Three Little Words

by Jenny Holiday

  “Or was working, until you broke up with him on the beach,” Jane said.

  “I didn’t break up with him. We were never together.”

  “That’s not what it seemed like when you—”

  “Whoa, whoa, wait.” Elise lifted her palms. “Back up. Forget Bennett for a minute. How long has this been going on?”

  Gia wasn’t sure she could forget Bennett for a minute. That was the problem.

  “You’ve always said how you have the metabolism of a volcano,” Elise said when Gia didn’t answer her question.

  “You’re always eating tons of…” Jane couldn’t seem to finish the sentence.

  Wendy inserted herself into the space left as Jane trailed off. “Not lately, though. Not since at least Elise’s wedding. Have you seen her eat anything of substance lately?”

  “Oh my God,” Elise breathed. “How did I not notice this?”

  Gia ground her teeth, annoyed. Now she was going to have to make Elise feel better? “Look, this isn’t some after-school special. I’m not anorexic.”

  Right? She honestly didn’t think she was. She had never had that tendency before. You didn’t just become anorexic, did you? She had a problem with food. That’s how she thought of it, when she forced herself to confront it.

  “Then what are you?” Wendy said.

  Geez. Gia usually appreciated Wendy’s “take no prisoners and also no bullshit” attitude, but having it turned on you was harrowing. She could see why Wendy was such a good litigator. It was easier to just tell her the truth, if only to get her off your back.

  So she did. “I’m desperate to not have to quit my job, and my metabolism isn’t what it used to be—no more volcanoes.”

  That shut Wendy up. That shut everyone up. Gia smirked. Not that she was happy, but there was an absurd relief in having it out there.

  They talked then. For a long time. She told them about the too-small dress and about how stuff like that had been happening more and more lately. They were incredulous—civilians always were about her industry, no matter how close to her they were—but ultimately they accepted her anxieties as legitimate. The more they talked, the better Gia felt. Why had she kept this from them for so long?

  “I think you should quit,” Elise finally said, after several minutes of insisting that the industry had never appreciated Gia as much as was warranted.

  Gia smiled. “I appreciate the loyalty, hon, but what the hell else would I do? That’s exactly the problem. I can’t quit. I don’t want to just stop working at age thirty.”

  “Really?” Jane joked. “Sounds like the dream.”

  She looked around at her three talented, professionally accomplished, ambitious friends. Unlike her, they had skills. Educations. “Come on. Can any of you honestly tell me that if you had a choice, you’d just hang it up right now? Retire?” Maybe most people would, but not this crew. When no one answered, she said, “See? And since I have no other skills or qualities I can fall back on to transition into another career, I’m stuck.”

  “Hang on now,” Elise said. “I didn’t know you back in your pageant days, but to hear it told, you always aced the interview.”

  “Right?” Jane said. “Your mom is always telling that story about the time a judge asked you about world peace and you said world peace was not the point, that even if violence could be magically eradicated, personal suffering would endure.”

  Gia smiled weakly. “I probably read that in a magazine.”

  “The point is,” Elise said, ignoring Gia’s attempt to downplay the anecdote, “that even in the pageant circuit, where beauty is paramount, you were routinely recognized for other qualities.”

  Was that…true? She did have a big storage bin full of Miss Congeniality trophies at home.

  “I’ve always thought you should get an MBA,” Wendy said, and once again, she might as well have been brandishing a weapon, given the force with which that pronouncement shocked Gia. It was a pretty big leap from Miss Congeniality to an MBA.

  “What?”

  “You’re smart. You think strategically. You haven’t wanted to be involved in the business side of modeling, in lifestyle or whatever, but you have a good head on your shoulders and an eye for style. You could parlay that into a lot of different things, things you wouldn’t necessarily need to be the face of.”

  “I can’t get an MBA without a BA,” Gia offered, as if that were her only objection.

