Even if I had wanted to play matchmaker, I didn’t have time. Between my actual job at the shop and planning three major events, I had too much on my plate to manage other people’s love lives for them. Parker’s party alone had me under enough pressure to make breathing hard some days.
Party was the wrong word to describe what he wanted to do. He didn’t care about the party part at all. His goal was to raise money to take on big name-brand manufacturers who used smaller companies to do their work and then paid them so little that those smaller employers often hired immigrant or undocumented workers and way underpaid them. He wanted to fight for fair wages for those workers.
But getting people to fund his fight had to involve some entertainment and fun. Enter: me, the party girl. The flip side of bringing the fun, though, was feeling like I couldn't breathe some days. I wanted everything to be perfect. Which is why I recruited help in the form of Daddy and Jami.
Daddy was sponsoring the event, and Jami . . .
Well, Jami’s job was to do the grunt work for Elton’s party so I could focus on Parker’s and to ease my conscience. Parker’s reprimand about not reaching out to her had been echoing in my head for months. Elton’s demand for a party gave me an excuse to offer her a job and a way to avoid dealing with Elton. Plus it would make Parker happy. It was a win-win for everyone.
The guest list for Parker’s event included every philanthropist within a fifty-mile radius plus anyone else Parker thought might donate to the fund. Even Blake was on the list. I set up a silent auction and got some great donations as prizes, but there had to be some entertainment.
Since I’d gone with a Japanese theme for the decorations—lanterns, mini bonsai on the tables, arrangements of mums and apricot blossoms (cherries weren’t in season)—it seemed obvious what the entertainment should be: karaoke. And obviously Parker would be participating. I was even willing to do a duet with him.
I told him my very good idea as I stood outside his door one rainy afternoon, and I got the exact reaction I expected.
“What makes you think karaoke is happening at my party or that I’d be participating in it if it were?” He stepped aside to let me in.
“Of course you’ll have karaoke. The party will be boring without it.” I squeezed my damp hair then walked past him into the family room and sat down. “Can we watch something besides soccer?”
“Liverpool is playing. And karaoke is not a prerequisite to making a party fun.” He sat next to me and took the remote out of my hand before I could change the channel.
“Why do we care about Liverpool, and why are you talking like a professor?” I reached for the remote, but he held it away from me.
“We care about Liverpool because they’re the best soccer team in the U.K., and I’m not talking like a professor. I’m talking like a grown-up.”
I sat back to fool him into believing I wasn’t interested in the remote anymore. It worked, and he lowered his arm.
“Well, Professor, karaoke is a prerequisite to party fun. If you had thrown a party before, you would know this. But you haven’t, so you don’t, which is why you hired me. Remember?”
“Oh, I remember.” He sat back and crossed his arms, clutching the remote in the hand closest to me. “You can get your friend Blake to do it.”
That was all the yes I needed. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to.” I scooted closer, targeting the remote. “Because he’s fun.”
“Are you saying I’m not fun?” He narrowed his eyes. “That’s original.”
“I’m saying you’d rather tell me what, when, and how to do something than sing with me, even though I know you like to sing and, in fact, have a very good voice.” I narrowed my eyes back at him and crossed my arms, all while keeping the remote within my line of sight.
“I’ve never claimed to be fun.” He shifted his weight away from me and turned the volume up on the TV. “You’ll have to go to Blake for that.”
“I’m only teasing.” I hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. “You don’t have to sing. And you’re fun in your own way.” I squeezed his arm and then seized my opportunity to grab the remote from him and hold it above my head.
“Hey!” He leaned over me to grab it, but I dug myself into the corner of the couch, holding the remote high with one hand and pushing him away with the other.
“Let me watch HGTV, and I’ll tell you something you’ll be happy to hear.”
“I’d rather take my chances overpowering you.” He poked my side right in my most ticklish spot. I tried to squirm away, but I’d backed myself into a corner. Literally. “Odds are in my favor right now,” he added as I tried not to let my hand down while also trying to maneuver away from his wiggling fingers.
By the time he got the words out, he was close to getting the remote from me. Which meant he was close. Very close. As in, his arms and hands and were wrapped around my waist. As in, his face was inches from mine, our lips close enough to touch. Kiss even.
