“Diego? What’s going on?” she asks softly, hugging me back.
“I messed up,” I say.
We keep Diego on speaker while I tell her everything that transpired between me and Drew yesterday.
“I’m sorry, Allie, but sometimes things happen for a reason. Maybe this happened to clear the way for you and Matthew.”
“I don’t want Matthew,” I half cry, half whine. The words fly out of my mouth without any hesitation.
“I know that,” Gabby says around a smug smile. “You just needed to remind yourself.”
“Agreed,” Diego says. “And uh, now that Gabby’s there, I’ll talk to you guys later, okay?”
“Thanks, D,” I say.
“No problem.” He disconnects.
The honest-to-God truth is I don’t want Matthew back. I want a future with Drew. The thought of not seeing him ever again is more painful than anything else I can imagine, even being covered head-to-toe with poisonous spiders.
“I still have to see Matthew, don’t I?” I ask.
“Yes. But only because the two of you are friends. You’re something special to each other and if you’re lucky, you’ll always have that.”
“That might be hard for Drew to accept. That is, if he even gives me another chance.”
“There’s only way to find out.”
“Love is so hard,” I grumble, a mixture of hope and new awareness filling my chest. I messed up, but I know in my heart Drew and I are meant to be together.
“If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be worth it.”
“Since when did you get so smart?”
She yanks on my ponytail. “You’re not the only one who lives and learns.”
“Thanks, Gabby. How are you doing? How was Newport?”
“I’m good. It was fun.”
“Really?”
“Really. I met a guy.” She gets that gleam in her eye that tells me she’s under the spell of a Romeo. Again.
“Gab—”
“And this time I had some fun with him and then I said goodbye.”
“That doesn’t sound like you,” I challenge. Gabby is quick to fall in love every single time.
“It’s the new me. I figure if you can step out of your comfort zone, then I can step out of mine. No more boyfriends. Not for a while anyway. This single girl doesn’t need a man to make her happy.”
I lift my hand for a high five. “Amen, chica. I’m proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too. Want to order pizza and start getting the house back in order?”
“I’d love to.”
We spend the rest of the night talking, laughing, and organizing furniture and knickknacks. Mr. Hernandez helps us move the heavier items and tells us the neighborhood hasn’t been the same without our cheerful faces. He and our other neighbors want to plan a block party for our return. I know, no one has block parties anymore, but our street does.
Gabby and I are beat by the time nine o’clock rolls around so we go to sleep, joking that we’re too young to be hitting the sack so early, but once in a while is okay.
One guess who I dream about when I finally doze off. I’ll give you a hint: His name starts with a D and ends with a W. I wake up with renewed energy and dress for work.
I get to the senior center with a giant box of donuts in my hands. Monday being Monday, some glazed or chocolate goodness will help us through the day. I drop the box off in the kitchen then go to my office. A balloon bouquet is waiting for me. White and yellow balloons surround a huge Mylar balloon that says You Rock! I smile. Donations have continued to land in my Venmo account and the total is now up to one hundred and sixty thousand dollars.
I did it and then some.
Or rather, I instigated it, and the generosity of strangers saved us. It’s inspired me to think of more ways to help senior citizens. Not just in my city, but across the nation. I’d like to start a foundation with some of the money. I’d like to work more directly with the National Institute of Senior Centers for ways to make the voices of seniors heard.
I pick up the framed picture of me, Gabby, and Diego with our grandparents. They gave everything to us. Taught us to be good people. The elderly deserve goodness in return.
“Good morning, rock star,” Karen says, striding into my office and taking the chair across from me.
“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” I say.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Alejandra, we’ve been receiving private donations all weekend directly to the center.”
A buzz charges through my veins. “What?”
“After the news broadcast, people started phoning the center asking where they could donate.” She leans across the desk to give my hand a squeeze. “We’ve received an additional hundred thousand dollars.”
My jaw drops. “That makes two hundred and sixty thousand dollars.”
“Actually,” she says, “Venmo got in touch and said they would match the donations to your account.”
“Shut up!” My pulse pounds in my ears. No puedo creer que esto este sucediendo. I can’t believe this is happening.
“We are in business for a long time to come thanks to you.”
I’m overcome with emotion. I blink back tears until I can’t. Karen can’t either. We’re a giggling, crying mess when Lu walks in. “I’m not crying, you’re crying,” she says, joining us.
The entire workweek is a celebration, for which I’m grateful. I’ve little time to think about anything but the center as we plan and strategize.
On Friday, I’m sitting at my desk working on a proposal when an unexpected guest knocks on my open door.
“West?” I scramble to my feet. The only reason I can think of for him to be here is because something happened to Drew. “Is everything okay? Is Drew okay? Please tell me he’s all right.” I almost trip moving around my desk. West catches me by the elbow.
“Hey, slow down. Drew is fine. Well, he’s surviving, let’s say, but I’m glad to see this reaction from you.” He releases my arm.
