Perfect on Paper (31 page)

I couldn’t deny it. “Well, I guess, I guess I just don’t trust you,” I said.

“Why not?”

I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Well, to be honest, I don’t trust you because of that whole Super Show thing.”

“What Super Show thing?”

“You know, what you told Jess about me after the big party that JAG threw.”

She looked at me. “What?”

“Come on, Mandy, I know it was you.”

“You know it was me? What was me?”

“I saw your roommate’s sister there. I know what she told you.”

“My roommate’s sister? What? I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I looked her right in the eye.

“You didn’t tell Jess?”

“Tell Jess what?”

“You really didn’t tell him?”

The look in her eyes was blank.

Wow. I couldn’t believe how much my initial opinion of her had clouded my judgment of everything she said and did, and for so long. Talk about judging a book before you’ve walked a mile in its moccasins.

“Mandy, I think I owe you an apology,” I said.

“For what?”

I walked behind her desk and pulled her out of her chair. “For being an idiot. C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

We walked out into the hallway and nearly smashed right into McKenna.

“Uh, hi. I didn’t want to intrude, but I wasn’t sure where to go,” she said.

“No worries,” I said, and looked at Mandy. “Mackie, this is Mandy. And she needs a margarita.”

As we walked toward the elevator I made a mental note for a Honey Note.

Front: Ever wonder why the new girl at work seems to hate you so much?

Inside: Honey, think back to the angst of the high school lunchroom. Then offer her a seat at your table.

With three weeks to go before the auction, the planning for McKenna’s wedding continued full steam ahead. We pretty much had everything in order, and when the day came to send out the invitations, we went for a walk before work for a heart-to-heart.

“So this is it, my dear. The big day,” I said, as we headed down the steepest part of Fillmore toward the water. “Once those bad boys are in the mailbox, there’s no going back.”

“I can’t believe it,” she said. “I’m so nervous.”

“What are you talking about?” I stretched my arms over my head. “Why are you nervous? You two are perfect for each other. And I was kidding about the
no going back
by the way.”

“I know you were, and I know we are, but I’m still nervous, Wave. Seriously, so nervous.”

“Really? But why?” I said.

She scratched her cheek. “I love Hunter to death, I really do. But I like doing my own thing, too, ya know? And I love spending time with my friends. I just don’t want that to change once I’m married.”

“I know, I know.” I nodded my head. “I’ve realized those things about myself, too, thank God.”

“I hope I’m not a horrible wife,” she said.

I laughed and pushed her arm. “Mackie, please. You’re great with Hunter. Believe me, I’ve paid attention. Besides, he doesn’t want a Stepford wife, he wants you. He knows how you are, and he loves you for it. He doesn’t expect you to change just because you’re marrying him.”

“Do you think so? Even though we’ve been together forever, I’m afraid things might change once we’re officially married. Does that make sense?”

I put my arm around her and squeezed. “Don’t worry, Mackie, you’re going to be fine.”

“Really?”

I laughed. “Yes, really. Ya know, I must say that I’m rather enjoying this moment.”

“What moment?”

“The one moment in our ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP where I’m the one calming
you
down, not vice versa.”

She laughed. “I’m glad my stress brings you joy.”

“Seriously, Mackie, ask yourself this: do you want to be with Hunter?”

She nodded.

“Forever?”

She nodded again.

“Are you sure?”

She paused for a few seconds and then smiled. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Then you’re going to be fine. If you’re doing what you really want to do, you’ll be happy. It’s as easy as that.”

“Ya think?”

I nodded. “Don’t worry about how your life is supposed to be. Just make it how you want it to be.”

Once the words were out of my mouth, I realized that I finally believed them.

Late that night, hoping he’d be gone from the office, I called Aaron. I’d noticed that attorneys tend to live at the office, so I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t answer, in which case I’d either have to hang up or disguise my voice and pretend it was a wrong number (thank God his office phone system didn’t have caller ID). But I lucked out and got his voicemail, so I left a message wishing him the best with the baby and his marriage and life in general. I didn’t have the guts to actually talk to him, but I meant what I said and wanted him to know that I’d moved on.

I didn’t mention the hiding behind a car thing though—I’d matured, but I hadn’t gone insane.

I hung up and went to bed contented, finally feeling the sense of closure I’d wanted so much.

And the very next day, I did what I should have done long before.

I quit my job.

The Tuesday evening before the auction, I was walking along Union Street in the Cow Hollow neighborhood, window-shopping for a dress to wear and chatting with Andie on my cell phone.

“So after the next press tour for the Honey Notes, that’s it? You’re done with K.A. Marketing?” she said.

“Yep,” I said. “Totally done.”

“I still can’t believe you quit.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I didn’t think you’d ever leave that place,” she said.

“You didn’t?”

“Nope. Besides that Mandy girl and the occasional annoying client, I thought you loved it there.”

I smoothed my hand over my ponytail. “Yeah, well, it took me a while to even realize it, much less admit it, but I didn’t love it, and to be honest I didn’t even like it all that much anymore.”

“Really?” she said.

“Yeah, I mean, it was okay, and I did like it at one point, but I always thought that I should
love
it because, well, because everyone was always saying what a great job it was, you know?”

“It did sound perfect, but I guess that was on paper,” she said.

I laughed. “I could say the same thing about my relationship with Aaron. But anyhow, my heart just wasn’t in it anymore. I think that’s why I was so quick to judge Mandy, because she tried harder than I did. And it turned out that I was wrong about her, you know. She’s actually pretty nice.”

“So what happened to push you over the edge?”