Our eyes locked and everything stopped, except his chest, which moved in and out with each breath he took. I suppose mine did too, but I didn’t want to breathe. Breathing meant moving, and any movement might put distance between us, and suddenly I didn’t want any distance between us. Even those few inches felt like miles.
And I thought he wanted to close the gap between us. I could have sworn he leaned forward before I closed my eyes, waiting, wanting . . .
But then he cleared his throat and said, “Okay, tell me.”
I opened my eyes. He sat back and ran his hands through his hair, the muscles in his biceps flexing as he did. The heat of the moment was gone, leaving only a cold space between us. Blood rushed to my cheeks as the weight of what had almost happened hit me.
Kissing Parker would be like kissing a brother. Wouldn’t it? I’d never had a brother and wouldn’t want to kiss him if I did have one, but kissing Parker definitely would have changed our relationship. One make-out session could ruin a lifetime of friendship.
“Tell you what?” My mind had gone blank.
“The thing I’ll be happy to hear.” He rubbed his legs and kept his eyes on the soccer game.
“Oh yeah.” I handed him the remote and tucked myself back into the corner—as far from him as possible—with my legs curled under me. “I’ve been thinking about Jami’s story being like Hailey’s.” I hazarded a look at him. “You were right. I wasn’t giving her much of a chance, so I hired her to help me out with this little party I’m planning.”
“Really?” He turned his head toward me. His ears were red. “That’s very grown-up of you.”
“Thanks.” I let the tip of my mouth curve into a sarcastic grin. “Maybe I’m ready to use big words now too.”
He laughed. “No, really. I didn’t mean to be condescending. I think it’s great you’re reaching out to her. She needs it.” He handed the remote back to me. “Now tell me about this party you’re planning.”
I turned off the TV and turned to face him. “Well, first, as much as I hate to admit it, you were also right about Elton . . .”
I explained all about Elton coming back from his yoga adventures with a girlfriend and how he’d hired me to plan a meet and greet for her.
Parker scrunched up his face then laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Like a reception or something?”
“I guess. I don’t know.” Now that he was laughing, I could laugh at the whole situation too.
“And you agreed to do it?”
“I couldn’t say no!”
“Yes, you could. You just don’t know how. Practice it with me.” He reached over and grabbed my chin, moving it up and done while he said, “N-o. No.”
I swatted his hand away and laughed again. “That would have been helpful when he asked me. It’s too late now.”
He shook his head but let a smile play at his lips. I could still feel his fingers on my face even though he wasn’t touching me.
“The point is, I hired Jami to help me plan it.” I cocked my head and gave him a satisfied grin. “Are you proud of me?”
He looked more shocked than anything, but in a happy way. “Yeah. I think she’ll like that. It’s a nice thing for you to do.”
“I do a lot of nice things, FYI.” I uncurled my legs and planted them on his lap. “Plus, I couldn’t exactly ask Hailey to help me, and I don’t have time to do it alone.”
“You do, do a lot of nice things,” he said and grabbed my big toe.
“You said doo doo.” I snorted then broke into full-on laughing.
“Just when I thought you were a grown-up . . .” He shook his head sadly, but I caught his smile.
We hung out for the rest of the night, eating Cheetos (the Trader Joe’s kind, because maybe they paid their employees fair wages) and going back and forth between the soccer channel and HGTV. The next day, though, I put Jami to work finding tents, tables and chairs, and a caterer for Elton’s party while I kept working on Parker’s.
Most of the big details were taken care of, so the next item on my agenda was finding dresses for Hailey and me. She wouldn’t let me buy a dress for her, and she was too little to fit into anything I already had, so that left consignment stores. I’d never bought a used dress before, so I was stoked when we both found designer dresses with tags still on them at a quarter of the price.
“I can’t believe someone would spend this much on a dress and then never wear it!” Hailey said when she saw the original tag.
I hadn’t really thought about that before. I probably had three or four dresses in my closet that I’d bought then changed my mind about and never returned. I had a lot more than three or four of other things I’d never worn that still had tags on. It wasn’t the first time Hailey had reminded me how much I took for granted. She’d say something about never doing or having something, and suddenly I’d recognize how much I’d always had.
She did it again the night of the party. As soon as she saw Parker in his tuxedo, I thought she’d never stop talking about how good he looked. It’s not that I’d never noticed he was good-looking, I just hadn’t noticed how straight-up handsome he was until Hailey couldn’t stop gushing about him.