Now that I know I don’t have to run out of here to see if Drew is still alive, I settle back behind my desk. West barely folds himself into my guest chair. I hadn’t realized how tall he was. “Oh, okay, good.” I release the breath I was holding. “I mean not good that he’s surviving, rather it’s good that he’s not hurt or something.”
West raises an eyebrow.
“Physically hurt.” I pinch my arm under my desk. Get it together, Alejandra. “And my reaction is perfectly normal given he’s someone I care about.”
“Is that all? You just care about him?”
“I think that’s between me and Drew.”
“Fair enough. It’s not why I’m here anyway. I stopped by to say congratulations.”
My neck stiffens. Like a bird in surprise. “You did?”
“You don’t have to sound so stunned. I am a good guy. And yes, I came to say what you did was genius and I’m happy to see the senior center continue.”
“Truly?” I ask around a smile. West is a nice person. He’s only been doing his job.
“Okay, somewhat happy. But I like to acknowledge defeat with class rather than any ill will, so again, congratulations.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“For what it’s worth, your boyfriend is very happy for you.”
“Drew’s not my boyfriend.” I want him to be. I hope when the weekend is over he will be.
“You sure about that?” He stands up, puts his arm out for a handshake. “I’ll see you around, Alejandra. Take care.”
He walks out of my office like he did not just drop a bomb on my day. Was he hinting that Drew could forgive me seeing Matthew? That Drew still cares about me, too, and there’s still a chance for us? God, I hope there is.
I drop my head onto my desk. Tomorrow is the big day. I’ve known Matthew for eight years, loved him for seven, missed him for one.
I’ve had a plan to win
back Drew for two days.
Wish me luck.
*
The view of Los Angeles is stellar from the roof deck of the Observatory. It’s especially beautiful at night when the city is lit up with lights against the backdrop of a black sky. Matthew and I came here often to stargaze, picnic, or just hang out. The last time we were here—the last time I was here—was about a month before he left.
I fiddle with the brooch on my dress, keeping my hand on the vintage glass bead and diamond flower-shaped pin in hopes it will bring me luck. At the very least, it helps me feel connected to my grandmother, and in some small way, my mom. Whenever my grandmother wore it, she always said my mom wore it better. I wish I could remember seeing her wear it, but I can’t.
A slight breeze carries the scent of jasmine and I try to relax the nerves inside me. I’m tempted to look at my phone for the time, but I don’t. I know he’ll be here.
My hands are slippery on the railing. My leg won’t stop bouncing. A couple next to me leans against the guardrail and takes a selfie. “Would you like me to take a picture for you?” I offer.
“Would you?” The girl gives me her phone. My small purse dangles from the bend in my arm as I snap the photo. “Thank you,” she says.
“You’re welcome.” I smooth my hand down my midnight-blue lace maxi dress and resume my position against the railing. The breeze ruffles my hair so I tuck it behind my ears.
“Alejandra?”
At the sound of Matthew’s voice, I turn around. This is it. The moment we’ve waited three hundred and sixty-five days for. Will it be awkward? Easy? Feel like no time has passed? “Hi, Matthew.” He looks the same, like I just saw him yesterday. There’s the answer to one of my questions.
“Hi.” His face lights up with a smile. “It’s good to see you.”
“You, too.”
We lean in to hug, but don’t know how close to get so it’s cumbersome and brief. There’s the answer to another question.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“Thanks. You look exactly the same. Maybe your hair is a little longer?”
“A little, yeah.”
“How was your flight?” He came directly from the airport for me.
“Long.”
“Dumb question,” I say. “Want to sit?” I motion to a bench.
“Sure.”
We leave a little space between us as we sit down. He’s wearing jeans and a polo shirt and his knee touches mine as he gets comfortable. It doesn’t spark even the tiniest bit of electricity.
“So,” we say at the same time then laugh.
“This is weird,” he says.
“It is,” I agree. “But then it’s been a while.”
“We never had trouble immediately connecting.” He takes my hand in both of his and turns it over in his palm like he’s testing our bond, checking to see if there’s anything still there. “I guess time and distance have had an effect.”
I cover his hand with my free one. “I think so.” Touching him again doesn’t trigger the slightest desire to touch him more.
He continues to hold my hand in his, placing our linked fingers on his thigh. “I’ve dreamed about a lot of different scenarios here.”
“Me, too.”
“Yeah?” His brown eyes meet mine and I look really hard into them. I don’t blink. I don’t think. I just want to feel. Something.
And I do. Familiarity. Comfort. Friendship.
“I’ve missed you and thought about you every day,” I say. “But…”
“You’ve met someone else.”
“Yes. Did you?”
He squeezes my hand as if to take the edge off what he’s about to tell me. “I met a few someones.”
I nod. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a twinge of hurt, but it’s okay. I’m okay with this news. “Anyone special?”
“Not as special as you.” He takes a strand of hair at my shoulder and twists it around his finger.
“Matthew.”
One word. Just his name and he knows. He was always good at reading my tone. And he was always good at guessing my emotions with little to no help from me.
“It’s okay, Allie. I knew what I was risking. And I was willing to take that risk because the bottom line is I want you to be happy.”