  “So get a BA,” Elise said. “Go back to school, and I can say, ‘I told you so’ about my advice back in the day! I told you you’d regret quitting!”

  “Or skip the school thing altogether and just do the job thing,” Jane said. “I mean, I agree—business would be a great fit, but why do all that school? You’re smart and rich and well connected. You’ll be able to make your own opportunities.”

  Gia was aware that she was gaping at everyone. It was just so weird, to hear them talking about her like this. Calmly assessing her qualities like employment counselors. But the really shocking part was that they weren’t employment counselors. They were her best friends. They knew her. And they still thought she could viably do something besides modeling?

  “I guess the real question,” Wendy said, drilling down to the heart of the matter in her usual Wendy way, “is do you want to keep modeling? Because we can talk till we’re blue in the face about what else you’re suited for, but if you don’t want to stop, or if you don’t want to at least stop the kind of jobs you’re doing, then this problem isn’t going to go away. So to my mind, that’s the real question. Do you want to keep modeling?”

  No.

  The answer welled up in her, as clear as it was shocking. She’d spent her whole life modeling and now she was just…done.

  “I don’t know.”

  Why the lie? Because she couldn’t quite cop to the truth. Because the truth didn’t change anything elementally, didn’t magically bestow other skills upon her. Didn’t make her qualified to do anything else.

  “Well, I guess that’s fair enough, but maybe you should think about it,” Wendy said.

  “I will,” Gia promised. “But can we please talk about something else now?” She was exhausted.

  “We sure can,” Elise said with overly theatrical enthusiasm. “Let’s talk about Bennett. Let’s talk about this ‘I eat when he cooks for me’ business.”

  “I’m not really sure that counts as something else, because—”

  Elise ignored her protest and kept talking. “All in favor of talking about Bennett, raise your hand.”

  Everyone’s hand—except Gia’s, of course—shot up.

  Elise smirked. “Motion carries.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  ONE DAY BEFORE THE WEDDING

  Bennett mentally rehearsed an apology speech while he chopped dill.

  It wasn’t going well.

  I’m sorry I made you hold my hand?

  I’m sorry I like you?

  He was having trouble crafting a credible apology because he didn’t think he should have to apologize. He was sorry for causing Gia pain. Watching her run off last night, hurt because of things he had said, had gutted him. But the tricky part was that he meant what he’d said, even if he hadn’t said it in the most diplomatic way.

  He and Gia did have some kind of a relationship, no matter how much the prospect freaked her out. He hadn’t thought about it like that until he’d verbalized it, until they’d been fighting—but he stood by the content of everything he’d said. He and Gia had something great, and it wasn’t just the sex—though that was beyond great.

  He wanted to be with her. He was, to his utter shock, all in. In a way he never had been before, with any other woman.

  Even worse? He would take what he could get. Yes, he wished they were on the same page, but he was so far gone that he would accept whatever label—or lack of a label—she wanted to slap on it.

  So basically he needed to find a way to say: I’m sorry I pushed you too far. It’s because I’
m in love with you but I know that freaks you out so I won’t say it anymore and we can just go back to baring our souls and having bone-shattering sex without putting a label on it, okay?

  “Hey.”

  It was Noah, making his way through the crowded kitchen.

  With Cameron and Jay trailing behind him.

  Christ. What was this? Intervention: Groomsmen Edition?

  He had managed to avoid them last night by ignoring their texts and hiding in his room. He wasn’t in the mood to talk—not even with Noah, which was saying something. But of course they’d known where to find him this morning. He couldn’t bail on the wedding cooking.

  He held his hands up as they approached as if he could physically deflect whatever it was they were going to say.

  To his surprise, though, no one said anything about last night’s scene on the beach. “We’re going for a hike,” Noah said mildly. “Thought you might want to come.”