“Seriously, he looks like he walked out of a movie or he’s on his way to some award show. I’d marry him in that tux right now if he asked. No question,” she whispered as he walked toward us.
I nodded and smiled and tried not to laugh out loud when she fanned herself, but she opened my eyes. The black jacket tapered at his waist, emphasized his shoulders, and his crisp white shirt highlighted his naturally tan skin, making his blue eyes look even darker. The memory of how close his lips had been to mine a few weeks before came rushing back, and my heart stopped.
I mean, not literally. But by the time he made it all the way to us, my palms were sweaty, my mouth was dry, and I couldn’t think of anything to say to him. For the first time in my life, I had no words for Parker.
“You look beautiful,” he said and craned his neck to give me a kiss on the cheek without touching me anywhere else. A disappointing development because all I wanted at that moment was to feel his arms around me. He gave Hailey a hug when he kissed her cheek, so I didn’t understand why he hadn’t done the same for me.
Then he did the same thing to Jami, who walked in behind us, except her hug was even longer. And I got that heavy feeling in my gut followed by a tightness in my chest that were becoming all too familiar every time I saw them together.
“Want me to get a table?” Hailey asked, and I nodded, regretting my decision as soon as she walked away because there was nothing to distract me from watching Jami and Parker.
Fortunately Blake walked in soon after Jami, and while he didn’t look as devastatingly handsome (as they say) in his tux as Parker did in his, he looked good enough to distract me from the craziness going on in my stomach and my chest.
“What do you think those two are talking about?” Blake asked, leaning close enough for me to hear him over the guests talking and music playing, directing my attention to Jami and Parker, whose heads were inches apart. Their mouths moved and they were both smiling, but it was impossible to hear what they were saying.
I put my hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear but kept my eyes on Parker. “I don’t know. Should we have our own whispered conversation and try to make them jealous?”
Blake put his hand on the small of my back. “Let’s.” I liked the feel of his arm around me, but there was something missing . . . “Where do you think she got that dress?” Something warm . . . “It looks expensive.”
“It is.” I took my hand off his shoulder. “I can tell by the beading.”
“Maybe she has”—he put on a French accent—“a mysterious benefactor.” Then he added in his regular voice, “She couldn’t have bought it herself.”
Even as I laughed, I wondered if Parker would do something like that for Jami. He’d invited her, after all. He had to have known she wouldn’t have a dress or the money to buy one.
I watched him rub her arm. Her bare arm, because of course the dress would be sleeveless. She giggled and covered her mouth. Why was it the only time she smiled was when she and Parker were together?
The better question was why did seeing them together bother me? That question took some self-examination I didn’t want to undertake, and fortunately Taylor and Weston walked in before I had to. Blake shook his brother’s hand, and they immediately started up their never-ending football conversation. Taylor left Weston’s side to stand by me but did the exact opposite of take my mind off Parker and Jami.
“Those two are awfully chummy, aren’t they?” she asked, wagging her head toward them.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
A waiter came by with a tray of appetizers. I popped a crab puff into my mouth as an excuse not to say anything else. Taylor, however, was allergic to shellfish and had to occupy her mouth by continuing her train of thought.
“I don’t know. You know him a lot better than I do, but I think he’s into her.”
My eyes couldn’t help being drawn to them again. They were both looking at Parker’s phone, scrolling through something as they stood side by side, arms nearly touching and heads tipped toward each other.
“Parker’s not interested in anyone, especially not her.” I narrowed my eyes, willing something—anything—to put some space between them. It didn’t work.
“What’s wrong with Jami? They’re kind of cute.” Taylor grabbed a crostini from another waiter passing by, picked the olive off, and stuck the cracker into her mouth.
“Nothing’s wrong with her; she’s just not Parker’s type.” I would have handed her the whole tray of appetizers if I’d thought eating them all would have kept her from talking about Jami and Parker. Since that wasn’t an option, I headed to the bar.
“You know Parker’s type?” Taylor asked, following me.
“I just know she’s not it.” I walked far enough ahead of her to make it impossible to hear anything else she had to say over the music. I asked the bartender for a sparkling water then found the table Hailey had saved for us. I should have told her not to take one in the corner, where I knew Parker wouldn’t sit. He’d need to be in the middle of all his guests and wouldn’t be able to sit by me.
