Sixteen
Jack is still asleep—seriously, bastard—when I slide out of bed the following morning. I dress in jeans, my stolen Captain America hoodie, and Uggs; grab my laptop; leave a note for Jack on the kitchen counter; and head out.
I need to see all of this—numbers and commitments and a real business plan—in black and white. It’s the only way I’ll truly be able to make an informed decision, the only way I can finally put the whole thing to rest. Or dive in headfirst.
Walking over to Café Regular, I purposefully pass by the storefront one more time. Not much has changed since the night before, obviously. The windows are still smudged, a For Lease sign still propped inside. The brick is still hipster and cool. And even though I can’t see it, the outdoor space is still practically begging for a garden.
I let the sight of it fuel me, ordering a large vanilla latte and holing up at a table in the corner, ready to hunker down for the day.
The morning is filled with numbers and research and figuring out how much it costs to have employees. Once I have an estimate for monthly expenses, I break it down by week, and then by day. I use that number to figure out how many arrangements I’d need to sell each day and how much they’d need to be priced at. I price out utilities, and taxes, and health care, and décor. And as much as I’ve never regretted leaving my career in finance, I’ve never been more grateful for it.
After googling a hundred examples of successful business plans, I make edits and adjustments to the original one I wrote for Bridge and Blooms to include the storefront and all the new numbers. It’s probably a little sassier than needed, but I figure anyone who’s going to write me a check for a couple hundred grand should know what they’re getting themselves into.
Around noon and latte number three, my phone buzzes.
JACK: I don’t want to interrupt you while you’re in the zone, just wanted you to know I’m around if you need anything.
His words make me smile. It’s still kind of mind-blowing how he’s able to tell exactly what I need in any particular moment. Whether it’s space or silence or a hug, it’s like he can see inside my brain and determine how best to soothe me. If this is what having a boyfriend is all about, I’ve been missing out.
But something tells me Jack is not your average boyfriend.
ME: Thanks, babe. I’m probably going to be out for a couple more hours, but I’ll let you know when I’m heading home.
JACK: Sounds good. You’re killing it, sweet pea.
ME: Thanks, Jackpot.
ME: And yes I know, I’ve used that one before. Can I help it if I feel like I won the boyfriend lotto, aka the Jackpot?
JACK: Shit. That was sappy as hell.
ME: This is what you’ve done to me.
JACK: I like it.
ME:
I tuck my phone back in my purse so I’m not tempted to spend the rest of the day exchanging flirtatious texts with Jack. Instead, I read over all my documents and spreadsheets again, before compiling them in a file and emailing them over to Nick. I find him on G-chat so I won’t be tempted by my phone.
ME: Hey. I just sent you a whole file of shit. Can you look at it and tell me what you think?
NICK: Is this about the storefront?
ME: Good god, are there no secrets among us anymore?
NICK: Gem told us the other night and Jack mentioned it this morning.
ME: Jack mentioned it? How so? What did he say? Is he trying to finagle something?
NICK: Oh my god, chill. He just said you guys found a cool space last night but that you seemed really against him giving you the money.
ME: I’m not taking his money.
NICK: If you wanna throw away $200k from a man who is clearly beyond when it comes to you, not my place to try and change your mind.
ME: See, the way you phrased that makes it seem like you want to change my mind.
NICK: I’d take his money.
ME: That’s because you’ve always had money and you don’t know what a serious power imbalance it’d create in our relationship.
NICK: Yeah yeah. It’s free money.
ME: It’s not free.
ME: I really like him, Nicky. I don’t want to fuck this up.
NICK: I don’t want you to fuck this up either.
ME: Thanks for the vote of confidence. Can you look everything over please?
NICK: Yeah, give me an hour.
I spend the hour doing more research. All right, much of said research happens on Pinterest, but it still counts. Trying to find the cutest DIY ways to spruce up the shop is a 100 percent productive use of my time.
My phone chirps almost exactly sixty minutes after our conversation.
NICK: Is there any way you can set up an appointment with the Realtor for this afternoon? I’d like to meet you both there, take some pics, add them to your business plan so I can pass it along to some people.
ME: Um, yes?
ME: You think it’s ready for that? You think I’m ready for that?
NICK: I’m not gonna lie, it’s a risk, but I think you’ve got a solid presentation and an opportunity for decent profit. Let me know when to meet you.