  “Oh.” Given that the last Bennett had heard from Noah was a string of texts along the lines of What the fuck? Where are you? What happened? he had expected the Inquisition once they were finally face-to-face. “Uh, okay.” He could do a hike. Things were mostly under control on the catering front, and frankly, spending the rest of the day in his own company wasn’t an appealing prospect. As long as they didn’t have to talk about Gia, he was in.

  “Gia was keen to hike this park,” he said a few minutes later as they got out of the car at Boyd Hill Nature Preserve.

  “Was she now?” Noah said. He shot a look at Cameron that Bennett couldn’t decode.

  “Yeah. She’s not much of a beach person. More of a forest person.” He looked around at the palms and magnolias. “They don’t have these kinds of trees where she’s from. She’d be into this.”

  “Aww. You know what kind of trees she likes,” Cameron said, amusement in his tone.

  Right. Performing a monologue about Gia’s horticultural heritage was probably not Bennett’s most dignified moment. The guys were all looking at him like he was a cute kid they were humoring.

  Also, talking about Gia was not the way to achieve his goal of not talking about Gia.

  “Where’s Tobias?” he asked, in an attempt to change the subject. “Also, why is he such an asshole?”

  Noah winced. “He didn’t used to be such a prig. We met in undergrad. His family always invited me over for holidays.” Noah and Jane hadn’t had a lot of money growing up, and to hear it told, Noah had never been able to afford to go home for the holidays when he was in school in New York.

  “He made a friend,” Jay said. “Passed on the hike.”

  Bennett snapped his head around to try to read Jay’s expression.

  Cameron snorted. “He’s not talking about Gia. Tobias is hooking up with a waitress from the lobby bar. She fell for his fake English accent.”

  “How do y’all know all this?” Bennett asked. Just because Tobias had been hooking up with a waitress didn’t necessarily mean his interest in the “fair maiden” Gia had gone away.

  “Gia is getting her nails done,” Noah said, reading his mind. He was speaking slowly, like he was trying to reassure a child. “The girls are taking my mom and Wendy’s aunt out for a spa day.” When Bennett didn’t say anything, Noah continued. “Dude. Do we need to talk about this shit? Here I thought we were going to partake in the time-honored masculine tradition of engaging in physical activity instead of talking about our feelings. But by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

  Bennett shook his head. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m into her. It’s not mutual. End of story.”

  “What does that mean, you’re ‘into her’?” Cameron asked.

  “He’s in love with her,” Noah said quickly, before Bennett could answer. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “Okay, well, then what are you going to do about it?” Jay asked, getting all elder-statesman-y.

  As if it were that easy. As if all he had to do was decide. Jesus Christ. Bennett knew he was in love with her. It was the whole “the feeling is mutual” thing that was the stumbling block.

  “What can I do?” he asked, trying to tamp down his irritation even as he surrendered to the notion that he wasn’t going to be able to avoid talking about this whole clusterfuck. He turned to Cameron. “You heard her. She doesn’t want me.”

  “That’s not what I heard.”

  “Excuse me, what?” he scoffed, no longer bothering to try to hide his annoyance.

  “I heard you getting all weirdly bossy and telling her how things were—”

  “That’s not—”

  “Except ‘how things were’ did not include a declaration of love. Mostly you just insulted her hair and got all high-handed.”

  Wait. What? “That’s not what happened. I told her—”

  “You told her you guys were in a ‘relationship.’” Cam made quotation marks with his fingers as he kept blithely talking over Bennett. “What does that mean?”

  “If you stop interrupting me, maybe I’ll be able to answer you,” Bennett shot back, not caring that he really didn’t know Cameron well enough to be this rude.

  Jay put his arm around Cameron. “What my baby bro forgets sometimes is that we all had a rocky path to love.” He shot a quelling look at Cameron. “Let the man speak, Cam.”

  Bennett sighed and motioned for them to start walking. If they were going to have a powwow about his goddamned feelings, they could at least hike while doing so, so he could bare his fucking soul without eye contact.

