Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
I blink several times. “Did Joe know you hated baseball?”
“Yes, but he married me anyway. That’s why I’m hoping you can still be my friend.”
After another long pause, I nod. “I play the piano. Do you play an instrument?”
“No.”
I frown. “I’ve never been to a ballet. But I’d go with you because that’s what friends do.”
Her smile doubles in a matter of a second. “I’ll get us tickets. Do you want to take the girls, or is it just a friend’s night out?”
“Depends if I have Reagan.”
“Okay. I’m going to just get two tickets and a sitter for Nora.”
I have a moment. It’s the first real moment I’ve had in the weeks that I’ve been friends with Layla. We’ve been a foursome except for morning coffee, which was rushed because we had to get to work. The ballet feels like a date. But I’m not dating. And neither is she. So why am I hesitant?
“Is that okay?” She eyes me suspiciously.
“Um … yeah. Sounds great. Fair warning, my job is a fun spoiler, so I might cancel at the last minute or have to leave in the middle of the ballet if some asshole decides to kill someone.”
“Got it.” Again, she winks.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“You look mighty handsome,” Mom says on our FaceTime call while I tie a red tie that I never wear to work. Still … black suit. “Thought you said it’s not a date.”
“It’s not. But I think I should wear a suit to the ballet.”
“The ballet? That’s where you’re going? Colten, I think that’s a date. Bowling is something friends do. The ballet is romantic.”
I narrow my eyes at the screen. “It is? Why?”
“For starters, you’re in a suit. That in and of itself says romance.”
“I wear suits for work.”
“But has this woman seen you in a suit?”
“Yes. We had coffee before work one morning, and I was wearing a suit.”
“Fine. Then let’s move on to the music. It’s romantic.”
“Not all music is romantic. Trust me, I know a thing or two about music.”
“Are you in denial that this woman might like you more than a friend?”
I check my hair one more time. “No. The reason we’re friends is because we both lost people we loved, and we don’t have a desire to find a replacement.”
“Need I remind you that you thought Josie was a boy, and you said you were only going to be her friend until school started. Look how that turned out.”
“Yeah, look how that turned out.”
“Colten …”
“It’s not a date. Now, I have to get going so I’m not late to the ballet with my friend, Layla.”
“Layla? You didn’t tell me her name. That’s a beautiful name. Is she as pretty as her name?”
“Mom …” I frown at the phone screen.
“Just tell me you know it’s okay to feel something more than friendship for another woman. Josie would have wanted it for you.”
I sigh. “It’s funny how everyone seems to know what Josie would have wanted more than me … her best friend. Nobody knew Josie better than I knew her.”
“Fine. So you tell me. Would she have wanted you to find love again?”
“No.”
“What?” Mom sounds shocked by my answer. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying. I’m not saying she wouldn’t have said that’s what she wanted. But the one thing that seemed to have flown under everyone’s radar was how much she loved me. How much she wanted me. How much she hated every girl I ever dated. She’d want me to die a lonely man.” I lie. I lie because I don’t like the truth.
“Well, Mrs. Leach is pretty cool. I think she’s my favorite teacher. And if she can move on so quickly and remarry after losing her husband, I think you can too.”
I wanted her to believe we would never find another love like ours. We weren’t the Leaches.
“I don’t know if I believe that, Colten. She wasn’t selfish like that.”
“Well, it’s a moot point anyway. I’m not ready to date. Don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to date, but tonight I’m going to the ballet with a friend who knows what I’m going through.”
Mom nods. “I’m happy for you. Have a nice evening. I love you.”
“Love you too. Night, Mom.”
On my way to pick up Layla, it hits me … picking her up seems like a date.
It’s not a date.
There’s no turning back now. I’ve spent so much of my life with the wrong women all the while thinking about Josie. Loving her was as much a curse as it was a gift. Still, I’d do it all over again.
When I pull into Layla’s driveway, I’m a little relieved that she’s waiting for me outside. I don’t even get my car in Park before she heads straight toward the passenger door in her red dress that matches my tie. Total coincidence. Red lipstick. And her hair is in loose blond waves. She is pretty.