Page 52 of Fake it For Good
“Let’s get a drink,” she said after we struck out on our trip. “There’s a new thrift store about two blocks over. We can check it out next.”
“Sounds good.”
We stopped at a coffee shop. Now that I knew I had a healthy paycheck coming my way, I didn’t mind splurging on an overpriced coffee. Sometimes, it was the little things that counted.
We sat down at a table by the window. Holiday shoppers were out in full force. People had pinched expressions as they either talked on the phone or stared straight ahead. It was supposed to be the season of love and laughter, but it seemed like it was the season of stress and anger.
“How has your work been going?” I asked Marie.
She sipped her peppermint bark coffee. “Busy. Boring. I think I need a change of pace. My parents have been offering to take me with them to the Bahamas. I think I might go. I’m stuck in a rut. I feel like I’ve fallen into my own hellish version of Groundhog Day.”
“You should do it,” I encouraged. “You deserve a vacation. I’m sure the firm would give you the time off. Go get some sun. Have fun. Enjoy life.”
“Says the woman who has never taken a vacation in her life,” she said.
“I’ve never had a vacation,” I said. “I don’t know what I’m missing. You do.”
“Way to make me feel guilty.”
I laughed and stared out the window. “Don’t feel bad. I’m a late bloomer. I might think about taking a little mini vacation after the holidays. Maybe I’ll rent a cabin up north and veg out.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not a vacation. That’s a getaway. A vacation is a week on a beach or at an amusement park. I think you should use some of the money you earn to treat yourself. You don’t have to be a saint and give it all to the kids. You deserve to enjoy it. We can go together! I’ll take a couple more horrible dates.”
She seemed so excited. I didn’t want to take away from that excitement. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t say that,” she scolded. “We’re doing it. As soon as I get home, I’m going to start searching for a good deal. Something hot. Do you have a passport?”
“You know I do,” I said. “You convinced me to get one two years ago, remember? We were going to go to Mexico.”
“Oh yeah,” she said. “And we didn’t because my firm got a big case, and you got that new job. Two years. Wow. See, wesohave to go somewhere. We’re not getting any younger.”
She was right. I was thirty-two. Life seemed to be rushing by me. I was stuck trying to put a life together before I could jump in the rat race. Every year I vowed to change things. To have more fun and live instead of just get by.
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll plan something.”
“I’m not kidding,” she said.
Before she could complain that I wasn’t really committing to the vacation, my phone rang. “This isn’t over,” she said.
“It’s him,” I said, grinning when I saw his name on my screen.
“Cane?”
I nodded and answered. “Hello.”
“Hey, are you busy?” he asked. Just the sound of the rich tone sent a shudder down my spine.
“Nope, just having coffee with my friend. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you could come to my place tonight,” he said. “I wanted to go over some details for the next event. I’ll make dinner.”
I was smiling like a damn fool. Marie was intently watching me. “I can do that,” I said.
“I’ll send you my address,” he said. “Can you be there around six?”
“I can,” I replied and hoped I sounded cool. “Just casual?”
“It’ll just be us,” he said. “Don’t worry about dressing up.”
