“Because of you?” Eleanor rests a hand against her chest, as if her delicate sensibilities can’t handle all of this shocking news.

  “His fiancée was cheating on him.” I give Eleanor and Amelia a run down, keeping it brief since everyone else at the table already knows the story. I finish my tale with, “He was also the first boy I kissed.”

  “Wait, are you serious?” Now it’s Amelia’s turn to drain her mimosa, which is very unlike her. She’s not a big drinker. “This is insane. Straight out of a Netflix movie.”

  “That’s exactly what I told her,” Stella says. “Or like a Lifetime movie.”

  “Those are the best,” Sarah chimes in. “So trashy. I can waste an entire day watching cheesy Lifetime movies.”

  “Same.” Eleanor nods enthusiastically.

  “We’re getting off track.” I’d clap my hands to get their attention, but that’s such a bitch move. “Seriously, guys. I need help here. Should I keep seeing him?”

  “Is he interested in still seeing you?” Sarah asks.

  “He texted me yesterday, throughout the day. Asking me what I was doing, telling me what he was up to. Kept the conversation going even when I didn’t respond.” I thought he was going to ask me to do something together last night, but he didn’t. Maybe he was just playing it cool.

  Maybe he’s not interested…

  “He’s interested,” Stella says, like she can read my mind. “I’m guessing this is kind of awkward for him, though. I mean, you are the one who caught his fiancée sucking face with someone else.”

  “Seriously, Stel? Sucking face?” Sarah starts to laugh, and the rest of us do too.

  “It’s super awkward for me too, for that very reason. Guys, I don’t know what to do.” Now I’m whining. I really hope our server returns with our drinks soon.

  “Tell me the story behind your first kiss with him,” Eleanor says. “I can’t get over that. So you already knew him?”

  I fill her in on that fun story too, and then I tell all of them what he said Friday night. If he hadn’t been sent away to camp, we could’ve spent the entire summer making out. “That probably would’ve been the best summer of my life,” I admit.

  “He’s so freaking gorgeous,” Stella adds.

  “And don’t forget wealthy,” says Sarah. “He’s vice president of the Wilder Corporation.”

  “Well damn. He sounds promising,” Eleanor says.

  “But he just broke it off with his psycho ex, he’s a total workaholic who claims to have control issues, and…I don’t know.” I shake my head, sighing loudly. “I look at him and remember the boy he once was, and that just makes my heart happy. But is it enough? Yes, he’s smart and ambitious and comes from money. And Stella’s right, he’s freaking gorgeous. Sexy.”

  They all get a dreamy look on their faces.

  “I just don’t know if he’s worth the trouble. The ex is a real concern. Coming into my work and threatening me, tossing stuff around, that’s not normal. What if she finds out Alex and I are seeing each other? Then she’ll really lose her shit.”

  The server is back with a fresh tray of mimosas, and we order our food. Once he’s gone, they’re ready to ask me questions. Stella’s first. “Isn’t Tiffany from West Hollywood?”

  I nod. “But I don’t think she’s gone back there. She’s been spotted around town.” Specifically by my co-worker Cassie, who texted me yesterday afternoon to let me know she saw Tiffany with another man—I’m assuming the mysterious guy from Alex’s house—at the beach in Carmel.

  I like to take walks at that specific beach at least a couple days a week. Now I’m going to have to avoid it like the plague. And that sucks.

  “Do you really like him?” Sarah asks. She’s our dreamer of the friend group. A little bit of a romantic, though she’d be horrified to hear herself described that way.

  “I think I do,” I say hesitantly. “I don’t know enough about him as an adult to answer that question fairly. But I’d like to know more.”

  “I say go for it.” Again it’s Stella, though her comment isn’t a surprise, considering she’s the bold, daring one of the group. She says what she wants, does what she wants, and damn the consequences. So far, this attitude has worked out fairly decently for her. “You have nothing to lose. Keep seeing him, see if it goes anywhere.”

  “But what about Tiffany?” I wrinkle my nose, make a disgusted face because ugh, Tiffany. I do not want to deal with her. At all.

