“Hmm. Was there ever something you wanted, couldn’t have it, found a reason not to want it, and then it plowed back into your life full steam, running frontward and backward over all the progress you made at not wanting it?”
Her eyes widen. “That sounds complicated. When I need to simplify things, I usually make a pros and cons list.”
“A list is kind of what got me into this mess. But you gave me an idea.”
“Is this about a guy?” she asks.
Hinging forward, I tap my forehead against the table. “Isn’t it always?”
As if she understands that “a guy” refers to my client, she says, “Cate wouldn’t swap you? Then again, it sounds like you got the best of the bunch. Did you see Maggie this morning? Declan is little more than an overgrown toddler.”
I wince. “I’m sure I’ll hear about what happened to the former Disney princess later.”
“And poor Cate. She has Wolf, the worst of them.”
“Yikes.”
“I’d say you’re the lucky one.”
I squawk a laugh. “Luck? What’s that? If you have some, I’ll take it.”
Not knowing how very serious I am, Everly laughs.
“The only thing I could do to get through the introductory interview was to pretend that I didn’t know Chase. It was nearly impossible to keep my face impassive, not revealing the effect he was having on me. I should’ve won one of those golden award statues for my performance.”
“Was it frustration because he wasn’t cooperative or?—?”
“Something like that. He wanted to stroll down memory lane, and our parents have all but arranged our marriage. Give my mother a credit card and thirty-six hours and she can do a world of damage. She’s probably already selected the flowers, place settings, and the cake.”
Cake reminds me that Chase showed me his true colors that day in the dining hall and he’s not someone I’m going to marry.
“You have a situation on your hands.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.”
“I’ve learned that striving for something I’ll never have keeps me in a safe space of familiarity instead of pushing me out of my comfort zone to go after what I really want. Just something to think about,” Everly says as an afterthought.
“You’re onto something and you gave me an idea for a list. I’ll make one with all the things about Chase that gross me out, that are icky, yucky, repulsive. Let’s see, he ruffled my hair, called me kiddo and Pippag Thomzeg.”
She frowns. “Harsh. What else?”
“Um, he’s somehow tan even though it’s only spring.”
“He probably spends a lot of time outside playing football.”
“He’s buff, brawny?—”
“Pippa, those don’t sound like icks.”
I tuck my chin back. “Are you kidding me? Ew. Who’d want a guy that’s in amazing shape, athletic, capable, has a dimple, swagger...?” A fluttery sigh escapes as I try to lie to myself.
Had Chase really gone to the infirmary to listen to me read to Liam Finnigan? He was behind in English class (and behind in growing as the smallest kid in our class). I didn’t want him to fail.
Not only that, but the way Chase had described his legacy moved something inside of me.
He’d always hold open doors for others in high school, raise his hand politely to not interrupt the teacher, and help out after class. Chase was a rugged, ruthless player on the rugby team who also cheered on his teammates.
Except for the sponge cake prank, he’s a good person underneath the charm, bravado, and the football star face, er, backside that he shows the world.
