Date Me Like You Mean It

My sister calls me once a week, every Thursday, so we can catch up, but it’s really a ruse. There’s no catching up; there’s just Jolie talking about Jolie.

She owns a bridal boutique in Highland Park, precisely three blocks from our childhood home. She absolutely loves it, and the women who come in love her right back. I doubt there’s a bride in Dallas who doesn’t make a point to go to her shop while shopping for a wedding dress. She flies to Paris twice a year for Bridal Fashion Week and prides herself on having all the latest styles. Vera Wang put out a list of her top bridal boutique recommendations across the United States and my sister’s shop made the cut. Business has been booming ever since, and my sister has been busier than ever. Did I mention she also now has a kiddo on the way to boot? Talk about checking off all of life’s little boxes.

She’s still telling the same story from earlier about the woman and the wedding dress. I feel like I’ve heard it a million times before. Bride comes in, she wants a certain style, Jolie talks her into something else, lo and behold, the bride credits Jolie with single-handedly making her wedding day spectacular.

I unlock the door of my condo and kick it open with my foot. I can’t use my hands because they’re laden with things from Elise. I have two shopping bags full of stuff she wanted me to take home from work.

Aiden is on our couch, computer open on his lap, pencil between his teeth. Cole is here with him. That happens sometimes. Aiden invites writers from Texas Monthly over to our place when they’re working on a story together. Cole looks up and smiles in greeting, but Aiden’s still typing and therefore hasn’t realized I’m home. When he’s writing, he completely zones out the rest of the world. Usually, I find it to be an endearing trait. Right now, I’m annoyed that he’s not acting as my scapegoat.

“Hey Aiden, yes! I just got home!” I say aloud for my sister’s benefit.

He stops typing and looks up at me. The pencil drops from his mouth.

Oh right, Elise had me put on makeup this afternoon during a meeting she had with Austin Organics. They’re a local vegan cosmetics company, and their marketing team brought in products for her to test so she could get a feel for their brand. I was at my desk, responding to emails when she snapped her fingers and told me to follow her. From there, Elise proceeded to use me as a guinea pig during the meeting and I worried I’d come out of the room looking like a clown, but they actually did a really good job. Their tinted beeswax lip balm made my lips look lush without becoming annoyingly sticky, and the all-natural blush set off my cheekbones even more than usual.

I forgot to wash it all off, and Aiden’s blinking at me in surprise.

“Oh perfect!” Jolie says. “Aiden’s home? Put me on speaker, will you?”

I do as she says, and her chipper voices rings out through our living room.

“Hi Aiden!”

“Hey Jolie,” he says, dropping his computer onto the cushion beside him and pushing to stand. He’s headed my way, studying my face. His eyes are crinkled at the edges.

He doesn’t stop until he’s a foot away from me. We’re toe to toe with my phone held out between us. Aiden reaches out to finger the end of my blonde hair, and I realize it’s his way of letting me know he noticed I got a haircut. I’m a little surprised. It’s not all that different than it was before; they only chopped off a few inches.

“So James and I were planning to come down to Austin this weekend to see you guys,” Jolie announces. “I’ve made reservations for Saturday evening at Otoko on South Congress. Does that sound good?”

“Sure,” Aiden says, catching my gaze.

I stifle a sigh and squeeze my eyes closed. Dinner will be exhausting.

When I peek my eyes open again, Aiden is still watching me, his head tilted to the side, his dark brows crinkled.

I shake my head to let him know it’s fine that he agreed. It’s not that hard spending time with Jolie and James. Not really. I confirm with Jolie that dinner on Saturday will be great. After I’m off the phone, Cole stands to join us, and I finally have a chance to say hello to him.

We hug, which feels a little awkward, but I’m not sure what other greeting to do. We dated for a few months a while back. Physically, we didn’t even make it past first base, but I’m not sure Aiden knows that. He’s glancing between us, probably trying to read the tension, or lack thereof.