She was on the committee for this soiree and had been appointed as the florist-in-charge, making her officially responsible for any decoration malfunctions during the event. Therefore, getting snockered wouldn’t do at all. The white poinsettia trees she’d created couldn’t monitor themselves.
She’d also strung twinkle lights across the entire ceiling so they came together in the center, effectively creating a luxury big-top style ceiling that added amazing ambiance and sort of looked like a flower with the strings of lights radiating like petals from the central cluster.
If she got tipsy, who would take care of all those things? The whole event could implode with one tipsy Anna and a loose string of lights.
That’s what she had convinced herself of, anyway.
One final sip—fine, it was more of a gulp—and she set the drink aside.
“Roman’s here.” Anna tilted her head in the direction of her oldest brother, who was standing at the ballroom doorway next to aJingle Ballssign and scanning the gathering crowd.
“I’ll be back.” Sadie hurried toward her fiancé as he meandered into the ballroom.
Anna was the opposite of her siblings. First, she had all brothers. So there was that. And they were all brawn and testosterone and laid back while she was more along the lines of a curvy, high-strung pixie.
Roman treated Sadie like she hung every star in the entire night sky, so Anna forgave him for nearly all of the shit he’d put her through during their childhood.
She wanted what they had, and she’d thought for the briefest of moments that she’d found it. But then Drake went and ruined it all with his inability to commit to anything that didn’t involve a football and bajillion-dollar sponsorship deals.
At the thought of Drake, her stomach began to churn against the two sips of eggnog.
The twinkling lights seemed to pulse just a little too fast and the pine scent became overwhelming when her mind shifted to him.
She rummaged in her clutch for her cell and scanned her messages. Not that she was searching for something in particular, but if he were to reach out again, she might text him back this time. Only because they were going to see each other soon. There was no other reason.Liar.
Still, simply because their relationship had imploded like an avalanche didn’t mean she should leave her texts unchecked.
He knew the night was a big deal to her, and when they broke up, he knew she’d be left with no one to escort her to her big event—the Jingle Balls Ball. Yes, she had broken up with him, but vulnerability sucked, and frankly, she wasn’t very good at it.
“You’re not texting him.” Heather shook her head firmly.
Anna bit at her lip and stopped herself from finding his name in her contact list.
“Did you doallthe decorations?” Heather asked in a clear attempt to distract her. “They’re totally fabulous.”
They really were. “I did.”
Heather absently rubbed at her pregnant stomach. “You did a wonderful job.”
“It really did turn out nice.” Anna glanced up from the screen of her cell and took in her handiwork. She’d done an excellent job, if she did say so herself. In addition to the white poinsettia trees and the strings of lights, she’d created little vignettes throughout the room with comfy white sofas and enough fake white Christmas trees to create a fake white forest. A subtle blue glow had been added, as well as carefully placed bowls of all varieties of nuts, because you couldn’t have a testicular event without an abundance of nuts.
TheDenver Postwould probably put pictures of the soiree in their next issue.
With her attempt at distraction clearly successful, Heather grinned. “See, you are the best florist in Denver. Don’t tell my husband I said that.”
Anna’s brother Jase did give her good competition for the title of best florist in Denver. But he hadn’t volunteered for the Jingle Balls Ball committee. He had a thing about avoiding committees. But Anna? Anna liked donating her time to a good cause. The free publicity she got from these events wasn’t so bad either. So…she’d volunteered to help decorate this testicle-inspired shindig.
Attending single, however, had not been part of her plan.
Her fingers itched to text Drake and remind him why she was awesome and why he shouldn’t have said no when she’d offered to move to Miami with him. She’d resisted sending the text. She’d offered to move to Miami, but when he said no, she broke everything off. Her heart had invested in him. In them. She didn’t want to be a cupcake—a part-time, sometimes girlfriend. No, she wanted to be the whole cake.
She’d cancelled her availability to serve as his perpetual Denver fling.
They’d both made their choices. In the end, those choices guaranteed they wouldn’t be a couple. Those choices made her heart ache.
Instead of texting him, she unlocked her phone, tapped on her preferred dating app, and re-activated her profile.
Boom. Done.