My eyes fill with tears. My breathing flutters. This is Matthew. My Matthew. The boy who meant everything to me and I love him. But not the same way anymore. I’m not in love with him. I could watch him walk away and go back to New Zealand for another year, another five years, and my heart would remain perfectly intact.
I can’t imagine going one more day without seeing Drew. The ache his short absence has left is gigantic.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter.
“Why are you sorry? You have no reason to be sorry.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m not hurt. Disappointed, yes, but that’s on me, not you. We promised to meet, nothing more. And now we can truly move on. As friends.”
“Thank you.” I cup his cheek. “That’s the best thing you could have said. You will always be one of my most important friends.”
He smiles.
“Are you back in California for good?” I ask, dropping my arm and withdrawing my hand from his.
“For now, yeah. But who knows. Adventure awaits, right?”
What perfect parting words. I hope I’m not too late for my biggest adventure of all. I get up from the bench. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I need to go.”
“To see him?”
“Yes.”
“Is that why you changed our meeting time to six?”
“Yes.”
“And the dress is for him, too?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love him?”
“More than anything.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Perfect Match
Drew
There comes a time in a person’s life when they can do whatever they want and say whatever they want. Things like, “Drew, if you are going to be an idiot, then you’ve got to be tough.”
This from my eighty-year-old grandmother.
It’s her birthday today so I can’t talk back and tell her I’m not an idiot. Not that I would if it wasn’t her birthday. She gets away with saying anything she wants because she’s of that age. Normally the unpleasant things she says make me laugh. Or cringe. This, however, makes me mad.
Because she’s right. I need to toughen up.
She’s cornered me in the kitchen as I drink a beer to drown my sorrows. My mom and the party planners are in full prep mode for this evening’s celebration, moving swiftly around the house and the backyard without need for further help from me. I glance at my watch. Start time is one hour.
“You’re right,” I say and kiss her cheek. I also need to put on a happy face even if I don’t feel it. Tonight is special. My grandmother is special. And the fact that Alejandra isn’t here should not ruin it.
When I mentioned to my grandmother yesterday that Alejandra had something come up and wouldn’t be my date, my grandmother had stayed unusually quiet. I guess she needed time to formulate an opinion. That happens, too, in later years. You need more time to think. (Don’t tell her I said that.)
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask, pressing my shoulders back and giving her my best smile. “Or escort you to the bar?” I put out my elbow.
She takes my arm. I lead her out of the kitchen toward the backyard. “What do you think of the decorations?”
“They’re terrific,” she says sincerely, then she tugs me in a different direction.
“Where are we going? The bar is out back.”
“I need a word with you in private.” She deposits us on the front porch, just in time to greet Finn and Chloe, a small gift box in Chloe’s hand. So much for privacy.
“Hi! Happy birthday!” Chloe says, wrapping Grandmother in a big hug.
“Happy birthday, Grandmother,” Finn says, kissing her
cheek. “How is it you keep looking younger?”
Grandmother preens at the compliment.
“Hi, Drew.” Chloe gives me a hug.
Then Finn and I do the one-arm guy hug. “Hey, Bro. It’s good to see you.”
“You too,” I say. “We’ll be right in,” I tell them.
The front door closes behind Finn and for some reason my Spidey senses start to vibrate now that my grandmother and I are alone and away from everyone else. “It’s just you and me,” I say. “What’s up?”
“I need to come clean,” she says.
“About what?”
“I knew you were fibbing when you told me Alejandra was your girlfriend.”
I run my hand along my jaw. I didn’t exactly see that coming, but then I’m not surprised either. I also feel guilty for not telling her before today. “You did?”
“Of course I did. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
I laugh. “No, you weren’t.” I step off the porch so we’re slightly closer to eye level. “I meant to come clean to you. But then Alejandra and I are—were—actually dating so it slipped my mind. What gave it away?”
“Funny story.”
“I’m all ears.” She’s had some good stories over the years.
“The morning you and I had breakfast, I actually got to the hotel early to have coffee with my friend Margaret. And as it turns out, we were sitting at a table next to Alejandra—and I believe her sister and sister’s boyfriend if my eavesdropping skills are correct.”
“Holy shit.”
Grandmother grins. “I wasn’t there long since you and I had a date, but it was long enough for me to be smitten with that girl. She spoke so kindly to her sister. She treated the waitstaff like they were friends. And she wore a brooch on her dress that she touched more than once, as if it was the most important thing on her body. Even more important than a limb. So, when I saw you talking to her, well, it didn’t matter if you knew each other or not.”
“Holy shit,” I repeat.
“Just call me the greatest matchmaker of all time,” she says with pride.
“But we really did know each other. Not exactly like I alluded to, but we had met once before.”
“And that made my job a little easier.”
I walk in a small circle, digesting everything my grandmother just said. She’s a tough critic and for her to see something rare in Alejandra means I am the idiot she called me if I don’t fight for the woman I love. If I don’t at least tell her I love her before she chooses between me and Matthew. I stop pacing and meet my grandmother’s affectionate gaze.
Hot Shot (American Royalty Book 3) Page 20