Two hours later, after running home to change into something less college finals week, I meet Nick and Kristen back in front of the store. Before she even opens the door, Nick peppers her with questions, and this time, I actually listen, making note of utilities and décor restrictions and permit requirements.
Nick snaps photos as we walk and talk, jotting down notes, and once even pulling out a measuring tape to check the numbers. After a quick but thorough inspection of the outdoor garden, Nick asks Kristen to give us a minute. She’s already got her phone pressed to her ear as she makes her way back out front.
He doesn’t say anything for a minute, flipping through the pages of my business plan on his iPad screen.
I shift my weight from one foot to another about a hundred times before I finally can’t take it anymore. “So? What do you think?”
He looks up from his screen, giving me a soft smile. “I think you should go for it.”
“Really?” Based on my morning of numbers and calculations and projections, I know a profit is a ways off, and certainly not guaranteed. But it definitely boosts my confidence to hear it’s possible from someone who knows what he’s talking about. “And you think you might have some people who could be interested? I think we’re going to have to move fast or this place is going to get snatched up.”
“I’m sure I could find someone.”
“Okay. Can we get that ball rolling, like today preferably?” Now that I’ve made the decision, I need this place to be mine. My brain has latched on to all the possibilities and I want contracts signed and keys in hand.
“I could. But I’m not going to.” He crosses his arms over his chest, like he’s preparing for a standoff. “Let me do this with you, Sade.”
I open my mouth to list all the reasons why it’s a terrible idea.
“Stop. Just listen for one minute, okay?”
I glare at him, but I purse my lips and tap the nonexistent watch on my wrist.
“This is a good investment. I spent the afternoon double-checking your numbers, and everything checks out. You know I’ve always had plans to invest in some small businesses, and if I’m going to invest this money in someone’s risky idea, why shouldn’t it be yours?” He drops his hands, placing one on my shoulder. “I know you want to say no, but—”
“Of course I want to say no, Nicky. Not because I’m not grateful or because I don’t trust you, I just worry about what this could do to our friendship if things don’t work out.” Losing Nick might actually be worse than losing Jack at this point, he’s been a staple in my life for so long. And even if I trust Nick implicitly, which I do, there are no guarantees in business. My old job burned that lesson in my brain. Would he hold it against me if I ended up losing his money?
“Nothing could ever change our friendship. You mean way more to me than money, Sadie.” He gives me a little shake. “I have the means, you have the idea. You’re family. Let’s do this together.”
Ugh. He had to go and pull the family card. He knows how I feel about that. Nonetheless, it works. Because the pro side of going into business with one of my best friends might be even stronger than the con side. Why shouldn’t I take this opportunity to put the fate of my business in the hands of someone I trust? Someone I know will always have my back and my best interests in mind. Someone I know will never screw me over or betray me.
But I can’t let him win this too easily. “If—and that’s a big if—I were to agree, you’d be acting as a silent partner. Emphasis on the silent.”
“Not like you’d let me get a word in anyway.”
“And friendship comes first. Always. If shit starts to get weird, either I’m buying you out or I’m finding someone else to buy you out.” Because the thought of anything coming along and busting up our fearsome foursome is unacceptable.
“I can live with that.” He starts tapping away on the iPad, like he’s drawing up the contract as we speak.
“What’s your number?” I hold my breath, even though I know he’s going to be more than fair.
“Two hundred for twenty percent.”
“Fifteen.” I hold out my hand.
“Done.” Nick clasps my hand in his, giving me a firm shake before pulling me in for a hug. He then gives me an actual noogie. “I would’ve taken ten.”
I push him away from me. “I would’ve given you twenty.”
For a minute we just look at each other, grins of disbelief wide on our faces. Then Nick heads out front to talk to Kristen, and I stand in the center of the empty space that’s now mine. My store. My business.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Until the closet in the back of my brain cracks open and that mostly-shoved-away negative talk starts to creep out.
You think you can do this?
There’s no way you can do this.
You could never accomplish something like this.
“Sade, let’s go.” Nick waves me out the front door, closing up the shop and my inner voice behind him.
Kristen promises to have contracts in our email by the end of the day, and as long as nothing weird comes up, keys should be in my hands in two weeks.
We wave goodbye, and I practically skip along the sidewalk. “Nicky, you just signed up to be tied to me for life. How does it feel?”
