“Do you pay attention toanything?Have you even noticed how frugally she lives? Clothes are a luxury. You just take for granted that money is no object, but that’s not MacKenzie’s life. She won’t even let me buy her things; she doesn’t like feeling like she owes me. And I’ve been her friend for practically our whole lives. I’ve tricked her by giving her brand-new things, telling her I was going to toss them if she didn’t take them—and that they weren’t really new. That’s how stubborn she is.”
I remain silent. I’m learning a great deal about my girl. And… I’m learning some things about myself as well.
“But the coat is totally separate. The coat isn’t about money, or lack of money. That’s all I’m going to say. You’ll have to ask her about it. I will say this, though. Every little spot or stain onthat coat has its own story. And until Mac is ready to let the coat go, or let youin, you’re going to have to deal with the coat.”
“I see.”
“Do you? I’m not feeling it. Whoever taught you appropriate things to say to a woman totally sucked at their job. You never say the wordfatto a woman who’s dressing up for you. You never tell a woman that anything about her reminds you of a guy. Jeez. Did youreallytell her you wanted to get fat with her?”
“Uh, yeah,” I say weakly.
She starts to laugh, but I suspect it’s at my expense. Still, I’m going to be hopeful that this is a good sign. I also hope it means she’s done with the verbal smackdown.
“She’s been the same weight since she was seventeen. It’s who she is. She’s beautiful, smart, kind, and clever. But she’s not a size two, and she never will be. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t self-conscious about her body. She once had a guy say he couldn’t sleep with her because her thighs were too fat. So if you’re too stupid to accept her as she is, then you’d better move along.”
“I think she’s beautiful. I love her body.” I love her thighs.
“Could have fooled me,” she mumbles.
“I know. I’m not lying when I say that I lose my mind around her. I can’t think straight.”
“Sounds likelove,” she teases.
Love? “It’s only been eight weeks.”
“You’re counting last week? I wouldn’t. Ghost-time does not count as being in a relationship. Of course, you may not get another chance with her.”
I ignore the last comment—I refuse to believe that. “What am I going to do?” I whine again. This time to a woman who doesn’t like me very much.
“Grovel. Beg. Show her you care about her—not her clothes.”
She’s still not answering my question. “But what do Ido?” I whine.
“Google it, dumbass.”
I hear a click. She hung up. Man, these women are tough. I hope Lauren’s husband has balls of steel. He’s gonna need them.
I drive up to the restaurant and wait for a valet. This is the hottest place in town, and I had to call in a favor to get the reservation. Shyanne wanted to eat here, so here we are. I run my fingers through my hair and then touch my forehead. “I really think I’m coming down with something.” I give the valet my key. Walking into the building, I mentally prepare for the longest meal of my damned life. I just want to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep for a week. And… of course, I want to ask Google the question: How do I win my girl back?
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
HOW TO WIN YOUR GIRL BACK
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
RESISTANCE IS FUTILE
Scowling,I trudge into Watertower Place on Monday morning. Taking the escalator up, I walk into the store. “Thank you, Jesus. You’re actually early today,” says a smiling Theresa.
“Yeah, I woke up super early. Thought I might as well come in. I owe you.” Plus, I finished my new jewelry set last night and I’m anxious to put it in the case. This set contains a long chain, a pair of earrings, a bracelet, and a shorter necklace. The short necklace can be worn on its own or layered with the long one.
Yeah, like someone is going to buy both necklaces.
“You okay, Mac?” asks my boss.
“Yes. Just had a crappy weekend. You know how that goes, right?”
“I sure do.” She smiles again. “Well, maybe this will cheer you up.”