“Not one thing in particular. I guess it was more a feeling that it was okay to try something new and move on, you know? That it was okay to admit that sports PR wasn’t the right career for me, or at least anymore.”

“What did your boss say when you told him?”

“He wasn’t thrilled, but he understood. Part of me thinks he may even have been a little relieved, because it wasn’t like I’d been all that busy lately. It obviously hasn’t been the greatest year for me there. And now I can focus full time on the Honey Notes, which is what I’ve realized I really want to do anyway. I’ve even thought about branching the Honey brand out to other products for single women.”

“Really? Like what?”

“
Honey
, I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” I said, laughing.

“Cool. And at least you’re free of that whole annoying client thing,” she said.

I smiled. “I definitely won’t miss that. From now on, the only client who gets to boss Waverly Bryson around is Waverly Bryson.”

“So what happens next?” she said.

“Well, after Mackie’s wedding I’m going to Mexico to figure that out.”

“Mexico? Nice. Who with?”

“No one, just me.”

“Really?”

“Yep, I’ve got it all booked. Ten days at the new Playa del Sol resort in Cabo San Lucas, all by myself.”

“Man, good for you, Waverly. Going on vacation by yourself takes guts.”

I sat down on a bench outside the Coffee Roastery on the corner of Fillmore and Union. “Ya know, I’m actually really looking forward to it. To all of it.”

“Seriously, I’m proud of you. You’re so grown up,” she said.

“Me? Grown up? As in a grown-up?”

“Are you kidding? Totally. Look at what you’re doing with your life.”

I smiled. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way. So I guess you can be grown up and still eat cereal for dinner?”

She laughed. “Apparently so.”

“Cool,” I said.

“Well, I’m very impressed.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I mean
gracias.
I guess I should start practicing my Spanish.”

Just then I spotted Brad Cantor in the crosswalk.

“Oh crap,” I whispered into the phone.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just another Brad Cantor sight—”

A vision of Mandy Edwards, alone and crying at her desk, flashed before me.

“Andie, I’ll call you back.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ll explain later. Bye, Andie.”

I shut the phone and waved my hand. “Hey, Brad, over here.”

The day of the singles auction, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. I rolled over and looked at the clock on my nightstand. It was 5:30 a.m.

“What the …?” The sun was definitely still asleep, as were all sane people in the Pacific time zone. Was it always this dark outside at five thirty in the morning? Had I ever even been awake at five thirty in the morning?

I crawled out of bed and squinted at the caller ID display on my phone. It was filled with zeroes.

“Hello?” I said.

“Happy birthday, Miss Bryson!!!”

I held the phone away from my ear. “Davey?”

“What up, chicken butt?! Are you awake?”

“I am now. Why are you calling me at five thirty in the morning?”

“It’s only five thirty there? Oops, sorry about that. I can’t keep these time zones straight.”

“Where are you?” I said, sitting back down on the bed and rubbing my eyes.

“Bali. Lindsay and I are sipping cocktails in the hotel lounge, but I couldn’t miss your thirtieth birthday.”

“Wow, Davey, I’m touched. Seriously.”

“Hey now, our friendship doesn’t end with our jobs, right?”

“Right. And guess what? I quit mine, too.”

“You quit? Because of Gabrielle?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I think it was more the fact that I liked the idea of sports PR more than I liked sports PR itself. It just took me a while to realize it.”

“Wow, well, I’m sure they’ll miss you,” he said. “You were really good at your job.”

“Thanks, and I’ll miss them, too, but they can still see me, right?” I said. “Like you will when you get back?”

“True,” he said. “So speaking of seeing you, are any men doing that these days?”

I crawled back under the covers. “Nothing to report, sir. And that’s fine with me.”

“You still breaking hearts?”

I laughed. “Never was.”

“You’re killing me, Bryson.”

“You know, there’s something I never told you about that,” I said.

“About what?”

“About my wedding, and about this whole ‘breaking hearts’ myth that you like to perpetuate.”

“Your wedding?” he said. “Are we talking about the one you called off, or have I been out of the country longer than I thought?”

“The one I called off, silly. Only I didn’t.”

“You lost me.”

“I didn’t call it off,” I said.

“You didn’t call it off?”

“Nope.”

“So you’re married?”

I laughed. “No, you butthead,
he
called it off.”

“
He
called it off? Really?”

“Really,” I said.

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry, Waverly.”

“That’s okay, I’m over it now,” I said. “Finally.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I was a lame-o.”

“Because you were a
lame-o
?”

“Well that, and a few other reasons, too. But basically because I was a lame-o who was afraid of what people would think of her.”

“Bryson, I’ve been giving you grief about that for like two years. Who’s the lame-o now?”

“I don’t want to hear it, okay, Davey? I should have told you, but I didn’t. End of story, okay?”

“Okay, okay. So I guess this means I can’t heckle you about being single anymore?”

I laughed. “No, of course it doesn’t. It just means that I’m not going to let it bother me when you do.”

“Did it really bother you that much?”

“A little, but I’m done with worrying about what other people think. Now I’m just trying to focus on what
I
think.”

“Wait a minute. Who are you and what have you done with Waverly? Hey, am I on the radio?”

“I’m hanging up now, Davey.”

“Happy birthday, Miss Bryson.”

A few hours later, McKenna, Andie, and I were cruising along in luxury seats aboard American Airlines flight 24 to New York’s John F. Kennedy International Airport. We were chatting about the upcoming weekend and thoroughly enjoying a gourmet breakfast of eggs Benedict, croissants, fresh fruit, and cappuccinos.