“I’m sure you want me to make some kind of sarcastic retort about how I’m already in a deep state of regret, but I’m not doing that. I’m pumped. You’re going to rock the shit out of this, and I’m happy to be along for the ride.”
“Silently, of course.” I combat my bitchiness by looping my arm through his.
“Of course.”
We reach the brownstone a minute later—hello, best commute ever—and jog up the front steps.
I’m all set and ready to bellow my usual greeting, but as soon as I open the door, I hear a cork popping. One of my all-time favorite sounds.
Gemma, Harley, and Jack are waiting for us in the kitchen with champagne and cheers. We all pile in for a big group hug, and after a toast and the clinking of glasses, I pull Jack off to the side.
He runs his thumb over my cheek. “I’m so proud of you, sweet pea. You’re going to kill it.”
I lean up for a quick kiss, head and heart equally bolstered by his continued faith in me. “You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” His brow furrows.
I smooth out the wrinkles with my finger. “Because I wouldn’t take your investment, but I took Nick’s.”
He loops his arms around my waist. “Are you happy, Sadie?”
I bite my lip to control the insane grin threatening to take over my face. “I literally have never been happier.”
“That’s all that matters to me, sweet pea.”
The keys to the storefront are placed in my grabby hands five days before Christmas. The whole group is there with me to celebrate, Gemma streaming the whole exchange on my Instagram. My followers are already asking for renovation updates, and the store transformation is going to be social media gold.
The following couple of days consist of cleaning and painting, two of my least favorite things, but necessary steps in order to be ready for the good stuff that’s to come after the holiday. I do a fair amount of online shopping, trying to find repurposed and upcycled pieces for the store. And I draw up a preliminary plan for the back garden, mapping out what blooms I want to go where. I’m going to turn part of BaBs into a mini greenhouse so I can start germinating seeds in January, and I need to figure out which kinds of flowers will be the best bang for my buck.
It’s a whirlwind couple of days, and I’m happy to take a break with the rest of the crew on Christmas Eve. Christmas itself is one of the few holidays we don’t usually spend together. Gemma heads home to Virginia for the Kwon family celebration. Harley and her parents usually travel out of town the week between Christmas and New Year’s. And Nick’s presence is required at his grandmother’s under threat of losing his trust fund.
For me, Christmas means Chinese food and vintage Real Housewives, and luckily when I present this plan to Jack, he wholeheartedly signs off.
We arrive home at the brownstone late on Christmas Eve, after spending the evening at Gem and Harley’s place, stuffing our faces with Italian food and drinking a fair amount of wine. The cold night air sobered us both up quite a bit during our walk home, and as soon as the front door closes behind me, Jack has me pressed up against it, his mouth covering mine. No two of Jack’s kisses are ever the same, and this one is devouring.
“Merry Christmas,” he says when he finally pulls away.
I have to catch my breath before I can respond. “Merry Christmas.”
He gives me a wicked grin. “Should we do presents now?”
“Um, yes. Obviously.” I agonized over what to get Jack because hello, what does one buy for the nerd who has everything? But I found the perfect gift when I was pillaging a nearby antiques shop, and I’m desperately excited to see his reaction. Also slightly terrified. “I need you to open yours first, though.” As cool as my gift to Jack is, I’m 99 percent sure he’s going to upstage me.
He kisses me on the cheek before heading over to the living room sofa. We’ve set up a small tree in front of the window, and since we just got back from our main holiday gathering, only one present remains under it. “That’s fine. Yours is upstairs anyway.”
“Are you going to paint me like one of your French girls, Jack?” I throw a saucy wink over my shoulder.
“Well now I am, yeah.”
I pick up the small wrapped package and hand it to him before sitting at the opposite end of the couch. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Please do.” He looks at me for permission, and when I nod, he rips into the paper like a little kid with no self-control.
And I wonder how long it’s been since Jack received a Christmas present. I squeeze my eyes shut for just a second to hold back the sudden spring of tears. And then I force them back open, not wanting to miss the expression on his face.
Jack tosses away the paper, running his hands over the green-leather-wrapped book cover in his hands, his fingers tracing the title, The Fellowship of the Ring, embossed in gold. He looks up at me as if asking for confirmation.
