I tilt my head back and forth. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”
“But you’d be good at it.”
My stomach flips, but I ignore the reaction. “Oh, would I? And why is that?”
She scoffs. “Because you don’t care.”
It’s a bit harsh, but I guess the truth can be sometimes. And once again, she isn’t wrong, so I go with it. “You want me to write a column about how I don’t care about the dates I go on or the outcome?” I frown. “I don’t see how that’s going to bring in ad revenue.”
“People our age are bucking traditional marriage and dating. They’re choosing to have kids with friends and live in mom communes instead of putting themselves out there.”
“Smart.” Smiling, I lean back and cross my arms.
“Not for someone like Sutton.” She flips back to the article and taps it. “There are no longer columns out there that focus on falling in love.No tips for how to spot the jackasses and how to make relationships work.”
With a sigh, I throw out my hands. “Okay, but I don’t know how to do any of those things.”
She sits up like I’ve made her point.
I’m so confused.
“Right,” she says. “But because of Sutton, you know what not to do.”
Slowly, I straighten, my mind whirling.
Josie points at me, her smile painfully bright. “See? It’s brilliant. We’ve watched our best friend try and fail at finding a relationship over and over. But what if you showed her that she isn’t the problem? It’s what she’s doing.”
“A column on how not to date,” I say slowly, my wheels already turning.
She purses her lips. “Or a how-to in reverse.” She hums, trying that idea on for size. “You do everything wrong, and in turn help your readers avoid common mistakes.”
“And Sutton,” I say, letting the idea really percolate.
Josie snaps the album closed. “And Sutton.”
“So I date a bunch of guys, do what she does, and get dumped, repeatedly.” I shrug. “Works for me.”
“Yes. An ‘it’s not him, it’s you.’” She tilts her head and scrunches her nose. “Kind of.”
I giggle, amusement washing over me, and pick up my pen. “That’s the title.” Quickly, I scribble it on a hot-pink Post-it.
It’s not him. It’s you. (Kind of.)
I nibble on my lip. “But I need a list of things she’s done wrong over the last few months.”
“Give me a bottle of wine, a pad of paper, and a couple of hours, and I’ll fill a notebook for you.”
I cough out a laugh. “What if she gets mad?”
“Sutton?” She scoffs. “The girl doesn’t know how to hold a grudge. That’s another one of her faults. She forgives too easily.”
I shake my head. “That’s her personality, not a fault. And it’s admirable. We’re just tougher on people. And I can’t fake who I am.” Itap my pen against the sticky note. “This will be good. I’ll do some of the things that people regularly do wrong, like inviting someone they just met to spend the holidays with them.”
Josie laughs. “Right. Or talking baby names the morning after you first sleep together.”
Without my permission, a gasp escapes me. “No one does that!”
Josie’s green eyes go comically wide. “Tell that to Kyra.”