  “If she makes an appearance or keeps harassing you guys, then end it with him. Tiffany stalking you guys all the time isn’t worth it, you know? She could ruin the relationship before it even starts,” Amelia explains. “And if that’s the case, then it wasn’t meant to be.”

  She makes it sound so very simple. And if I treat it right, it could be simple. Though I could see myself getting in over my head and falling for him quickly.

  I decide to reveal my biggest fear of all to them. “You don’t think I’m a rebound relationship for Alex?”

  “Maybe you are. Are you really going to let that hold you back?” Stella shrugs. “Maybe he’s curious to see what could happen between you two after all these years. I think you’re the one who got away, in his eyes.”

  “You really think so?” I hadn’t thought of him in a while. When I was a teen, yes, I would think about him a lot. Think about that night, how bold and unexpected his initiating the kiss was. How I wish I knew what happened to him.

  But time marches on, memories fade, and you push those sorts of things into the back of your brain. At least, that’s what I did.

  “Do you feel like he’s the one who got away?” Amelia asks.

  “Sort of…” I let my voice drift. At this very moment, I look at him like that, which is kind of ridiculous considering we didn’t have an actual relationship back then. I was twelve, almost thirteen, for the love of God. What did I know about relationships? All I wanted to do was kiss his perfect lips.

  That’s kind of all I want to do now, too, is kiss those perfect lips. See if it’s just as sweet all these years later, as it was then. I probably built the moment up in my head to this idealized situation because we all want our first kiss to be a good one, right?

  I know for a fact that Stella’s first kiss was an awkward peck at the movies, and they somehow bumped foreheads before he was able to sneak in there and actually touch her lips with his. She still cringes over that story, and since everyone at this table has heard it at one point or another, we all still cringe too.

  “I’m with Stella,” Eleanor says, her sweet voice breaking into my thoughts. “You should go for it. We only live once, you know?”

  “I know.” I enjoyed spending time with Alex. He’s easy to talk to. He’s waaaay easy on the eyes. There’s definite chemistry between us. I was so relieved he didn’t try and kiss me when he dropped me off after dinner, but then again, I was disappointed.

  “Let’s take a vote,” Sarah says, clearing her throat before she announces, “All in favor of Caroline continuing to see Alex, please raise your hands.”

  Everyone raises their hand, including myself, which makes them all laugh.

  “It’s unanimous then,” Eleanor says with a grin. “You should keep seeing him.”

  “Perfect. Now let’s hope he actually wants to continue seeing me,” I say, the sarcasm in me strong.

  There’s more laughter, and we move on to other subjects, such as Eleanor’s lack of available men in her everyday life. Being a hairstylist who is also an excellent colorist, the majority of her clients are women. She has a few men who come in for a trim, but most of them are the husbands or fathers of her female clients.

  “I’m tired of looking on dating sites,” she says. “They all either want to hook up for the night and that’s it, or they’re complete losers.”

  We all nod in agreement. Been there, done that.

  “Some of my older clients have sons my age, and they offer to set us up, but I don’t know. What if I click with one, we date for a while, and then we break up. That client will end up hating me for life,” Eleanor says.

  “Yes, but what if that son is your future husband?” Sarah asks, blinking innocently at Eleanor. “You could miss the opportunity of a lifetime.”

  “True.” Eleanor appears as if she’s seriously considering this.

  “Losing a client versus possibly finding your future husband? I say it’s worth the risk.” Sarah is Miss Romantic today for sure.

  And on it goes. Our food arrives and we stop counseling each other and moan and groan over how delicious our meals are instead. There’s a slight breeze in the air, and birds are chirping in nearby trees. Colorful spring flowers are everywhere—in pots, hanging planters, in a small arrangement in the middle of our table. Traffic is light this morning in downtown Carmel, as it normally is on a Sunday, and as I absently look around, I notice the patio seems to be filled with mostly locals, some I even recognize and know.

  My gaze lands on one person in particular, and everything inside me curls up, withering like it wants to die.