“It’s not a first edition or anything, but it’s an early one, and to be honest, I had no idea what to get you, and I saw this one day when I was out and I thought you might like it. And you were wearing a Lord of the Rings shirt the first time we met, which, not going to lie, I seriously judged you for, but then it kind of seemed like finding this was a sign, and I really hope you like it.”
“It’s perfect, Sade.” He flips open the cover and a small piece of paper falls out.
“I, um, wanted to give you a little note, but I figured it might be blasphemous to write in the book itself.” I hold my breath as his eyes take in the two-word phrase I’ve written. He doesn’t say anything for a really long time, and my heart drops to my stomach. “It means—”
“I know what it means.”
“Oh.” Now my stomach is being punched. Repeatedly. By a heavyweight boxer. “Would now be a good time to give you shit for knowing how to speak Elvish?”
“I don’t know how to speak Elvish. Just this phrase.” He still won’t look at me, eyes glued to the three-inch strip of paper like it contains the secret formula for eternal life. “My mom used to say it to me.”
“Oh shit. Jack. I had no idea.” I start to move closer to him but then think better of it since he probably wants some space. I try to scoot back to the corner, but he clasps his hand around my wrist, pulling me into him. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, reaching for the paper. “Let me just throw it away.”
Jack tucks the slip back into the cover of the book, setting it on the coffee table. “I love you too, Sadie.”
My heart full-on stops beating in my chest. “You do?”
“Of course I do. This is the best present anyone has ever given me.” He takes my hips in his hands, shifting me fully into his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist.
I dig my fingers into his curls and bring his lips to mine, this kiss soft and gentle.
“Say it, Sadie. Please.” He murmurs the words into my mouth.
I put a small amount of space between us, so I can look directly in his eyes, which are darkening to the shade of the Christmas tree behind us. “I love you, Jack.”
His lips find mine again, insistent and breathless. My hips roll against him; he’s already hard beneath me.
“I hope you know me well enough by now to know that I’m not going to forget about my part of this present exchange.” I punctuate my words with a line of kisses along his jaw.
He breaks away from me with a grin. “Yeah yeah.” He stands, cupping his hands around my ass to lift me with him.
I slide down, place a quick kiss on his lips, and gesture for him to lead the way. He takes me up to BaBs. He’s been spending more and more time up here lately, and I’m sure there’s a part of him that will be happy to see me turn the space over to him once the store is finished.
He takes me over to the left side of the room, where his easels and supplies are set up. The three paintings he’s done of my arrangements are lined up under one of the big windows. They still take my breath away every time I see them.
Jack places me directly in front of a tall easel, the entire thing covered with a large gray drop cloth. “Sorry it isn’t wrapped, but I just finished it yesterday and it needed time to dry.”
I wave my hands in a Who cares motion. Because really, who cares?
“You ready?”
I nod, clasping my hands together in anticipation.
Jack slowly and carefully pulls the cloth away from the easel.
And I just stare.
And stare.
And stare.
Dashing the heels of my hands in my eyes and blinking away the wetness blurring my vision, I take a step closer. It’s a painting, obviously. And I might be biased, but it’s quite possibly the most beautiful painting I’ve ever seen.
Which sounds really egotistical, because the subject of the painting is me. I’m standing in the middle of a typical New York street, the Brooklyn Bridge looming behind me. My body faces the bridge, and I’m looking over my shoulder at whoever is viewing the painting, a teasing smile on my face. But it’s not the bridge or the street or even me that makes the painting breathtaking. It’s that the dress I’m wearing is made purely of flowers. Hundreds of them, the texture so detailed I can almost feel the velvety petals. They wrap around my bare back, trailing down into a train that spills over the bottom half of the canvas.
It’s absolute perfection.
“Bridge and Blooms,” I breathe when I finally manage to make my voice work. I’ve stopped trying to stem the tears, letting them flow freely over my cheeks.
“Bridge and Blooms.” Jack steps over to me, taking one of my hands in his. “Do you like it?”
I choke out a laugh. “Do I like it? Jack, this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And not just because it’s me. That’s like the least beautiful thing about it.”
He takes my other hand and pulls me into his arms. “Not sure I agree with that assessment, sweet pea.”
I turn my cheek, resting it against his chest so I can stare at the painting some more. “Talk about the best gift ever.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it.” I tilt my head up to kiss him. “And I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Ugh. We’re making me nauseated.” I pull away from him a little, a wicked glint in my eye. “I did get you something else, though.” I run my hands through his curls before dragging them down to his chest.
