Page 22 of Ache
“Looks like there is a lot going on in that head of yours,” Lara comments as she types away.
I just stare at my screen. Maybe I’m more transparent than I think.
“Someone hacked my credit card.”
“Oh, shit.”
“And Alec wants to take me on a date.” Technically, he didn’t call it that, but let’s just call it what it is.
“Oh, really?” Her interest is explicitly piqued.
“Yes, he wants to take me to dinner, he wants to buy me lunch, he wants to give me all the things.” I sigh.
“And that’s a problem because?”
“We work together?” It’s a rhetorical reply.
“Get over it already.”
Yeah, I think that excuse has hit its limit, even if it’s the truth and can cost us both our careers.
Probably just mine. I’m expendable.
“Sometimes you have to choose nonsensible over sensible. It’s the only way you live. It’s what reminds you you’re alive. And sometimes, the outcome is favorable.”
“What happens when it’s not?” I already know the answer to that. I took a risk once. I chose nonsensible over sensible, and all it got me was monumental heartbreak.
“You pick up the pieces and move on.” She shrugs.
“You’d be okay with losing everything if things with you and Luke don’t work out?” I ask her point-blank.
“Would it suck, yes? Would I be devastated, yes? I love my job. I love my life, but I also love Luke. I’d rather know it didn’t work out and learn from my mistakes than wonder what if. That is my biggest fear. . .the ‘what ifs’.”
I’ve lived with a thousand what ifs. It’s basically all I know. It’s the only way I know how to live, but it’s not how I want to live.
“You can say no, Ever. Stay home and play your Stories app, like every other night.” Her tone is passive, but her message is anything but. “It’s your choice. Play a game of life, or actually live one.”
Harsh.But she’s so right.
I’m tired of pretending to have a life. I actually want one.
* * *
I standin front of the mirror in a form-fitting, black, off-the-shoulder dress with three-quarter-length bell sleeves. It’s understated and elegant and sexy all at the same time. I just ripped the tags off. It’s been sitting in my closet for close to a year. I never thought I’d wear it, yet here I am with my hair tied back in a low, sleek ponytail and my nails painted a bright, bold pink.
Alec is taking me to some French-fusion restaurant whose name I can’t even pronounce. He said he had to have one of the senior partners pull a string to get a reservation, the wait list is months long. I know I said I want to live, but a date with Alec is intimidating enough. Add all the bells and whistles, and I’m totally out of my element.
The buzzer in my apartment rings, alerting me that Alec is here. I take a deep breath, check myself out one last time, and rush to the front door.
“Yes?” I sing playfully through the intercom.
“Miss Paige, your date has arrived,” Alec toys back with me.
I press the button, granting him access into the building.
I’m nervous. So much can go wrong tonight.
But so much can go right,my subconscious hisses. I don’t have time to ponder it as my doorbell rings.He’s here,the little girl's voice fromPoltergeistrings in my head.
