The Designated +1

by Ellie Cahill

I laughed. We reached the RV, but Will kept walking until we were at my car. “You’re going to be sore tomorrow,” he warned me.

  “Nah.” I shrugged. “Like I said, I can walk seven dogs at once.”

  “Your resumé must be awesome.”

  “Oh yeah. I’ve got that sweet, sweet degree in graphic design I don’t use and then it’s all just Special Skills: walking seven dogs at once, picking up poop one-handed…getting sunburned in under ten minutes.” I huffed on my nails and buffed them against my shirt. “I mean, I’m a hot prospect.”

  “Up top for useless college degrees.” Will put one hand up for a very high five, and I had to jump to slap his palm.

  “What did you major in anyway?” I asked.

  “Business Economics.”

  “Oh. Shit.” I never would have guessed.

  “My dad wanted me to have a background in business for when James and I take over Brady Construction,” he explained. “But I didn’t feel like enough of a psychopath for real business school, so I switched to Biz Econ.” I must have looked confused. “You know how a lot of CEOs actually have a lot of the same personality traits as psychopaths?”

  “I think I heard something about that.”

  “Well, first they go to business school. I didn’t fit in.”

  “I don’t know, you’ve always struck me as pretty sick in the head.”

  He grinned. “That’s different. I’m talking about people who wear suits to work.”

  I shuddered. “The horror.”

  “They don’t know what to do with someone who works with their hands.”

  “I know what you mean.” Neither of my parents could comprehend how I could possibly be satisfied with my dog work. They were nice enough about it, but they both made sure to tell me every time they saw a job listing for graphic design. Trouble was, most of them were looking for experienced people. And those that weren’t paid next to nothing. Sure I sort of wished I could use my design skills, but it wasn’t dog money. In my deepest, secretest thoughts, I really wished I’d skipped college and spent four more years earning the dog money. I’d have so much less debt and so much more savings. I’d probably have my own house.

  Will suddenly grinned. “I bet my dad regrets putting me on a crew back in high school. He thought I’d realize how much better it was to be the owner. Didn’t think I’d prefer the hard work.”

  I wanted to ask about James. Did he work on a crew like Will? Did he prefer the physical work over the management? But I also didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to care what his brother was doing these days. I’d spent years carefully making sure not to show any interest in my former crush. I didn’t want to give him the mental space.

  Of course wanting something and achieving it are different.

  “Is James the same way?” Damn it, Hadley.

  Will squinted, and shifted his gaze to a spot above my shoulder. “Nah. James is just like my dad. He’s got the head for business. He likes the operations part.”

  “Sounds like it worked out perfectly,” I said. “One of you is about the business, the other leads a work crew. What more could a dad want?”

  “Running the company has become more than a one-man job. Right now, he and James are barely surviving as it is. They could use more help in the office. And my dad wants to retire.” Will shrugged.

  “So…what does that mean for you?”

  He didn’t answer at first, though his mouth opened and shut a couple times as if he meant to speak. Finally he brought his eyes back to mine. “I don’t know.”

  I wanted to ask more. What did James have to say about this? Were they going to make him go into managing the business instead of working on the projects? Why couldn’t they just hire someone else? What was the point of him fixing this house? Was it just a hobby? I wanted to know everything and somehow figure out a magic solution that would make everyone happy. But what would that even look like?

  But I knew it wasn’t my place. So I took the easy way out. I went with a joke. “You could always quit everything and start dog-sitting. It’s a pretty sweet gig.”

  He laughed. “Tempting.”

  “Ooh, you could build dog houses! Super nice ones! You could have your own show on the DIY channel or something. Like all those tiny house shows, but for dogs!”

  “That might be the whitest thing anyone’s ever said.”

  I blushed, but he was right. “Fair. But people would go for it. You know they would.”

  “Austin might. I don’t know about the rest of Texas.”

  “You’d have to move to Portland or something.”

  “Nah.” Will used one pointed finger to tip up an imaginary cowboy hat. “I don’t aim to leave Texas, ma’am.”

  I rolled my eyes. Everyone I knew owned a cowboy hat. It was practically a law for Texans. But Will had never been the type to wear his around. He wasn’t a cowboy. A construction worker, sure. But not a cowboy.

  “All right, Cool Hand Will. I’m starving. I better get out of here.”

  “Come back anytime, little lady.” He hitched up his shorts, leaving his hands propped on his belt.

  Although he was playing a character, I gave a sincere answer. “If you want me, I’ll come back whenever I can.”

  His hands dropped from his belt and he gave me a half-smile I recognized as the real Will. “Thanks, HB.”

  17

  Public Humiliation on the Rocks

  Anna Kelly’s wedding was as Irish as anything I’d ever seen outside St. Patrick’s Day. The groom wore a kilt, the ceremony music was played on a fiddle, and the bridesmaids wore green. More than one person commented on my red hair, telling me I fit right in.

  I wanted to tell them there were more redheads in Scotland, thank you very much—redheads know facts about red hair, and we are not afraid to use them. And furthermore, I wasn’t even Irish. And neither were kilts! But I did the polite thing and laughed and smiled instead.