“Really?” His hands slide down to my hips, pressing them into his.
“I got tested two weeks ago. All clean.” My fingers slip under the edge of his button-down shirt, traveling up his back.
His breath catches in his chest and he hardens against my belly. “Oh yeah?” The two words come out in a hoarse gasp. “Me too. I mean, it wasn’t two weeks ago, but I’m clean. Also clean. Totally clean.”
I bite my lip because he’s adorable when he can’t form a coherent sentence. “And I refilled my birth control prescription while I was there.” I move my hands around to his stomach, lightly tracing his lean abs.
His hips press into mine. “Please tell me this means what I think it means.”
I let my hand wander down to the front of his jeans, cupping his length in my palm. “Shall we head downstairs?”
He grabs my hand and tugs me out of the studio.
We practically fly down the stairs and into my room, Jack shutting the door behind us and pressing me up against it in a repeat of his earlier move from downstairs. The urgency is hot and desperate, but his kiss is slow and consuming. He links our hands together, bringing them above my head while his hips thrust into mine until I whimper.
I break free of his hold, my fingers rapidly working through the buttons of his shirt, pushing it down his arms and trailing my hands over his shoulders and up through his curls. He tugs my sweater over my head, pausing for a minute to admire my fanciest bra, which I donned in the hope we would end up here. He lowers his head, licking along the lace edges before sucking my nipple through the sheer fabric.
His mouth moves down farther, softly licking and nibbling the skin of my stomach, and he cups my ass in his exquisite hands before his nimble fingers unbutton my jeans and slide the fabric down my legs. His lips embark on a northward exploration, kissing me everywhere as he makes his way back to my mouth.
My hands travel to the front of his jeans, palming his hard length once again, delighting in the growl he releases, rumbling against my lips. I move to unbutton his pants, but he nudges my hand away.
“Not yet,” he mutters into my neck. His arms reach around me and he unhooks my bra, his fingers teasing and pinching me as I toss it to the floor. His tongue replaces his fingers, licking and sucking until my hips thrust against him. It’s frantic and breathless and hot as fuck.
He lowers himself to his knees in front of me, hooking his thumbs in my panties and dragging them down my legs, helping me step out of them. He kisses his way up until he is right where I want him most. One of my legs gets thrown over his shoulder and then his mouth is on me, licking up my center, swirling over my clit.
My head falls back against the door, and I grasp onto the knob, anything to keep me from collapsing to the ground as he devours me. The fingers of my free hand tangle themselves in his curls, and I can’t seem to stop my hips from rolling against his mouth. As soon as he slips a finger inside of me, my nerves explode and I cry out my release.
Jack rises, catching me before I fold to the ground. He places soft kisses along my collarbone and up my throat, finally landing back on my mouth. This time when I move to undo his pants, he lets me, kicking them off as we stumble over to the bed.
I yank back the comforter, and we fall onto the sheets, which are cool against my heated skin. We lie facing each other, legs intertwined. Jack cups my face in his hands, kissing me like it’s the first time.
And this time, the buildup, the tension, the explosion, happens inside my chest. Lying here, face-to-face with Jack, both of us completely bared to each other, is a feeling unlike anything else I have ever experienced. This man is completely burrowed deep in my heart, and I know in this moment, beyond anything else, that I will love him forever. The certainty hits me just as strongly as that mind-blowing orgasm did, and the aftershocks linger far longer. When the ripple of emotions subsides inside me, I pull Jack on top of me.
He dots kisses over my cheeks and eyelids, along the edge of my jaw and down my throat.
I reach between us, taking him in my hand and wrapping my palm around his hardness. I guide him to my entrance. “Do you still want this?”
His lips brush against mine. “More than I can put into words. Do you?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
He buries his face in my neck, his laughter tickling me. And then he’s pushing into me, slowly, inch by inch.
Once he’s fully seated inside of me, I hold him in place for a minute, bringing his lips to mine, kissing him deeply. I release my hold, and he rolls his hips, slowly, tauntingly, until my body is tight with tension.
“Fuck, Sadie. You feel so good.” He drops his forehead to mine as his pace increases, his thrusts stroking me harder and faster.
I clutch on to his shoulders, wrap my legs around his waist. “I’m close,” I breathe out, my hips bucking up to meet his.
