“Fine. What IS his name?’
“Mr. Margarita it is,” she sighed. “I think I rebounded too fast. It was a mistake. Then he tried emailing me and—”
“Wait, Mr. Margarita came back for more? Do tell!”
“Get the coffee.”
Britt waited for Marj to get back and then she dove into the muffin face first. Marj sat impatiently while her friend chewed.
“Have you had enough carb therapy? Can you talk yet?”
“Sure. He emailed, but I didn’t want to pursue it. I don’t think I’m in the right head space for a relationship right now. I just got out of one that was pretty serious and I can’t deal with more drama. My emotions are too raw.”
/> “Are you on a talk show? Your emotions are too raw. Your head space isn’t right. Honey, please. If a man curled my toes like that and then bothered to contact me, I would straight up hand him my panties and tell him I was all in.”
“That’s because you’re in a better head space than I am.”
“Stop saying head space or I am eating that muffin. Right now,” Marj said.
“How’s it going with Luke?”
“It’s not. I like him; he likes himself. We work together, so it’s probably a crap idea anyway. But, good news is, I’m low carb again. You will envy my abs.”
“Okay. I will. I promise. Why are you low-carb again? You get so mean.”
“It’s just the healthiest way, I mean, sugar kills. That muffin is killing you. It’s why you look so old.”
“Don’t make me force-feed you bread. Did Luke put you up to this?”
“Luke? Are you kidding? Anything that involves giving up wine would be right out with him.”
“Not all alcohol, though, right?”
“All alcohol.”
“You are going to be so much fun. The men will beat down your door to get at you.”
“Snark if you will but I’m going to be super-hot.”
“Marj, you’re gorgeous. I don’t know why you would—you know what, do what works for you. If giving up carbs makes you happy, do it. Live and let live.”
“Is that muffin putting you in a better head space? Because live and let live is so not the Britt I know.”
“Must be the muffin. I don’t want to judge.”
“You should eat more of those.”
“You’re low carb. Shame on you!”
“I’m not a low carb priestess or anything. You can ruin your health if it makes you nicer.”
“Thanks a lot.”
Chapter 12
Britt managed to avoid him for days. She calmly completed her work tasks to only slightly less than her usual standard of efficiency. At her standing Thursday coffee date with Marj, she managed to deflect the hook up teasing with a minimum of flustering and at night, she watched the house-remodeling channel until she couldn’t stay awake. Her dreams were comfortably peopled with carpenters and decorators as a result.
That Friday was Luke’s birthday, and they met at Tito’s for a drink or three to celebrate. There were seven or eight people from the firm there, passing around guacamole and draining pitchers of margaritas. Britt should’ve known better than to relax. Just as she was biting a slice of lime from the bottom of her second drink, Jack breezed in, sleeves rolled up and hair shaggy, his dimple showing as he greeted the bartender, raised his hand in a wave to his coworkers and approached. She slunk down in her chair and muttered to herself about margaritas and shitty luck.