Probably not.
The car Ida had lent me sputtered as I drove slowly down the hill into town to Girl Meets Fig, a trendy restaurant on a side street. It had an adorable little courtyard outside with firepits. Erika and Jasmine were already there, enjoying a cheese platter with, of course, fig jam, cured meats, and various local cheeses along with a bottle of white wine.
“There she is! Miss Working Girl!” Jasmine said happily. Puff, her chunky foster corgi, wagged his tail at me.
“Probably not for long,” I said, hugging my friends.
“I literally cannot believe that Parker is your boss,” Erika said. “Did he make eyes at you the entire time?”
“Didn’t you say he asked you for a topless photo?” Jasmine demanded.
“He denies any of it ever happened,” I said, still bitter and angry about being humiliated. Even worse was that I had allowed myself to dream that Parker would fall in love with me. Instead, he had screwed me over.
“Maybe he’s sexually frustrated, and having you in his office was too much for his poor little male brain,” Erika suggested.
“Doubtful,” I said as Jasmine handed me a glass of white wine. “He was all over Kaitlyn. And she’s basically already started planning their wedding.”
“Oh, he wants you. He just doesn’t want to admit it,” Erika said sagely.
“I don’t think he wants to marry someone like me,” I said dejectedly.
“Eyes on the prize,” Jasmine said, pouring Erika more wine. “You’re not looking for marriage, you’re looking for a hot guy with a huge dick who’s going to make waiting to lose your virginity all worth it!”
* * *
Erika hadto go to Manhattan, so I went back to the apartment alone. The adult thing to do would be to drink some cleansing tea and maybe do some yoga. What did I do instead? I baked.
I was being responsible and cooking things for lunch—biscuits, obviously, because I could tell that tomorrow was going to be even worse than today. I made chess pie and fried chicken biscuits, then I settled down on the bed with a Jane Austen fan-fiction novel and some hot chocolate to go with my snacks. Kaitlyn might have given me grief for my eating habits and my appearance; however, I liked how I looked. I felt like my roundness made me cozy and approachable. My figure might not be desirable in Manhattan, but out here in small-town America, these were my people.
The next morning, I was cursing small-town America as I woke up to find Ida inches from my face. I screamed, jerking upright.
“I didn’t want you to be late for work,” she said brightly.
I peered at my phone. “I don’t have to be in for an hour.” I groaned, lay back down, and rolled over. Something dug into my cheek.
Ida moved my head aside. “You have part of a chicken biscuit here. You know, you shouldn’t eat in bed. I knew this guy, Olaf, big guy, loved his food,” she said, puttering around the studio apartment, turning on all the lights. “He liked to eat in bed. Once he was eating a whole schnitzel while watchingMasterpiece Theater. Then he choked on it!”
“Did he die?” I asked, horrified, resolving never to eat in bed again.
“Oh no, I was there,” Ida said. “I was in between boyfriends. Olaf and I hook up occasionally. Not right now, obviously, since I’m with Bert.”
She flexed her arm. “I did the Heimlich on him—almost broke his ribs. I’m made of steel, don’tcha know. Saved Olaf’s life that night. But if you’re not going to have a partner around on a regular basis, then you might not make it.”
Was it too early to drink? I looked outside. The sun was just peeking over the tops of the old brick buildings.Probably too early to start drinking.
“Let’s get ready for work,” Ida said, throwing an outfit on the bed for me. “You’re there to find a man! You need to look the part.”
“I’m not! I’m there to pay off my student loans and credit card debt,” I protested.
“Be there early, have your boss’s favorite coffee blend ready to go. Wear a tight skirt and high heels. You’ll be Mrs. Svensson in no time!” Ida said, digging through my underwear collection and handing me a push-up bra.
* * *
When I arrivedin the office, I wasn’t sure if I should have bothered. Was Parker really the man I wanted to lose my virginity to? Maybe he had some other, nicer brothers who would be better options. I sat on the couch in Parker’s office, trying not to yawn as I watched people trickle in for work. I had packed biscuits and homemade peach preserves for lunch. Somehow all the chicken biscuits had been eaten last night. I should have made sausage too. Instead, I’d let Ida rush me out of the apartment.
“I’m not getting here this early tomorrow,” I muttered. My stomach growled. I hadn’t even eaten breakfast.
“What are you doing here?” Parker said behind me, making me jump.
