I shrug.
“And responded positively whenever you contacted him?”
I nod.
“And this asking you out thing was you somehow forcing your masculine wiles on him and mesmerizing him intothinkinghe liked you and also that he had to ask you out in order to be”—she uses air quotes here—”nice?”
I swallow. “Uh-huh.”
“Uh-huh.”
Shit. She’s right. She’s completely, utterly, totally right.
I rake a hand through my hair. He did. He actually liked me. A guy I’m completely crazy about liked me and I?—
What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
“Zo, I think I need to?—”
“Go up there and beg him to give you another chance?”
It’s a six-hour drive, but it’s barely dawn. Way too early to call George, but if I leave now, I’ll get to the cabin by early afternoon. And this is something I think I need to do in person.
“Yep.”
I hurry around the apartment, gathering my phone and keys. Pulling on my boots. My heart is racing. My mind is reeling ahead. I have no idea what I’ll say to George, but the ideaof being in the same place as him, being right there, has me legitimately giddy. I have six hours to figure out the rest.
I grab my coat, and I’m nearly out the door when I stop. I turn to Zoe. “Wait, I promised you I’d go to the wedding so you didn’t have to deal alone.”
“Pff, don’t worry about it. I only said that to get you there so I could introduce you to all of Luca and Cory’s hot, single guy friends.”
I should be mad, but I just laugh.
I’m halfway to my truck before I realize I’m still wearing the jacket and tie.
CHAPTER 53
GEORGE
I have made an important decision.Not a life-altering decision. Not a change-the-course-of-human-events decision. Not even a tell-someone-about-it-the-next-day-at-the-water-cooler kind of decision. But a decision that is within my limited control: I am not going to wallow.
At least I’m not going to wallow today. I make no promises about tomorrow, but we’ll see. For now, even though it’s my ex’s wedding day and I am alone in a strange town, it is also the day after I turned in my latest manuscript. I have a new project on the horizon that I’m genuinely very excited about. And it is a freaking holiday.
So I am on my way to the store to pick up some wine and cheese for one, and I am going to goddamn celebrate.
I arrive at the town square and pause to take it in. The storefronts with their holiday decorations. The tree, humble compared to the one in Rockefeller Center, but sweet. Welcoming. Snow on the ground, an inch or two deeper thanks to the storm that passed overnight, and in the corner of the square, I now see, a couple of new snowmen being fashioned by a group of kids. It’s over-the-top charming to the point of being ludicrous. I love it anyway.
As I push through the door into the store, the bell jingles its jingle, and Ruth looks up from behind the till. Carol is there too, leaning against the counter. I wonder if they’re gossiping about me or if they’ve moved on to something else. They must gossip about other things, right? They’re going to have to find a new diversion soon enough.
“Ladies,” I say with a nod.
“Hi, George,” They say in unison.
I grab a basket and collect my supplies. A bottle of the one kind of champagne (okay, sparkling wine) they have in the store, a chunk of local Vermont Cheddar. Some fancy crackers. A small bag of handmade maple cookies.
This ought to do it. I’m only here for a few more days, and I probably ought to use up the rest of the groceries I have back at the cabin. I’d replace all of the many frozen meals I ate of Owen’s, but I think both he and I would prefer I not attempt that sort of thing.
So that’s it then, I guess. I bring my purchases to the counter.
