk and chitchat about the parents, I find a perfect spot to lead into it. “How is having Mia’s mom so close? Is it weird?”