  Anna and I had grown up together, along with the Bradys, Maddie Weiss, and Mike Radnor just to name a few. So the wedding guests were a familiar group. Lots of neighbors and other childhood friends. My own parents were there, as were the Bradys. And although Will and I were seated at the Singles Table, there were a few other familiar faces. It was more like a reunion than the usual social nightmare that is a table full of people without dates at a wedding.

  Still, Will and I were committed to being each others’ +1 for the night. We chose seats next to each other and spent the cocktail hour taking turns getting drinks. No handholding this time, and as far as I knew, Will hadn’t told anyone we’d slept together. It felt like being there with a friend. Exactly the sort of evening you’d expect with someone you’d contracted to be your platonic +1. It was nice.

  Except for James, it could have been a perfectly nice evening.

  James Brady and his fiancée were at the wedding.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course they were invited. James knew Anna and the Kelly family as well as I did. But he knew Maddie too, and he hadn’t been at her wedding. I’d just kind of assumed he wouldn’t be at this one.

  No such luck. I spotted him at the ceremony. A few rows ahead of me. It had been years since I saw him, and still I could recognize him by the back of his head.

  Pathetic.

  Worst of all, he looked good. I’d tried to convince myself over the years that he hadn’t been all that. That it was only because I was young and inexperienced that I’d thought he was so good looking. But, no. He still was. There was a resemblance to Will, but no more than a basic one. Something about the mouth. But where Will had dirty blond hair, James was dark, with clean-shaven cheeks, and a more groomed, put-together air. He was the kind of man that suits were grateful to be on. He looked like a J. Crew model. Or James Bond.

  And his eyes. The most perfect shade of sapphire blue, surrounded by thick lashes.

  Why did he have to be here?

  Of course his fiancée was stunning. Tall with blonde hair and blu
e eyes, and pretty white teeth. No freckles. No scab on her forehead.

  Will introduced me to her at the cocktail hour.

  “It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled, and damn it, it was a genuine smile. “I can’t believe how many people from your neighborhood are here! I thought that kind of thing didn’t happen anymore.”

  “Yeah, we were pretty lucky,” I said.

  “It’s incredible. When we were making our guest list, I was getting so mad at James!” She laughed. “I kept saying, no one invites their neighbors to their wedding!”

  And at that moment, the man in question slid up next to his bride-to-be. When he saw me, he did a double-take.

  “Hadley Bradley?”

  Of course he’d say it. I forced a smile. “In the flesh.”

  “Wow. The last time I saw you was…”

  Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it.

  “I can’t even remember,” he finished, seeming surprised by his own answer. “Man, you grew up.”

  “It happens,” I said, suddenly self-conscious in a way I hadn’t been in years.

  “Yeah, but…wow, you look so different.” He gave me a sweep with his eyes. “What happened here?”

  His finger was on my face. James Brady was touching me. On the face. The last time he touched me was to pat me on the head and call me a cute kid and now he was tenderly brushing his fingertip across the big scab above my eyebrow.

  “Flying debris,” Will said vaguely, laughing.

  Heat rushed into my cheeks.

  James looked at his brother with eyebrows raised. “Sounds like a story.”

  I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”

  Will muttered, “It’s hilarious.”

  Sara was the one to save me, asking if I lived in Austin or if I’d had to come back for the wedding. I seized on the question, grateful for any new subject besides the toilet-related injury on my face. We talked about the usual stuff, where we all lived, what we did for a living, and how the wedding plans were going. When I said I’d graduated in January, James seemed confused.

  “Did you finish early?” he asked.

  “Yeah, a little. I had a bunch of credits from AP and IB classes in high school.”

  He shook his head. “Aren’t you, like, twenty?”

  “Twenty-two,” I said slowly. Where was he going with this?

  “No.” He was in disbelief. “You were, like, a little kid the last time I saw you.”

  “I was eighteen,” I said.

  “No way.” He held a level hand a few inches lower than the top of my head. “You were like, this big. You had to be, what? Thirteen?”

  “Dude, she’s four years younger than you,” Will said with the irritation that only a brother can muster. “Remember? She and I were in high school together for a couple years.”

  “I was eighteen,” I insisted. “It was at your graduation party when you finished at A&M. I finished high school the same year.” Why am I reminding him of this? I should shut my stupid mouth.

  “Huh.” James still seemed like he didn’t believe me. His dark blue eyes drifted up in thought. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. “That’s right. I remember that night.” He laughed, and looked at his beautiful fiancée, and said in a conspiratorial tone, “She had the biggest crush on me.”

  Oh fuck.

  “Oh James, don’t be such an egomaniac,” Sara chided with a gentle laugh. “You think everyone had a crush on you.”

  “She did!” he insisted, then looked at me. “Tell her.”

  Oh no. Oh please no. Please god, let the earth open up and swallow me whole. Please let lightning strike me dead. Let a UFO come down and abduct me.

  “I, uh…” The heat in my face could have set the building in flames. My eyes stung like I’d gotten bug spray in them. My throat was tight as I squeaked, “I don’t remember.”

  Sara rolled her eyes. “Leave the poor girl alone.”

