“You were,” I agreed, tipping back the beer. “Total asshole. You know how you could make it up to me?”
“Tickets to the premiere?” he offered.
“I was gonna say cheese biscuits, but sure, throw in tickets to the premiere. Two,” I said pointedly.
He clutched his chest in mock pain. “You won’t be my date? I’m heartbroken.” He raised his eyebrows in hope. “And forgiven?” He looped an arm around my shoulders and waited for my answer.
“And forgiven,” I affirmed, smiling when he pulled me to his chest. “Now, get me cheese biscuits before I change my mind,” I threatened.
“Yes, ma’am.” He lifted a chin to Hannah. “You coming?”
“Oh no,” she said. “I plan on getting some one-on-one time with my new lover.” She patted the side of the Balenciaga.
“Enjoy it,” I said, waving at her as Joey dragged me to the door. “Courtesy of Victor Worth.”
She laughed. “I’m an equal-opportunity slut, I’ll take gifts from anyone. Feel free to send that Maserati my way!” she hollered, the words catching me right as Joey tossed my beer in the trash and shut the door.
The Maserati. I wondered what happened to it. I’d signed the title over and left it in the glove box. Had overnighted Vic the keys. And a few days later, it was gone.
“I’m gonna miss you,” Joey mused, reaching out to tug on the end of my ponytail.
“I’m gonna miss this place.” I held up my fingers an inch apart. “Just a bit.”
“And me?”
I scrunched up my face. “A little.”
He stopped at the back of the catering line, pushing his hands into the front of his pockets and looking at me, all hints of teasing gone. “I really was an asshole, pushing you to date Vic. Carter … I can see you guys together. You’re a cool girl. He’s got his shit together—always did.”
I grinned at him. “So, you approve?”
He laughed. “Yeah. You have the Joey Plazen blessing of approval. It’s kinda a big deal.”
“Thank God,” I breathed. “I can go to sleep happy.” The line moved, and we stepped up to the window. I placed my order, almost groaning with pleasure when I got the cardboard box of mini biscuits, steam rising out, the smell almost as good as the taste. Joey walked me all the way out, promising to call Carter and see me soon. I waved to Fred and stepped out the gate.
And just like that, my time at Boston Love Letters was done.
When I was little, my mom told me you should find a man who loved you more than you loved him. That way, she explained, you would never get hurt. In theory, it made sense. But now, I believed half of the beauty of love was in the loving.
I didn’t want to be the aloof woman who had a boyfriend wrapped around her finger. I wanted to be terrified of how madly-in-love I was, ready to give up everything for him, for us.
And finally, I was.
I packed boxes, and he carried them. Half of my life had been moved up one floor and into his apartment. I wanted to finish. Had set aside the entire evening. The girls offered to help, but I wanted, before I merged my life with Carter, the time to myself. He’d be busy anyway, a dinner date set with his mother. Apparently her private investigator had finished his report and she wanted to “go over it” with him. I eyed him from my spot on the living room floor, his arms above his head as he pushed a new air filter in place. “What time’s dinner?” I asked.
“Seven.” He got it in and stepped off the toolbox, moving closer to me as he wiped his hands off on his pants. “I can bring you back a plate.”
“Nah.” I busied myself with my DVDs, flipping through five seasons of Friends and wondering if I would actually watch them again. “I’ve got a frozen pizza I can heat up.”
“You seem stressed about my dinner.” He stopped in front of me, and I set down the DVDs, looking up at him.
“Aren’t you?” He seemed ridiculously calm. Annoyingly so.
“Her decision doesn’t matter.” He crouched before me so that we were eye level. “It’s not going to affect us.”
“Oh yeah.” I snorted. “What’s financial security?” I shrugged. “You don’t need that.”
“I’d rather have you.”
I shook my head and pulled a stack of novels off the shelf. “You say that Carter but … you don’t know. I know what a sacrifice that