“I—Okay. Okay, but… Shit. My job is on the line here. Surely there’s something we can do.”
Do? What the hell were they supposed to do?
“Well you can’t make her not have cheated on me, right? I’m sorry, but I’m not coming.”
“I…wait. I know. I’ve got it.” Bryan paused, and she was about to say no again when he started taking a hundred miles an hour. “Yes. Come anyway. Just you, okay? Come have a wonderful resort vacation on us like you planned. You can ski, you can relax in the hot tub, all your meals are paid for. Free wine. Spa treatments. All I ask is that you let me take a few pictures like we’d talked about when you won the trip. Some promotional photos, that kind of thing. That’s all. You can do that, right? Just some PR?”
She wanted to say no, but he kind of had her at free wine. She needed to get out of New York, clear her head, figure out what her next move should be. Why not do it at a fucking spa resort and get pampered while she was at it? She could handle a few pictures. No problem.
She took a deep breath. “This will keep you from losing your job?” It made no sense, but whatever.
“Yes. Yes, please say yes.” He couldn’t fake that sort of desperation.
“Okay. Yes. I’ll come.”
“Next weekend, as planned?”
“Next weekend. Friday. Like the paperwork says.”
“Perfect. You rock. I’ll have a car pick you up at the airport. You’ve saved me. Thank you.”
And then there was a click.
She stared at her phone where it sat on her desk, completely baffled by that entire conversation. She didn’t understand. But then, she didn’t understand a lot of things. Like how you sleep with someone for three years while you’re in love with someone else.
Well, fuck Josie. She was going to soak in a hot tub, drink free wine, get a facial and take some hot woman back to her hotel room. A different one every night. That would show that cheating bitch.
Sure, she should have maybe planned things a little better. Like, maybe proposed earlier. But she’d assumed…well she’d assumed wrong. But she hadn’t expected to win the damn “Honeymoon in Heaven” contest anyway.
Lesson learned. No more honeymoons.
She’d take a few days in heaven though. She could use them. She pulled out her phone to let her bestie know with a text.
I called and talked to the Summit Springs people and decided to go alone. Don’t make it weird. I need some time by myself.
Ginny answered back in less than a second.
Ginny
WHAT OMG IM CALLING!
Then the Macarena started playing.
“Hey, Macarena!” She smiled at the FaceTime call. “I said don’t make it weird.”
“I’m not. Are you okay? Are you going to do something stupid? Can I come?”
“I’m mad and heartbroken and completely fine. What are you wearing? Are you going out? Do you have a date?” She wasn’t fine, but she wasn’t in the mood to deal either.
“I am. She’s a stud—a chef. I’m wearing something warm but cute. Low cut, but with a scarf.”
Ginny was hot and only kind of knew it. What she thought was cute, most people would drool over. “You look amazing. I love your hair. Go make yourself her favorite dish.”
“I intend to. I need that Christmas Eve girlfriend, girlfriend.” She gasped. “Oh, god. That was tacky.”
“So tacky.” But she giggled her head off. She missed Ginny. They hadn’t lived in the same place at the same time since college, but they’d always kept in touch. “Girlfriend.”
“I love you, honey. Call any time except for after nine tonight. I hope to be busy.”