Blake, Weston, and Taylor followed me, and Taylor took the seat next to mine, sipping her drink and staring at me until I finally met her gaze. “You know what I think?”
“Do I want to know?” I replied.
“Probably not, but I’m going to say it anyway. I think you’re worried about losing Parker to someone else.” She tipped her glass and rotated it in a circle.
“I can’t lose something that’s not mine. We’re just friends.” I pressed my hand to my breastbone to relieve the sudden tightness.
“And if he finds someone, he’ll want to spend his time with her instead of you. He might even marry her. No wife is going to want her husband hanging out with the beautiful next-door neighbor, teasing her and answering her every call.” She raised her eyebrows and squeezed her mouth into a tight line, daring me to contradict her.
I couldn’t. In fact, I couldn’t say anything. The pinching in my chest had turned to a painful squeezing. I’d been tiptoeing around examining my feelings, but Taylor had come in with a scalpel and laid them all bare. I had no other option but to examine them.
Once that started, it didn’t take long for me to talk myself into a funk that lasted through dinner. It didn’t help that Parker had Jami sit by him. Blake was in his own kind of sour mood, so he didn’t even try to get me out of mine. We both poked at our food, occasionally saying something about the potatoes being too cold or the meat too done. They probably weren’t. I just had a bad taste in my mouth.
“Where’s Xander tonight?” Taylor asked Hailey, who sat on the other side of me.
“My friend Ashton is watching him,” she answered, and I perked up again. I didn’t know they were close enough for her to trust him alone with Xander.
“How’s school going?” Taylor asked.
Hailey moved the chicken around on her plate before answering without looking at Taylor. “It’s okay.” She set her fork down and looked up. “I got all Cs, so that’s good.”
Taylor gave me a look. She was the only person who knew that Hailey’s “scholarship” was coming out of my pocket. And Hailey hadn’t even mentioned her D in basic math. I thought with all the studying she’d done her grades would be higher than Cs, but I was sure next semester would be easier for her. Hopefully.
“I need to use the bathroom.” Hailey stood abruptly and bolted for the ladies’ room.
“Do you think she’s okay?” Taylor asked.
“I hope so.” I watched her retreat and hoped it was the questions she was running from and not something worse. “I’ll check on her in a minute.”
“So, does she like school?” Taylor asked, and I was tempted to bolt to the bathroom too to avoid answering her.
Every time Hailey had to go to class, she got this sad look on her face. She’d never said she hated it, but she for sure didn’t enjoy it. For a few weeks, I’d blamed her reluctance to go on being sad over Elton. But two months had passed, and nothing had changed. If anything, she disliked it more each day.
“I think she does.” I faked a smile, but Taylor’s stern look made me change my answer. “I don’t know.”
“Would she be happier doing something else? College isn’t for everyone.” Taylor prodded gently, forcing me to face questions of my own I’d been hiding from.
“Maybe. But she’ll have so many more opportunities with a degree.” I’d poured my heart into helping Hailey. If all my efforts didn’t work, what would she do?
“Maybe.” Taylor’s noncommittal answer didn’t help resolve any of the questions she’d forced me to confront. Things only got worse when she turned away from me, took a bite of potatoes off Weston’s plate and then leaned in for him to kiss her.
Seeing them so in love was another reminder that I’d not only pushed Hailey toward college, but I’d also pushed her toward a guy who was totally wrong for her. That thought spiraled into another about my relationship with Taylor. We would always be best friends, but our relationship would never be the same. From there I spiraled even further down, into depressing thoughts about Parker.
Parker had filled the empty spaces Taylor had left, but if he got involved with someone, it would be even worse than losing Taylor to Weston. Taylor may not have had a lot of time for me anymore because of Weston, but at least he didn’t feel threatened by me. I didn’t know any woman, though, who would be okay with her husband having another woman as his best friend. There’s no way Parker and I could stay as close as we were if he fell in love with someone.
His amplified voice brought me back to the present, putting a stop to my journey down the path of self-pity that could only end at Eliza, Old and Alone. He was on the makeshift stage, and I turned my chair around to face him.
“I had a special request from Eliza Woodhouse to include karaoke at this party tonight.” He scanned the crowd, and I sank into my chair. My party mood had evaporated, along with any desire to karaoke. “She told me it wouldn’t be a party without it. I’ll take her word for it while I cheer her on. Eliza, come on up.”