  Tiffany.

  Panic zips through me, and I’m tempted to leap from the table and run screaming out of the restaurant, but I can’t do that. Making a spectacle of myself is not the way to handle this. I’d only draw attention to myself and that is the last thing I want to do.

  Anger replaces my panic. What the hell is she even doing here? This is my place. She’s encroaching on my territory, and I don’t like it.

  She’s across the patio, at a small table on the other side, sitting at an angle where she can’t see me unless she looked behind her but, thank God, I can clearly see her. Meaning I can keep tabs on her.

  Grabbing Stella’s wrist, I tug her close so I can whisper in her ear. “I need to go.”

  Stella rears back, frowning at me. “Why?”

  I lean in to whisper again. “Tiffany’s here. Sitting on the other side of the patio.”

  “Oooh, where?” I indicate with a tilt of my head where she’s at, hoping Tiffany doesn’t notice me. Stella cranes her neck to check her out, yet somehow still manages to be stealthy about it. “You’re lucky we’re sitting behind her,” Stella says.

  “She’ll spot me eventually. She has a sixth sense when it comes to me.” I glance in Tiffany’s direction once again, finally noticing who she’s sitting with. The same guy I saw her with in Alex’s house that fateful afternoon. “I have to go, and I don’t want to make a big deal about this either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to leave.”

  “No way.” Stella grabs me this time, her hand gentle on my arm. “Don’t let her drive you out of here. Don’t give her that power!”

  “I don’t want any drama, Stel. And that chick is chock full of it.” I smile at her, patting her hand with my own. “I’ll just slip out, okay? Tell the girls after I’m gone, and we won’t make a big deal about it. That way, no one is screaming bye at me and catching Tiffany’s attention.” That is the very last thing I want to do.

  “Fine.” Stella rolls her eyes and ducks beneath the table, grabbing my purse for me. “Sneak out. The minute you’re gone, I’ll tell them what’s up.”

  I take my bag from her. “I’ll pay you back for breakfast when you get home.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Stella waves her hands and I rise to my feet, thankful they’re all focused on Sarah, who’s telling stories about her weird customers. None of them even notice when I leave.

  I’m exiting the restaurant, ready to head up Ocean Avenue, back to my apartment, when I hear someone call my name. Glancing over my shoulder, I spot—OMG—Tiffany standing in front of the restaurant, her arms crossed, her stance downright hostile.

  Saying nothing, I face forward and pick up my pace, heading into a home goods store that’s on the nearest corner of the street. I know most everyone who works there, and today the owner’s daughter is standing behind the cash register, a pleasant smile on her face.

  “Caroline! You look pretty this morning,” Mary says in greeting.

  “Hi. Thanks,” I say weakly, skirting around a giant farm table laden with merchandise. I tuck myself into the corner on the left side of the giant window that faces the street, peeking outside so I can keep watch when Tiffany walks by.

  And thankfully, she does walk by within a couple of minutes of me hiding inside the store, oblivious as to where I’m at. She pauses at the open front doors, waiting for a second, and my heart trips over itself, it’s hammering so hard.

  If she walks in here, she’ll spot me. And I’ll have nowhere to go.

  Someone was smiling down upon me today, because she keeps walking, crossing the street and disappearing from view.

  “Are you okay?” I turn to find Mary watching me, a frown marring her fine features. “Seems like you’re hiding out,” she continues.

  “I’m okay,” I say, smiling brightly. Too brightly. The relief that washes over me is heady stuff, and I swear I’m a little dizzy. I blink Mary into focus, my mind scrambling to come up with a reason when I slipped in here. “Just—there was something I wanted to grab, but I can’t find it.”

  The frown disappears, replaced by a helpful smile. “What exactly are you looking for?”

  “That French soap you guys always carry. I want to get it for a Mother’s Day present.” I wince the moment the lie falls from my lips. I only ever send my mom a card for Mother’s Day every year. She definitely doesn’t get a gift.

  The woman doesn’t deserve one.

  “Oh, we just moved the soaps upstairs. Come on, I’ll take you up.”