  “What?” he protested.

  She curled her hand around his bicep and gave him a tug that wasn’t subtle. “Come on, I want to get a drink before we’re seated.” She gave me a little smile. “Nice meeting you, Hadley.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I whispered.

  “Hadley,” Will said, touching my elbow.

  “Excuse me.” I couldn’t even look at him. I just rushed off blindly, desperate to get to somewhere private. There was a bathroom up ahead and I shoved my way inside, pushing on the stall doors until I found one that opened and slammed it closed behind me.

  The tears that made my eyes burn were so close to spilling out. I leaned against the door and tilted my head up, hoping gravity would keep them in. I took a deep breath, exhaling in an uneven, wobbly way.

  “Don’t do this,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

  That had been my philosophy for four years. I’d offered James my heart and he’d all but laughed at me. I’d promised myself that I would never let anyone have the opportunity to stomp all over my heart again. If I fell for someone, I was going to make damn sure they were just as in love with me before I said a word.

  Yet here I was, locked in a bathroom trying not to cry over James Brady. Again. It was like no time had passed and I was 18. And as a bonus, I was going to see most of the people who were at James’s graduation party for years ago. How could this night get any better?

  Maybe I could just go home. Would anyone notice if I slipped out the door? I could send a text to my mom and tell her I got food poisoning. Who would argue with food poisoning?

  I took a couple more steadying breaths and exited the stall. My reflection in the mirror showed a blotchy face with eyes that shone in the watery, almost-crying way. It would be a hell of a show for the food poisoning case. Maybe I should just find my mom real quick and let my face be the evidence.

  Yes. That was a good plan.

  A good plan that lasted all of thirty seconds. Because just outside the bathroom door, I found Will leaning against the wall.

  18

  Bad Kisses and Mandatory Fun

  “You okay?” he asked.

  This called for some serious false bravado. “Fine. Why?”

  “You ran off.”

  “Had to pee,” I lied.

  He nodded slowly. “Is that what we’re going with?”

  My jaw tightened. “Yes.”

  “Okay. Had to pee it is.” He pushed off the wall. “Want another drink?”

  “Actually…I’m not feeling all that well…” I hedged. “I think maybe I should go home.”

  “Bullshit,” he said. “What are you drinking?”

  “No, really. I feel a little nauseous. I think it might be food poisoning.” No time like the present to start digging into this lie.

  “You’re so full of shit. Come on.”

  “I’m not full of shit!” I protested. “I think I ate some bad…” I tried to remember what I’d had for lunch.

  “Bullshit,” Will said in a sing-song, putting his hand lightly on my lower back to guide me back toward the bar.

  “I really don’t feel well!” I stopped short of stamping my foot, but what was the point? He had to hear the tantrum in my voice.

  “That wouldn’t have anything to do with my brother would it?”

  “No!” I said, knowing it was a little too sharp.

  “Uh huh.” The pressure of his hand increased slightly, but I stood firm. There were people around the bar, and I didn’t want them to overhear me.

  “Why would you even think this has anything to do with James?”

  Will took his hand off my back and crossed his arms, looking at me with disbelief. “He embarrassed you.”

  “No he didn’t.”

  “Man, you’re full of shit tonight. More than usual. Maybe you should have that checked out.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “So he thinks you had a crush on him. He thinks everyone had a crush on him.” Now he leaned in and whispered, “He’s kind of an asshole that way.”<
br />
  “He’s not an asshole,” I said.

  Will laughed. “Oh Christ, Hadley. My brother has a lot of good qualities, but trust me. He’s an asshole.”

  I didn’t answer, but the heat in my cheeks assured me I was as red-faced as a cartoon eating spicy food.

  “Who gives a shit anyway?” he went on. “You were a kid.”

  Self-preservation told me not to point out that I was, in fact, a legal adult when I’d admitted my feelings for James. It was bad enough that Will had just learned my secret. He never ever needed to know about the night of the graduation party. No one did.

  He had a point though. If I was serious about not letting my ego get crushed again, how could I in good conscience leave tonight? How could I let James have that kind of effect on me?

  “Fine,” I said. “But I am definitely going to take you up on that drink.”

  “Rum and coke, right?”

  I shook my head. “That’s just my panic drink.”

  “Panic drink?”

  “The thing you order when you haven’t thought of what you want and the bartender looks at you.”

  “You mean beer?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Never mind. I’ll have a martini. Extra dirty, extra olives.”

  “I’m on it.”

  We got called into dinner shortly after that, but Will made sure to grab us a final round of drinks before they shut down the bar. So I was two martinis and a glass of champagne into the evening by the time the toasts were over. That much vodka definitely made the toasts go by faster, I can tell you that.

  Dinner was served and I was feeling no pain. It was a good thing I had food to buffer my stomach or my food poisoning story might not have seemed like such a lie after all.

  Finally the dancing began. When everyone was called to the floor, Will stood up and offered me his hand, as he’d done at all the weddings. For the barest second, I found myself looking across the room to the table where James and Sara were seated. I wanted to gauge my chances of bumping into them out on the dance floor. But I caught myself, and I deliberately turned my attention back to Will.