Page 38 of Love in the Time of Conversation Hearts

“Well, yes,” Dorothy says carefully. “But was it established that you two would be going together before he volunteered?”

I wrack my brain, replaying the conversation in my office before Sturge so rudely interrupted. I had thought Adam was going to disclose our relationship. But had we decided anything?

“I’m not sure,” I admit. “But it was definitely headed in that direction,” I justify quickly.

“Maybe he was doing it because he knows how much this event means to you.” Aubrey sighs and her eyes go all heart-shaped. “Which would be really sweet, don’t you think?”

Dammit. Maybe he was. And that would be really sweet, too.

But I’m still angry, because no matter how they want to slice it, it’s definitely something we should have talked about given all the signals he was firing off that suggested he wanted more than just a couple of nights together.

I turn to face Lauren. Surely, if anyone is going to back me up, it’ll be my oldest, dearest, and best friend.

As if she can read my mind, she winces apologetically. “Sorry, Cora. I’m with the others on this one. It really doesn’t seem like he did anything malicious and was only trying to help. Which is cute.”

Traitor.

“Is this really about the date auction?” Charlie asks skeptically. “Doesn’t seem like something our fearless leader would be all torn up about.”

I chew on my lip, thinking for a second. “Partly,” I say slowly. It also seems criminally unfair that I was actually loosening up. Taking a chance. Not to mention how much I liked that version of me. But I’m not sure I’m ready to admit that out loud. “You’re right,” I say instead. “What really bothered me was that he was so close to declaring something about us, and he pulled the rug out from under my feet at the last minute.”

Charlie purses her lips and nods. Just when I think she’s going to say something understanding and compassionate, she says, “Ahh. Wounded pride. That makes more sense.”

I grumble and shift uncomfortably in my seat, mentally taking back every kind thing I just thought about these women. “I guess there’s nothing I can do about it now, either way. Someone is going to bid on him, and he’ll have to take her out, and I’ll have to wait until the whole ordeal is over to see him again.” That is, if he doesn’t fall in love with this other woman in the process. The very thought of it causes an ache to settle itself in my chest. I rub at it to try to soothe the pain, but no luck.

Everyone in the room eyes each other again. I hate when they do that. I never like what they say afterwards.

“Why don’t you bid on him?” Aubrey asks.

I scoff. “I can’t do that. For one, I don’t have the money.”

Charlie scrunches her face up in disbelief. “You’re single. You have a good job. And I know for a fact Harrison has been paying you rent. The most anyone has ever gone for at one of these things is, what, seven hundred? You’re telling me you don’t have seven hundred dollars to spend for the good of the city?”

When she puts it that way, it doesn’t seem so bad. But that’s not the only issue. “I can’t just publicly declare my interest in him at a town event,” I say incredulously. “What would people think?”

“Probably that you’re two consenting adults who want to spend time together,” Lauren says.

“People don’t care about this stuff as much as you think,” Dorothy chimes in.

“Says the woman who was spreading rumors about my sex life,” I mutter. She shrugs as if that’s a fair assessment.

Aubrey shifts so she’s kneeling, barely able to contain her bubbling energy. “I think you should do it.” She bounces up and down and clasps her hands in front of her chest. “It would be so romantic.”

I glance at everyone, their eyes trained on me. They all want me to bid on Adam, that much is clear. But it’s also clear that they don’t want me to do this for the drama. They want me to be happy, and this is a way to do that.

Would it be so bad? After all, I wanted him to acknowledge our relationship publicly this morning. What’s the difference, really?

I hum noncommittally. “I’ll think about it,” I say quietly. Before their smiles can stretch too far across their faces, I click my pen and pick up my trusty clipboard from where it had been sitting on the table. “Now, can we please finalize these plans? No one will be bidding on anyone if the fundraiser falls apart before it can even get started.”

Aubrey rocks backward with a grimace. “Is now a bad time to mention there’s been a strep outbreak at school?”

“Is there anyone left to perform?” Lauren asks.

Aubrey shakes her head. “Not unless you want me to pretend to be a preschooler.”

I draw a thick line across the first page. “Canceling the children’s pageant.”

Charlie and Dorothy each rest a hand on Aubrey’s shoulders while Lauren gets up to refill our wine. We’re going to need it.