  “What I meant,” he said, once they got moving, “was that we do all the stuff that people do when they’re in a relationship.”

  “And what is that stuff?” Jay, walking at the head of the line, seemed to have taken over as the facilitator of this group therapy session.

  “Well, okay, in a very short period of time, she knows all my shit, and I know all her shit.” He held up a hand preemptively. “And that’s all I’m going to say about that. Confidences were exchanged, and I’m not going to break them.”

  “Fair enough,” Jay said. “What else?”

  “Well, you know…” He wasn’t getting into that, either. A southern gentleman didn’t kiss and tell.

  Cameron chuckled from behind him.

  “My point is, all the pieces are there, but she thinks she’s relationship averse. She’s just scared, though.”

  “Isn’t that kind of presumptuous?” Noah said. “You’re just assigning her all these feelings? Has she told you she’s scared?”

  “She doesn’t have to. I know.”

  “That’s my point,” Cameron said. “You might not have meant to, but you did sound pretty presumptuous last night, just telling her the way things were between you.”

  “I’m just saying that what she says does not match up with what she does. With how she…”

  Comes apart in my arms.

  He cleared his throat. “So I don’t really care what we call it—that’s all I’m trying to say. If she wants to label it casual, I don’t really give a fuck. I just want to be with her.”

  “Because you love her,” Noah said.

  “Yes.” Part of him felt like maybe he should be embarrassed to cop to it in front of these guys he barely knew, but he was too far gone to care.

  “Then tell her, man.” Cameron slapped a tree as he passed it.

  “I can’t.” They weren’t listening. “That’s exactly what she doesn’t want, what’s guaranteed to scare her off for good. I shouldn’t even have said as much as I did last night. I should have just let things be what they were without trying to label them.”

  “Because you don’t ‘give a fuck’ about labels,” Jay said, and the way they kept repeating what Bennett had just said reminded Bennett of his time in recovery. They had tricked him. They’d made him think this was just a hike, but they’d gotten him after all.

  Bennett stopped walking, huffed a frustrated breath, and lifted his head. Stared at the moss-covered oaks that reminded h
im of home. Of Gia ribbing him about the size of his parents’ “yard.” “All right. That’s enough. The sharing circle is closed.”

  “Fine,” said Cameron, getting pissy, “but it sounds like you haven’t outright told her how you feel. Maybe give her a chance to reject you instead of doing it preemptively on her behalf.”

  Bennett felt a hand on his shoulder. Noah.

  “He’s not wrong, my friend.”

  * * *

  The prewedding dinner that night was held at a small Indian restaurant. Wendy was known for sniffing out the best restaurants when she traveled, and Bennett was right there with her. She generally eschewed the usual trappings of fine dining in favor of local gems, and the night before her wedding was no different.

  Bennett inhaled the inviting aroma of cardamom and cumin as the guys—they’d come separately from the women, who were wrapping up their spa day—were ushered through the main restaurant to a back room, trying to will the warm spices to soothe his jitters.

  Nope. Wasn’t working.

  There was no way around it. He was about to see Gia for the first time since their beach blowup, and he was nervous as hell. “Clammy hands, dry mouth, thundering pulse” nervous.

  He picked up a glass of water and took a big gulp. Which of course was the moment the women appeared in the doorway of the room.

  And there she was.

  He choked on his water.

  “Are you okay, man?” Noah clapped him on the back when his coughing didn’t immediately resolve itself.

  He nodded and got control of himself. Stood up, because that’s what the other guys were doing, and tried to let his gaze take in all of them with an equal degree of scrutiny. Tried to let it sweep over Gia without lingering any longer than on anyone else.

  Nope.

  It got majorly stuck.

  She was still platinum blond. It actually looked really good on her. His comments last night, the ones Cameron had said sounded like insults, hadn’t meant that he didn’t like her hair, just that his liking her hair was beside the point.

  She was wearing another sundress, this one a plain, pale blue with skinny spaghetti straps.