Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I freeze. Did he truly just say that? Something that observant? But then, he shocked me on the course when he admitted he listened to my podcast. I guess this is the week for surprising me.
“Why do you think I invited all of your friends to this party?” He continues. “It’s not because I don’t have friends to invite.”
I’m even more surprised, but a little confused too. On the golf course he said he invited them to make it more enjoyable for me. But I guess I didn’t truly believe him. Perhaps I thought he’d just wanted adulation and admiration from colleagues. And that the addition of my friends was…well…to fill the room.
Maybe I should try listening more. “What do you mean?”
“I wanted you to be with your friends,” he says, in an earnest tone I rarely hear. “They’ve become your family. I can tell that from your show. I get that. That’s on me. But maybe when I stop working, we can…” He stops, clears his throat. He’s not used to trying. It must all be so awkward, like learning to walk all over again. “Start…over?”
I definitely didn’t have put the past behind us on my father-son bingo card tonight. But it sounds like a damn good idea. “As adults? Not as father and son? Not as someone who judges me?”
He takes that on the chin with a guilty as charged nod. “Yes. As adults.”
I don’t know if it’s possible, but when someone offers you an olive branch, you should take it. After all, I’m willing to try. That’s what my entire career is based on after all. Trying. That’s what love is based on. Trying. “It might not be easy to fix this, Dad. A lot of things I’m realizing that are broken in my life tie back to you. But it’s on me now to fix my own stuff.”
“Maybe I can help?” He offers, and there’s no judgment. No arrogance. Just a simple offer.
I take it. “I fell in love with Juliet, and I need to tell her before I lose her.”
He slices a hand through the air, pointing to the exit. “Go get her.”
A short laugh bursts from me. “Well, that’s my goal.”
He brooks no argument. “No. Do it now. Get her now.”
“But it’s your party,” I insist.
His voice goes deeper, all papa bear. “But it’s your life. And life is short. I should know that as well as anyone.”
But the doors are opening, and guests are streaming in. Which gives me an idea. “What if,” I begin.
I tell him and agreement flashes instantly in his eyes, then delightful deviousness. “And since it’s my party, I’m going to change the schedule right now.”
33
EXTRADATE
Juliet
With my simple sapphire blue dress, a French twist and classy evening makeup, I walk into the clubhouse. I look damn good. I need this look tonight to cover up the ache inside me.
“You’ve got this,” Elodie says, squeezing my arm as we walk inside, her retro red polka dress swishing against her knees.
“We’re going to be right there if it gets hard,” Rachel reassures, looking equally gorgeous in a pretty fuchsia sheath dress.
“We’ve got you. Always,” Fable chimes in, stunning in a black silk number.
Hazel’s here too, but she had to take a call and said she’d join us soon.
My throat tightens, but that’s been happening all day. “It’s much harder to be the one having the breakup than it is to be the planner,” I say to my sister and my friend.
“I know,” Rachel says, since she’s been there and done that. I hosted her breakup party when she moved back to San Francisco once upon a time.
People need more care and guidance for heartbreak than we give them. “Maybe I’ll look into hosting retreats for the heartbroken once mine’s put back together,” I say, and the thought gives me new hope.
“Look at you. Always thinking of the future,” Rachel says, cheery and bright.
“You can’t stop being a futuristic optimist,” Elodie says as her man Gage catches up to her and plants a kiss on her cheek.
“You telling everyone what to do?” He teases in his gruff tone.
“What? Me? Never.”
“Yes. You. Always,” he says. “Always making trouble.”
She laughs, then shoos him away. “Go make yourself scarce. It’s girl time.”
“Say less,” he says, knowing the sanctity of those words, then he smiles at me and heads off.
I smile back, grateful for the all-around support even though tonight I don’t feel so optimistic, but soon I will. Thanks to my friends. “C’mon,” Fable says, offering an arm. “Let’s see our friends Veuve and Clicquot.”
“My besties,” I say.
“And they never let you down,” she adds.
We head straight for the bar, grabbing champagne to toast to my new future.
Dating me.
“Here’s to hot solo dates,” I joke, lifting a flute then looking around at the clubhouse, with its fireplace, veranda beyond the dais and understated party decorations—silver streamers and gold and silver balloons floating up by the ceiling. The place is packed already, with easily one hundred guests. There’s Agatha from the café at The Ladybug Inn chatting with a woman I spotted when I popped into Clementine’s earlier in the week. Over in another corner, I’m pretty sure I recognize some men and women I saw streaming out of the Downward Dog All Day studio. But I don’t see Monroe or the guest of honor. “I should find my date though. I promised I’d join him tonight.”