  I follow her, thankful for the distraction, annoyed with myself that I have to buy some useless yet expensive French soap.

  Nervous that Tiffany actually came after me.

  Twenty

  Alex

  Sunday dinner at my parents’ house usually plays out like this:

  My sister Meredith shows up earlier than scheduled with her husband Kevin and their two-year-old twins, Hildy and Harry. Our younger brother James, who’s twenty-three loves to play with them, and they love Uncle James because he will do whatever it takes to make them laugh.

  Whatever it takes.

  This usually means lots of loud noises, chasing through the house, and peekaboo games. My father grimly tolerates it. My mother exclaims a lot—watch out for this and that—always afraid something is going to get broken, which has happened once or twice. James is having the time of his life, as are the twins.

  Meredith uses the hours-long chaos to claim the children are exhausted and they need to go to bed early. This means they are out of the house by six o’clock at the latest. Dinner has barely been served—Sunday dinner is typically around five. By the time Meredith and family are gone, James is also exhausted, and he retires to his bedroom, usually around seven, and that’s pushing it.

  This means I’m the one who’s left to chat up the parents by myself.

  In other words, it’s a type of semi-hell that I suffer through maybe twice a month. Once, if I’m lucky.

  Tonight’s dinner was no exception. The twins are especially loud, Hildy screaming with joy at the top of her longs every time Uncle James scares her. Father has retreated to his study, where he claims to be working, but we all know he’s avoiding us. Mother is supervising staff in the kitchen—otherwise known as hiding out and having a giant glass of wine to calm her frazzled nerves.

  Kevin couldn’t make it to dinner since he’s out of town. He also works for Wilder Corporation and is currently supervising a renovation in Beverly Hills, which spilled into the weekend, much to Meredith’s irritation.

  My sister and I are in the sitting room, enjoying a glass of wine while we wait for dinner. All Meredith wants to talk about is Tiffany and how she’s so glad I broke it off with her. I’m tired of talking about Tiffany. I don’t want to think about her anymore. It was a huge mistake I don’t particularly care to revisit over and over again, so I try my best to reroute the conversation.

  “How’s it been this weekend, without Kevin around?” Kevin is Meredith’s relief during the weekends. Having him around makes her feel less like a single mom, which is a common complaint she’s had these last few months.

  “Him not coming home Friday night was the last straw. I finally hired a live-in nanny,” Meredith confesses. “I tried my best to do this on my own, to only use the babysitter and no one else, but with Kevin not around much, it only got harder. So I did what I had to do. The children love her, and so do I.”

  “Good for you.” Meredith takes everything upon her shoulders and rarely asks for help. It’s one of her best, and worst, traits. “So I’m guessing she works weekends.”

  “She does, and she’s marvelous. You’ll have to come over sometime and meet her. She’s also young, and very attractive.” Meredith laughs, but I don’t.

  “I have no interest in dating your nanny,” I say bitterly.

  Her laughter dies. “Oh, lighten up. I was just joking. Heaven forbid you get involved with the help.”

  “Now you make me sound like a classist asshole. Her being your nanny has nothing to do with it. I don’t want to date anyone right now.” Well, that’s an outright lie.

  I am interested in Caroline.

  But I’m definitely not interested in dating someone who’s linked to my family. If I dated the attractive nanny and then it didn’t work out, where would that leave me? Screwed yet again.

  I’m tired of making shit choices when it comes to my personal relationships. This is a hard fact to face, but that’s my reality. When it comes to women, I have terrible judgment. I’m either blinded by a pretty face or too distracted by work to give a woman the attention she craves. I’m still young, I firmly believe I don’t necessarily have to find a woman to share my life with, but with Caroline in the picture, I’m rethinking everything.

  As much as I’m loath to admit it, Caroline has the potential to have that much power over me.

  “I’m still so relieved you ended it with Tiffany. I knew she wouldn’t be faithful to you,” Meredith practically crows. How she could tell Tiffany had cheating potential, I’m not sure, but whatever.