It won’t matter at all that she’s still single. It’ll be utterly irrelevant.
‘And of course, you can bring a plus-one if you like.’
Ah. Maybe not so irrelevant.
But that’s okay. How long can it possibly take to woo Sam with the time-honoured tricks of Jane Austen? She can definitely do it by then. Two birds, one stone: she won’t be a loner, and he, seeing her all dressed up as a bridesmaid, will only be further distracted.
She doesn’t have time to prevaricate among the petunias. It’s time to put the Jane Austen Experiment into action.
Chapter Eight
Wednesday night is karaoke night, and nothing gets in the way of that. Not even engagements and weddings. At least not yet.
‘C’mon,’ Lexi tells Erin. ‘It’ll be good for you. You’re about to disappear into the tunnel of wedmin doom for the next year. You’re going to need to have some fun.’And so will I, she adds mentally. She’ll need the distraction from her impending loneliness.
Erin looks up from the kitchen table, from her newly acquired pile of bride-themed magazines. ‘I’m sorry, but did you just refer to my wedding as a tunnel of doom?’
‘No.’ Lexi shakes her head vigorously, to underline her point. She refrains from telling Erin that her wedding does, in fact, spell doom forher. She knows she’s going to have to do a whole lot of refraining over the next year. Erin is Lexi’s friend– herbestfriend, even; certainly her oldest friend– and she loves her. But still, everything is changing– it smarts a little. ‘Not to your wedding, of course not. But to all the stuff that goes with it. Planning is hard. And I’ll help you, I promise. You know I love a good list. But only ifyoupromise to take Wednesdays off for karaoke.’
‘I can’t promise every—’
Lexi puts her hand on her hip, the universal sign of being both Displeased and Serious, and Seriously Displeased.
Erin holds up her hands in defeat. ‘Fine.’
But Lexi can’t help wondering if, instead ofGreaseduets with Erin, she’ll have to resort to ‘All By Myself’ more often than not.
Across the city at Muzette, Lexi is a couple of drinks in, which is her sweet spot for both singing and talking. Or, as the karaoke gang sometimes call it, never shutting up.
‘I want to sing something about having a plan,’ she tells them, proving their point.
Sofia, Imani and Catherine exchange looks. They’re wondering, probably, if they should ask what she’s talking about. They’re deciding, probably, all things considered, not to. But Lexi is two drinks in, so she’s going to tell them anyway.
‘I’ve got a plan,’ she announces, unnecessarily.
‘Fine,’ Imani says. ‘I’ll bite. Would you like to tell us what? Because, call me perceptive, but I sense that maybe you do.’
If Lexi weren’t two drinks in, she’d play coy. Instead, she blurts, ‘Enemies to lovers.’
The blank looks warn Lexi that she’s going to have to explain. Maybe bring a few copies ofBeach ReadorThe Hating Gameto hand out next time, for everyone’s education.
‘All the best love stories start out with people who hate each other.’
Erin fiddles with her engagement ring. ‘Sometimes they start with people who are friends,’ she says quietly.
Lexi looks at her; it’s possible she even glares. She will not be deterred in this moment.
‘Do you have any particular enemy in mind?’ Imani asks. She’s clearly determined not to drag this out, which is a shame, because Lexi had a whole plan to make them guess. She’s a little sad that they haven’t already. It’s not like she’s never complained about this particular nemesis.
‘Sam. The bookshop guy. He’s just so... so...’
‘So?’
‘So annoyinglygood-looking. I bet half his sales are down to how good-looking he is. And that’s just not fair, you know? It’s pretty privilege. Isn’t this supposed to be a meritocracy?’
‘The book world, you mean?’
‘No. I mean, yes. But—’ She waves her drink around, a few drops jumping out and hitting her in the face. A total waste of a perfectly good daiquiri. ‘This. America.’
