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“And by the time Monday comes around, you’ll be like, ‘Louis, who? Don’t know her.’”
“Oscar.”
“Trust me, okay? You need to get back on the dating horse, so I’m manifesting you a damn horse,” I vowed. “And you’re gonna ride him all weekend.”
Hugh made a noncommittal noise. “We’ll see. But what about you?” he demanded. “Are you, uh… Will you… I mean, do you think there’ll be a horse at the wedding you’re going to?”
“As a matter of fact…” I laughed, though I knew Hugh wouldn’t understand the joke. “I know there will be.”
“Oh.”
I glanced over at the conference room door in time to catch the nervous glance of my executive VP.
“We’ve been on the phone for a couple of hours,” I said gently. “I should probably let you get to sleep.”
“Oh, yeah… yeah, I guess. And I’m sure your meeting’s starting soon.”
“Mmhm. So…”
He let out a little nervous laugh. “So, I guess… I guess I’ll text you later?”
I gripped the fingers of my free hand into a tight ball and tried to keep my voice light. “Absolutely. I’ll be looking forward to horse updates all weekend too.” In much the same way I looked forward to dental work. “Get some sleep.”
“Yeah, you too. I mean, not sleep. Not in your meeting. But later. Later, get some sleep.”
I closed my eyes and let myself smile. “Will do.”
When the call ended, I stared at my phone for a little while longer. My skin felt tight and strange, ill-fitting and wrong, and the restlessness that had dogged me for months settled into my gut with a vengeance.
I was too far from home, I realized. Too far from… people I cared about.
Going to the wedding this weekend and seeing my friends would be just what I needed to ground myself. And if seeing them laugh and coo with their happily ever afters also reinforced for me why certain rules should not be broken… that was all for the best.
I stood up and dusted myself off, straightening my clothes and taking a few deep breaths to resettle into business mode.
That was what I was good at, after all.
8
HUGH
The morning sun had barely started to burn off the sunrise haze as I made my way over the Bourne Bridge. I’d gotten an obscenely early start because it was Fourth of July weekend, which meant traffic on the Cape was bound to be awful. Also, if I played my cards right, I’d have time to scope out the venue for the destination wedding I’d be helping to photograph and find some unique photo locations before the festivities began.
And, yes, okay, if I was being perfectly honest, I’d gotten on the road so early because I’d spent most of the night overthinking my accidental phone conversation with Oscar, which had made sleep spotty at best.
I’d woken up the next morning hungover and horrified. I’d quickly shot him a text, even though I assumed he’d be sleeping himself.
Hugh
I’m so, so sorry for interrupting your work day and breaking our… thing.
He responded right away.
Oscar
Don’t be sorry. It was nice to hear your voice. I’m sorry about Louis.
Before I’d been able to respond, I’d heard something crash to the floor and ran to see what had happened. Hungover Rafa had happened, and I’d spent the rest of the morning trying to get both of us recovered enough to attend to our work responsibilities.
