So, yay. I finished my book.
I go to pour myself a good stiff drink in celebration.
DECEMBER 31
CHAPTER 52
OWEN
Zoe showsup at 6:30 sharp. I open the door, trying to look like some semblance of human, and she bursts past me, arms fully loaded with shopping bags and boxes and a full garment bag. I definitely don’t have the energy for this, but it doesn’t seem to matter. She has enough energy for the both of us.
“Hi, sweetie!” She blows me a kiss, unloading items onto the sofa. “Sorry, it has to be so early, but such is the life of an impromptu wedding planner.”
She does a little curtsy. I manage a grunt in response.
She comes over and pats my cheek. “I know, babe, but as soon as we get some caffeine into you, you’ll feel a lot better.”
I’m not about to explain to her that I’m fully caffeinated and that my lethargic state has little to do with the hour. Apparently, I don’t have to, though, because her eyes go to my mug on the coffee table. Then back to me. She squints.
“Owen, what’s wrong?”
I’m sad and lonely and pathetic. An amazing guy said he liked me and I blew him off. I am going to die surrounded by cats. Not even real cats, fake wooden ones I make by myself in my studio after all the real ones get bored sitting around watching me be me and run off.
“Nothing. Tired.”
She squints harder. “Mmm-hmm.” I don’t know what’s up with everyone. “George is mopey too.”
“I’m not—George is mopey? Is he okay?”
She waves a dismissive hand as she riffles through one of the bags. “He’s fine. He’s just being George. It’s par for the course, especially with the wedding happening today, although he tried to tell me it wasn’t about that and… …” She looks at me. A little too closely. But then she shakes her head. “Never mind. Ah, here we go”—she’s found a little box inside one of the bags she brought in—”I have extra cuff links. Do you need cuff links?”
I blink. “Uh, no. The cuffs on my one dress shirt come with buttons.”
Zoe sighs heavily, but it’s loaded with fondness, “Ugh, I forgot about your hopeless wardrobe. Right! That’s why I’m here. Okay, let’s see this shirt.”
I lead her to the bedroom, where I remove my white dress shirt from the closet. She scrutinizes it. “Yeah, okay. This will do. But not that jacket you sent me a picture of.” She wrinkles her nose.
“Unfortunately, it’s the dressiest jacket I have. And the only one I brought, because it’s the dressiest jacket I have.”
“Lucky for you, I come prepared!” I notice now that she’s got the garment bag flung over her shoulder. She plops it onto the bed and opens it up, pulling out a very expensive-looking black jacket. “Luca couldn’t decide between a traditional tux and a tailored suit. Last night, he finally opted for the tux, which leaves you, my very similarly sized friend, the proud, if temporary, recipient of this lovely piece, which I am pretty sure will fit you.”
She holds the jacket up in front of me and nods approvingly.
“Zoe, I?—”
“Thank me later. Try it on now with the shirt. We might need to pin a few places. I’m not sure.”
I sigh and start buttoning the shirt over the t-shirt I slipped on five seconds before she got here. She hands me the jacket, which I also shrug on.
“Not bad,” she pronounces. “Obviously hard to tell about the whole look with you in the jeans, but we’ll get to the pants in a minute. First, you need a tie.”
“I have?—”
She holds up a hand. “I saw what you have, O. We’re going to raid George’s closet. Don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t mind. It’s an emergency.”
He better not mind, considering he seems to have borrowed half my wardrobe while he’s been up in Vermont. A smile creeps over my lips before I remember everything else that happened and I just feel nauseous.
“Ah, perfect!” Zoe produces a tie from the rack she’s been flipping through. It’s silk and sort of a frosty, muted silver. Elegant. “This is the one he wore to the Oscars that time the adaptation ofMan of Steelewas nominated in all those categories. Come here, let’s see it on you.” She beckons me closer, clearly making to do the job herself.
