I really don’t want to be a bitch but I also don’t want to stand here all night either. It’s a simple question but the waitress had to get the head waiter who had to find the manager. And now I’m standing outside the ballroom they rented for this stupid staff party listening to everyone toast my ex and the woman he had an affair with while they celebrate their engagement.
I text Shelby and ask if she can swing back and pick me up. I don't think I'll be able to get a cab anytime soon. Silver Bay doesn't have any of them, and on a night like New Year's, they'd be hard to wrangle.
“I probably have to ask my manager,” the manager tells me. “They’re not on tonight so it means calling them at home.”
“I thought you were the manager,” I question, trying not to sound as annoyed as I am. I just want to make sure it’s okay to leave my car in the parking lot overnight. I don’t need it impounded.
“I’m the assistant manager,” she informs me like I’m an idiot for not knowing that. “I report to the general manager.”
“Okay, you do that and I’m going to use the restroom.” I point to the women’s restroom door sandwiched between the two event rooms. Without waiting for an answer I head across the hall and push open the door.
And my heart sinks.
“Oh my God, can you believe how lucky Heather is,” someone is saying in a sing-song voice. “I think it’s so amazing the way Beckett and Heather found each other again. High school sweethearts who found their way back to each other. It’s perfect!”
I turn to walk out of the small room but both the person who talking, a blonde who I think is a pediatric nurse like Heather, and the person she is talking to have turned their attention to me. It would be weird to walk in, do nothing, and walk back out, right?
“Sorry, Mackenzie, we’re hogging the mirror but the stall is free if you’re here to tinkle,” the other one says and I think her name is Cindy. She’s a resident like me but in cardiology like Beckett.
I nod and slip past them into the stall. I pray to the universe and any and all deities that the two of them have vacated by the time I get out of here. I would also sell my soul for them to be quiet. But apparently, the devil isn't interested in my offer because they keep talking.
“I feel like I’d rather be with Beckett’s brother Emmett, but I’m happy for Heather,” Cindy says.
Emmett Echolls is the youngest of the three siblings. He was drafted last summer and plays for… I forget. I was at the party to celebrate it though because I was still with Beckett. Their dad acted like Emmett had won the Nobel Peace Prize. I had never heard him praise Beckett, who was about to become a doctor, like that.
“That’s because you’re a puck bunny,” the blonde laughs at her own dig.
“I grew up in this town, it’s like a non-negotiable,” Cindy laughs too, unoffended. “And why wouldn’t you want a hot, athletic man who makes buckets of money? I mean sure, they cheat a little sometimes, but that can happen in any profession.”
The stall is cramped and it smells like chemical cleaner and it’s giving me a headache. My bladder is drained and I’ve stood up but I’m just standing here because if I flush I have to go out there and stand next to them. Ugh.
“O.M.G.!” Cindy squeals out the abbreviation. “Mackenzie! Wait a minute. Heather said you’re dating a hockey player. A freaking Garrison!”
She emphasizes it like you would a type of shoe. Not just heels but Jimmy Choos! Dear God, kill me now. I stifle a sigh by flushing the toilet and unlocking the door. When I get outside I jostle between the two of them to get to the sink and give them the vaguest non-answer I can think of. “That’s the word on the street.”
The blonde whose name I still do not know is glaring a little. Enough that I notice. Cindy though, in her own professed puck bunny-esque fashion just wants to hear about Conner. “How did you land yourself Conner Garrison. He’s probably the hottest of all.”
“I…” Oh boy. I don’t want to lie. The whole charade is over anyway.
The door to the bathroom swings open and of course, it's Heather. How could it be anyone else in the universe at this point? She stops abruptly, the door clipping her shoulder as it swings shut behind her and she winces. "I thought you left."
“I did. I just… I’m going now.” I quickly run my soapy hands under the water which is like ice but I don’t care.
“Cindy was just grilling her about Conner.” The blonde rolls her eyes.
Heather folds her arms over her chest and purses her lips like she smells something vile. I pull my soaking hands from the water and give them a shake before wiping them on my coat because I am definitely not standing here another minute to use the hand dryer.
“I’ve known Conner since we were kids.” The door swings open again and Shelby bumps into Heather. Great. It’s a freaking convention in here. But at least I have a way home now. “But we aren’t dating.”
“Oh honey, I’m sorry,” Cindy says immediately and she sincerely means it. Her big brown eyes are genuinely sympathetic. “Those Garrison boys are notoriously easy to lay but hard to hold down. My friend Diana has been on-and-off and off-and-on with Tate Garrison for two years now.”
I have no idea who Diana is but I’m not about to ask. “We were never dating. It was… a joke. We’re just friends.”
“Come on, Mac.” Shelby waves me over, a gentle smile on her lips.
“Wait…” The blonde looks confused. “I thought you cheated on Beckett with him?”
“That’s what she said,” Heather pipes up. She’s channeling some major Regina George vibes right now. “You lied? About dating Conner? What kind of person does that?”
"Well, Heather, I'll tell you," Shelby says as I reach her and she holds open the door for me to get the hell out of here. "The type of person who is not nearly as bad a human being as the one who fucked someone else's boyfriend for over a year. Happy fucking new year!"
Shelby spins and hooks my arm and marches me the hell out of the golf club. And I let her. My car might get towed for leaving it in the parking lot overnight without permission, but I’d rather deal with that than stay here a minute longer.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
We’re halfway home before either of us speaks. Shelby is the first to break the heavy silence. “You didn’t have to confess about Con, you know. You could have told them you were madly in love. He would have kept up the lie with you. Con’s always up for a good prank, especially if it’ll burn an Echolls.”
I sniff. I’ve managed to keep the tears at bay but I’m emotionally exhausted. “The whole thing had kind of backfired anyway. People were whispering that I was the cheater. I want that title to land solely on Beckett. And besides, Conner has a lot to deal with right now. I don’t need to add fake girlfriend to his list.”
“I don’t know… I think he enjoyed the distraction,” Shelby says thoughtfully as she turns up the road that leads to my apartment. “I think he liked you.”
“Ha!” It bubbles out of me before I can stop it.
Shelby snaps her head to stare at me, red hair glinting copper in the moonlight spilling through the windshield. “Why are you laughing at that?”
“Because we’re not… I’m not his type,” I croak and the tears are stinging the back of my eyes again. Fuck.
"Why? Because you're a little bit older than him?" Shelby questions. "He doesn't care. No one would care. He's the oldest twenty-five-year-old I know. Always been an old soul that one and a bit of a curmudgeon sometimes."
I think of the flashes of Grumpy Con I’ve seen in our brief but intense time together. Shelby keeps talking as she pulls to a stop in front of the barn. “And you guys have busy lives separately, but you’re both dedicated to the things that you want, which means you’d be dedicated to a real relationship if you decided to go for one.”
“A relationship?” I say the word like it’s something scandalous and unimaginable. Because it really is, at least to me. “No. Seriously. Not with us. No. But thanks for what you said back there. I should have said it myself but… I just…”
She reaches across the seat and wraps her arm over my shoulders, giving me a makeshift hug. “Always Mac. Sometimes you need someone to have your back, and I’ve got yours. Conner does too.”
I smile because it's all I can muster and climb out of the car. I wave goodbye. Conner may always be there to fool around with or be a fake boyfriend but that's all. This will never be more. My fifth-grade teacher's condescending tone rings in my head.
'You, Mackenzie have always been and will always be a have not, not a have. And the sooner you accept that the better off you'll be.'