I have nothing else to say. I know she’d be settling with me, and I want more than that for my best friend. I love the woman with every fiber of my being, but so did Ridge with Tiff. And Pops with Mom. And look how happy those guys are now.
I check the time on my phone for the hundredth time. Shelby watches my every move.
“You expecting a call?” she asks.
I go to answer her but get cut off when her eyes widen, and she stares out the front window of Canoodles, distracted finally. The telltale click-clop tells me my plan has arrived. I slide out of the booth and hold out my hand to her. She takes it, still staring at the white horse that’s stopped in front of the restaurant.
“What the…”
I pull her outside, where we both stare up at the guy on top of the horse. He’s dressed in pretty fucking realistic armor like a real knight of the Round Table. The chest plate piece clanks when he lifts his arm and takes off the metal helmet.
Clark is handsome in a scholarly way, hands smooth from turning pages, not wrestling cattle or sanding wood. The kind of way Shelby would find attractive. He doesn’t spare me a look, which is good. I didn’t hire him for me. This whole show is for Shelby. For our public breakup.
Several people have crowded closer to see what the deal is. It’s not every day a knight prances down Main Street on a white steed. Mrs. Perkins pushes to the front of the crowd with her cane. She gets a little too close to the horse for my comfort, probably because she can’t hear unless she’s right on top of everything.
“Hello, fair lady,” the knight booms, stretching his arm in Shelby’s direction. “The soft morning dew couldn’t be as sweet as you. No fairer place to rest one’s head than in the arms of a lover, and yet does this scoundrel give you respite?” He glares at me quite convincingly. “Provide shelter through the storm? Anchor himself so he can be the tether that brings you home? I dare sayeth not!”
God, this guy is good. I don’t even know what the fuck he’s talking about.
Shelby glances at me in confusion. The knight slides off his horse with a loudclinkand dramatically tosses his helmet into the street. Shit, I hope no one drives over it.
“Dallas! Hey!” The second part of my plan has arrived in tight jeans and a low-cut top that has me glancing away in embarrassment. One inhale too deep, and she’ll be experiencing a nip slip on Main Street. Primrose, the girl I hired to flirt with me, slides her arm through mine and presses those boobs against me as she stares up at me through fake lashes. She’spretty…in a way that does nothing for me. “You comin’ back to my place tonight like usual, sugar?”
Shelby’s mouth falls open. The knight slides his metallic arm around her waist. “Come, my fair maiden. Away from this rapscallion. My love would never find another. Let us ride off into the sunset together.”
“I knew it!” Mrs. Perkins squawks and points at me. “Death by STD for that one.”
I roll my eyes. Of all people, why did she have to witness this breakup? Primrose goes up on her tiptoes to kiss me. I turn my head at the last second, stomach churning, and she gets my cheek.
Clark takes a step forward toward the horse, but ends up tipping off the curb, almost taking Shelby with him. The metal shin guards have slid higher, blocking his knees from bending. He just tips right over in slow motion, and down he goes to the asphalt in a pile of metal clanks and curses. The onlookers gasp. Shelby rushes to help the poor guy, and Primrose looks around confused.
“Oh my god,” someone whispers. “A leg shouldn’t look like that, right?”
“Wait. Is that Shelby Sweet?” Primrose asks loudly. She steps back and smacks my chest so hard I wheeze. “You wanted me to fake an affair with you so you could break up withShelby?? You should have told me that! I’d never do that to my girl, Shelbs. She saved my pookie last year. My little hedgehog baby.”
I groan. I should have known this wouldn’t work out. None of my grand gestures did, so why would my breakup? I should have hired real actors from Hollywood, not amateurs from one town over.
“A little…help…here,” the knight croaks from down below.
“Dallas!” Shelby stands, coming over and giving Primrose a side hug. “We have to call an ambulance. His leg’s broken.”
I already have my phone out, calling dispatch. “Hey, I have a bit of a scene here.”
The dispatcher, a woman we went to high school with, cackles. “Yeah, I’m already getting calls and have an ambulance en route. Mrs. Perkins is streaming it live on her Instagram.”
My head shoots up to see Mrs. Perkins shoving her cell phone in Clark’s face as he wails in pain. D’Wayne slides in on Clark’s other side, his orange ski cap askew. The cardboard sign he’s been holding lately about the end being near blows away down the street.
D’Wayne thrusts his fist in the air. “We must cut off the leg! Here. You can bite down on my leather belt.” Clearly he’s getting into character right along with Clark. Crap, maybe I should have hired D’Wayne. He’s pretty believable.
I hang up, look up at the sky, and pray for patience. For wisdom. Maybe even for a crater to open up and suck me in.
“See?” Shelby says, sounding way too calm. “Let’s save the grand gestures for the fiction books.”
Primrose whacks me in the gut again. “I can’t believe you!”
Shelby shifts to stand by my side. “Don’t sweat it, Primrose. He’s just going through something right now. A bit of an identity crisis, I think. He was trying to put together a third-act breakup, but we all know how those end up.”
Primrose rolls her eyes but thankfully appears to have stopped hitting me. “Oh god. I hate third-act breakups.”
