“I trust you.”
“You’re blinded by your love for me.”
“I do love you. I also can’t cancel on my grandma again after I already rescheduled to go with you to the bachelorette party next weekend.”
She gives me one of her so-this-is-really-all-your-fault looks. It’s the same one she gives me anytime something in our house breaks after I’ve tried to repair it myself based on tutorials I find online. I think I’m resourceful; Becca feels I’m just delaying, and oftentimes worsening, the inevitable.
“It’ll be fun, Izzy,” Becca says. “Plus, I don’t know why we’re even having this conversation. W&R Mercantile would be a big client for us with the potential for them to hire us in a much bigger capacity if we come through on this analysis. They can only meet on the ninth. I can’t do that day. So…you’ve got to suck it up and go.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “Fine. But only because I want to be able to sayI told you sowhen they turn us down because of me.”
Because they will.
Regardless of what I said about the cursing, that’s not what will do it. They’ll come back and say they found someone who understands them as a company better.
What they really mean is that they didn’t connect with me.
I won’t have done anything wrong, but I’m not someone people are innately drawn to like Becca, and I can’t make people laugh like Bryn does, and I certainly am not a badass like Kelsey. No, I’m just…vanilla. In all aspects of my life, unfortunately. Maybe I really should look into a mail-order husband—that’d at least be interesting.
Chapter twelve
Jaxon
I’vegotmysunglassesand baseball hat on as I walk into Wild Crusts on Friday night. Leo, the personal security officer who will be taking over for Nash tonight, is already inside, sitting at a table with the pizza he ordered ahead of time. Nash is a few steps behind me, making sure I’m safe.
I collide with someone as I pull the door open, and my body flares to life at the contact. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” Then, when I realize who is in my arms, the awareness makes sense. “Hey, Izzy. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Are you stalking me?”
“I try to avoid that word since I’ve seen the dark side of it, but to be fair to you, not no. I do bring you coffee every morning, which does require me knowing where you are between the hours of seven and eight. But in this instance, it’s just a happy coincidence.”
“Ah,” she says, detaching my hand from where it’s holding her arm with a look on her face that I can only describe as confusion.“Well, sorry for running into you. I guess I should pay more attention when I’m opening doors. But I’ll see you later. This pizza isn’t going to eat itself.”
A lump rises in my throat at the thought of her leaving. Of laughing in the good fortune fate seems to be handing me tonight. “Stay,” I say. “Eat dinner with us.”
“Oh, that’s okay, I’m…” She trails off, clearly unable to come up with a good excuse for why she can’t eat dinner with me.
“Come on, Iz. I’ll be there,” Nash says from behind me, and I consider giving the man a raise. Glad to see he’s finally on Team IzzyandJaxon. “And Leo too. It’ll be fun.”
Izzy glances into the building as if needing to confirm Leo is there before she responds. “Alright. I suppose that would be fun,” she says, turning around and heading back inside. “I haven’t gotten to catch up with you in forever, Nash. How are things with Mikayla going?”
I watch her walk next to Nash, trying to pull my gaze from her swaying hips but finding myself unable to do so. In a forest-green shirt and a pair of jeans, Izzy looks like she might moonlight as a model for Levi’s. It’s not just that she’s almost six feet tall. Izzy has grown softer in just the right spots, rounding out to a figure that’s impossible to look away from.
Nash takes the seat across from Leo, leaving me the spot with an unimpeded view of Izzy.
“Mikayla is currently on the comedian assignment,” Nash says in response to Izzy’s question. “It’s great we finally get to date now that we’re not both on Jax’s team, but it’s also tough trying to coordinate our schedules so we’re in town at the same time.”
Izzy settles into conversation with Nash, her face lighting up as he tells her about his first date with Mikayla. Leo jumps in, both he and Izzy giving Nash grief for something or another. I’m only half listening, choosing instead to spend the time watching Izzy.Cataloging the changes between the woman sitting across from me and the girl I knew before.
She’s more reserved than the Izzy I knew. Her smile doesn’t stretch quite as wide, her laugh a little more subdued. But she still listens like you’re the only person in the world she wants to be talking to, and whenever there’s an awkward moment, she fills it with self-deprecating humor.
I wish I knew what caused her shine to dim just slightly, but I know I don’t deserve that knowledge. Or, even worse, maybe I already know the answer—maybe it was me. As egotistical as that sounds.
“Okay, okay,” Nash says when both pizzas are gone and there are three empty beer bottles on the table. “I will convince you that cheesecake is the superior dessert another time.”
“Impossible,” Izzy says. “Cheesecake is trash, and so is anyone who likes it.”
“Savage, Iz,” I say on a laugh, then hold my hands up when she turns a glare on me. “Izzy. I’m not disagreeing. You know I hate cheesecake.”
