The Invitation

Fisher kissed my forehead. “We’re celebrating that this is all going to work out. Remember, if you don’t think positive, positive things won’t happen. I’ll be right back.”

While he disappeared to his apartment next door, I looked around. My living room was a total disaster, which felt appropriate right about now since my life matched it. One year ago, I’d been engaged to be married, had a great job making six figures, savings most twenty-seven-year-olds didn’t accumulate until they were forty, and the dream of an exciting new business venture. Now my ex-fiancé was engaged to someone else, I was unemployed and broke, and my new exciting business felt more like a noose around my neck.

I stared down at the loan-denial letter on the table for a minute, then wadded it up into a ball and pitched it toward the kitchen garbage can. Of course, I missed. In a daze, I shuffled through my mail, which was mostly just advertisements, and then decided to open the ripped package that had come. I assumed it was yet more of the product samples I’d ordered before the bank closed my line of credit—product I’d now never be able to afford. But when I opened the box, it wasn’t perfume-ingredient samples. Instead, it was a diary I’d ordered off eBay. I’d actually forgotten all about it since I’d won the auction almost three full months ago. Shipping from overseas could take forever, and this one had come from Italy.

Normally, when a new diary arrived, I could hardly wait to read the first chapter. But this one was just a reminder of two-hundred-and-forty-seven dollars I’d wasted. I set it down on the coffee table in the living room and decided to go wash up before Fisher returned with the champagne.

Ten minutes later, when I emerged from the bathroom, I found my best friend sprawled out on my couch, drinking bubbly and thumbing through the new diary.

“Uh…you know this woman didn’t write in English, right?” Fisher held out a glass of champagne for me.

I took it and plopped down on the chair across from him. “It’s Italian. And it’s a man’s. Which means I overpaid for it and still need to have it translated.”

Men’s diaries always went for a premium on auction sites because they were so rare. Last time I bought a French one, it cost me three-hundred dollars, plus a hundred-and-fifty bucks for a translator.

I sipped the champagne. “It’ll be collecting dust for a while. Splurging for a translation isn’t as high on my priority list as eating next month.”

Fisher shook his head and tossed the beat-up, old diary on the coffee table. “I thought you quit reading them after what happened last year when you got too caught up in it.”

I sighed. “I fell off the wagon.”

“You’re a strange bird, my Stella Bella. You know that?”

“This coming from a man who collects the stickers you peel off bananas on the inside of his coat closet door.”

My cell phone started to ring in my pocket, so I slipped it out and read the name flashing on the screen. “Well, this is appropriate. It’s the woman whose champagne we stole.”

“Tell her to send more.”

I laughed and swiped to answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, Stella. It’s Olivia.”

“Hey, Olivia. Thanks for calling me back. I wanted to let you know I have the perfumes done for your wedding party.”

“I’m so excited to see them. Or smell them. Or see and smell them. Whatever.”

I smiled. “I hope your friends like them.”

“I told a few people about what you do, and they’re all interested in having scents made. Do you know when your website will be up and running yet?”

I frowned. “Not in the foreseeable future, unfortunately.”

“Oh no. What happened?”

“The SBA turned down my loan application. I just received the letter today.”

“Idiots. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about taking on a partner? Someone who comes with a cash infusion in exchange for an interest in the business.”

I’d actually considered that, but no one I knew had much money. “Maybe. I’m going to give it some thought. Tonight I’ll have a few drinks to forget. Tomorrow I’ll start formulating a new game plan.”

“Good. That’s the right attitude.”

“Thank you. So where do you want me to ship your perfumes?”

“I could meet you tomorrow, if you’re free? My maid of honor is leaving in two days to go work in London for a few months. I’m meeting her for dinner tomorrow night. I’d love to give it to her then, if it’s not too much trouble for me to pick them up.”

“No, no problem at all.”

“Okay! I have a meeting in the morning. Is it alright if I text you when that ends to let you know a time? I should be able to come to wherever you are.”

“Sure, that’s fine. Talk to you then.”