Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“Is that true? Or did they give him a chance, and he blew it? I don’t know the answer, but you do.”
She groans in a way that tells me that she knows the answer. I’m right, and he’s a dickhead. It’s all in a day’s work.
“You have two choices,” I say. “You can listen to your friends and consider their opinions, or you can say screw it and do what you want. But before you decide, think about a few things. Imagine the dates you’ll go on and the people you’ll hang out with. What will late nights look like? Will he take care of you when you’re sick or become interested in the things you love so he can talk to you about them?”
A soft grin kisses my lips as I think about Drake searching out the restaurants in Nashville that he thinks I’ll like best and how he asks me about my art projects. It’s kind of annoying how great he is.
“I’ll think about it. Thanks, Gianna.”
“No problem. Thanks for calling in.” Francine gives me the sign that the final caller of the day is waiting. “Next on the line we have … Justin,” I say, reading off the computer screen. “Hey, Justin. We’re not talking about Drake, so please don’t bring him up. Other than that, what do you need to know?”
“Hey, Gianna. I really, really need your wisdom right now.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
He takes a shaky breath that grabs my attention. “I’ve been seeing this guy for a while. Seven months and four days, to be exact.”
I smile at the exactness of the relationship.
“And he’s great. Or I’m pretty sure he’s great.” He pauses. “He was great before last weekend—that I know for sure. I think.”
“I take it something happened last weekend.”
He sighs, and his stress is palpable. Unlike a lot of my callers, he’s not jumping to his significant other’s defense right out of the gate, making them seem guilty from the start. I’m curious about where this is headed.
“Last Friday, he told me that he was going to see his sister for the weekend in Kentucky because she just had a baby. I couldn’t go because my boss thinks I need to show up for a full 40-hour workweek every damn week.”
I hear a smile in his voice, and I instantly like Justin. If his man is playing games with him, I might seek revenge myself.
“So he leaves Friday morning, and I pack him a cute little lunch for the road, and off he goes. I know he was there Friday and Saturday because he sent me pics of him with his niece, who, might I add, is the cutest baby in the world. And thanks to the trial between a pirate actor and blond actress a few years back, I know how to tell when a photograph was taken.”
“That’s where I learned that trick, too.”
“It was truly a public service. Anyway, fast-forward to Sunday when I’m out brunching with a bestie, and who is sitting across the room with another man? Him.”
Justin’s voice sounds calm, but I can hear the heartbreak just below the surface. Despite having never met Justin a day in my life, I’d fight someone for him. I trust my intuition, and it tells me that Justin is one of the good ones.
“Did he offer an explanation?” I ask.
“No, because I went home, packed my shit, and left.”
I lean forward, resting my arms on the table. This is complicated. His reaction—packing his stuff and leaving—is my normal suggestion. Don’t waste time on unworthy men. But something feels off to me about this, and I can’t put my finger on it.
“He’s blowing up my phone,” Justin says. “He showed up at my work last Monday but got my shifts wrong, and I wasn’t there. My inbox on every platform is loaded with messages from him, but I can’t get myself to read them.”
“Why?”
He hiccups a breath. “Because I know he’ll want to talk to me and I’m afraid I’ll either forgive him too easily or have my heart broken. It’s easier to live in the gray than plunge into the darkness, if that makes sense.”
Francine watches me intently from the sound booth. Curiosity is painted all over her face. The fact that I haven’t suggested a rebound fuck and we’ve been on the phone beyond the five-minute mark might be a record, and she’s clearly noticed.
I have, too, for that matter.
My entire platform is built on the premise that love is a choice and that too many of us make bad choices. Life’s too short to be unhappy, and it’s definitely too short to entertain bad people. So why does a part of me want to suggest that Justin hear him out?
The businessperson in me knows that I need to stay on brand. Branding is such a massive part of marketing, and the execs haven’t filled the Thursday slot yet—something I’ve avoided thinking about lately. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of life when people know your name, it’s terrifying. There’s no privacy. You become gossip fodder. Everyone has something to say, whether they know anything about it or not, and the thing I used to love most—social media and chatting with people—is the thing that gives me the most anxiety now.