Light clapping and laughing was followed by an uneasy silence as I sank deeper into my chair, and Parker kept looking around the room for me.
“Eliza?” He said into the mic, color rising to his ears. Then, to my side came loud clapping and a cheer of, “Yeah, Eliza!”
I turned toward the cheering to see Blake standing with his hand out to help me out of my chair. Blake, who could always make me smile. Better yet, he could always make me laugh. Why was I worrying about Parker when I had someone else right in front of me willing to cheer me on instead of lecture me?
With Blake, I had nothing but fun. We lived in the moment, just the way I liked it.
I broke into a smile, mentally tucked away Parker and Jami, and took Blake’s hand. Taylor and Weston joined in the cheering, and pretty soon the rest of the room joined in too. Blake walked me to the stage, and I waved to my adoring fans before taking the mic from Parker.
“What’s it going to be?” he asked.
“‘Last Christmas’. Obviously.”
“Really?” One eyebrow went up. “‘Wham’?”
I responded with my own eyebrow maneuver, and seconds later synthesizer sounds filled the air while Parker tried to make his escape.
“You’re staying up here with me, right?” I said into the mic.
He shook his head and backed away from me despite the boos he got from the audience.
My cue came, and I belted out the first words to him before he could get off the stage.
Parker’s guests cheered and laughed as I moved toward him, and he quickened his retreat. His lips fought a grin, but his cheeks were bright red. If the stage had been any longer, he would have broken into a run to get off it, but he reached the step before I could serenade more than the first few lines to him.
When the song ended, cheers erupted and calls for an encore put the final nail in the coffin of my bad mood. I loved to sing, I had a pretty decent voice, and there was a microphone in my hand.
“Okay, one more, but I need a partner.” I glanced at a terrified Parker, who shook his head. I rolled my eyes. Like I’d choose him.
“Blake.” I held the microphone toward him, and it took all of five seconds for him to join me on the stage.
“What are we singing?” I asked.
“‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’,” he answered with a strange smile on his face.
I didn’t know it very well, but I found it on the list and started it. Once the words started scrolling, I understood the smile he’d given me.
“Wait a minute!” I shouted when I saw the questionable lyrics.
Blake kept singing the given lines, but to make the song less creepy, I threw in a line about #MeToo and then scurried away when the lines said something about scurrying.
Blake chased me then stopped and laughed. “I guess I’m singing both parts now,” he said and finished the song while I bolted for my seat.
“You were right to run, Eliza,” he said once it ended and I’d retreated back to my seat. “That song ain’t right.”
The crowd laughed, and he took a bow. “Do I get to choose my replacement up here?” The audience whooped their permission. I figured he’d choose Weston and Taylor, so his actual choice shocked me.
“Jami, come on up.” He held the mic out, and all eyes followed until they landed on her. Even with the lights as low as they were, I could tell her cheeks were nearly the same color as her wine-red dress. She shook her head with a slight, horrified movement, but he kept the mic pointed in her direction.
Some of the less-sober guests began chanting her name, and Blake motioned them to chant louder. I almost felt sorry for her, but I also knew she had a beautiful voice. Nancy had told me on more than one occasion about Jami’s performances in church choirs and other events. She may have been nervous, but her shy act could only go so far.
But when Parker leaned over and whispered something in her ear, which she responded to with a nod, I wished I hadn’t joined in the chanting. He stood up and held out his arm. She slipped hers through it, and they walked to the stage.
Hailey returned from the bathroom and asked, “Are they a thing?” before sitting back down next to me. I didn’t answer her, but the words I hope not trumpeted through my brain.
I swallowed hard as Parker deposited Jami next to Blake on stage but then stayed.
“Parker says he’ll sing with me,” she said into the mic. The smile on Blake’s face disappeared, even as the crowd broke into a cheer.
“‘Walking in a Winter Wonderland’?” she turned to Parker and asked. He nodded, and then they sang. Beautifully.
So beautifully they put Blake and me to shame. It was like following up a high school musical with an original cast performance of Hamilton. And they just got up and did it. They hadn’t practiced beforehand; their harmonizing came naturally. Like they were meant to be together.
I clapped with everyone else as Parker and Jami walked off the stage hand in hand, but I didn’t cheer. The thought of losing Parker had taken a step closer to becoming reality. I knew we would always be friends, but that didn’t feel like enough anymore.