Jack’s fingers slip in between our bodies, caressing my sensitive spot. The combination of sensations is overwhelming, and a minute later, I’m calling out his name, tightening around him as my body explodes in release once again.
He shudders his own release a minute later, burying his face in my hair and muffling his groans. His hips continue to roll slowly, as we both come down.
Jack props himself up on his elbows as we catch our breaths. He pushes a stray strand of hair behind my ears, his fingers tracing down along my jaw. “I really fucking love you.”
I laugh, pulling him down for a quick kiss. “I really fucking love you too.”
We collapse, lying flat on the pillows, my leg thrown over his, our fingers interlocked.
A few minutes later, Jack rolls onto his side, tugging me onto mine so we’re face-to-face. “Not to totally kill the vibe or anything, but I can’t really let tonight pass without telling you how much the past month has meant to me. It probably goes without saying that the holidays haven’t been the easiest time of year for me since the accident.” He cups my cheek in his hand. “This is the first holiday season in a long time when I felt like I had a family.”
I tilt my head up to kiss him, scooting closer into his embrace. “When I was deciding where to go to college, New York stood out among the rest for a particular reason.”
He runs his fingers through my hair. “And what was that?”
“I felt like New York was where people came to make their own family. And that’s what I wanted more than anything. More than money or a degree or a good job. I wanted to make my own family.” I meet his gaze, a waterfall of emotion mirroring my own.
“You made a damn good one, sweet pea.” He kisses my forehead, tucking my head into his chest.
“And it’s yours now too, Jackpot.” I wrap my arms around him, burrowing into his warmth and falling asleep.
On Christmas, we swap out the vintage Real Housewives marathon for a stay-in-bed-and-have-lots-of-sex marathon. Jack throws on a robe to grab the Chinese food delivery, but it’s the only time either of us puts clothes on throughout the day.
The following day is when the real work on Bridge and Blooms will begin, and so I relish this day of so-called rest. The hours we spend cuddled under my covers, the feel of Jack thrusting inside of me, the laughter and the giggles, and eating leftover pie and drinking wine in the center of my bed like it’s a picnic blanket.
It’s the best Christmas I’ve ever had.
HARLEY: How is everything coming with the store? I can come by this weekend to help!
ME: That’d be great!
ME: A bunch of furniture is getting delivered on Friday so this weekend is going to be all about layout.
HARLEY: Awesome, Nick and I will be there!
NICK: Whoa. I don’t remember signing up for this.
HARLEY: We need your muscles, babe.
ME: Also, it’s in your best interest to help out, remember?
NICK: I seem to recall you placing a lot of emphasis on the silent bit in “silent partner.”
ME: Yeah, we need you to silently move stuff while we tell you where to put it.
JACK: Nick. Please come. Save me.
NICK: Fine, but I’d like it noted for the record that I’m showing up for Jack, and only Jack.
ME: Yeah yeah. You love each other, we know.
GEMMA: We’ve been back in school for two days and I already hate my life so I’ll be there but only if I can drink while we work.
NICK: Yeah, that’s a huge liability so that’s gonna be a no.
GEMMA: What happened to silent?
JACK: I’m bringing you dinner, what do you want?
ME: You don’t have to do that, I’m almost done, swear.
JACK: Yeah, I know how that goes. Almost done means two more hours.
JACK: Did you eat lunch?
ME: I had a bag of pretzels and a Gatorade, which totally hits all the main food groups.
JACK: . . .
ME: Pizza sounds amazing, thanks, babe!
JACK: I’ll see you in twenty minutes.
ME: Could you also bring a level? I’m trying to hang some shelves.
JACK: You got it.
ME: And now that you mention dinner I’m kind of hungry. Could you also get a salad? And cheesy garlic bread?
ME: And maybe some cheesecake?
JACK: Already ordered all of that
ME: God you’re amazing. You’re so getting laid tonight.
JACK: Lol. We both know you’ll be asleep before your head fully hits the pillow.
ME: You’re probably right. Fuck. Sorry.
ME: I’m like the worst new girlfriend ever. Sorry I’m such an asshole.
JACK: Stop talking about my amazing, determined, driven, funny-as-fuck, super-hot girlfriend like that.
ME: I love you.
JACK: I love you too. See you soon.
ME: Hi, friends! Sick of me yet?
ME: Don’t answer that!
ME: I promise the madness is almost over. But I could really use your help on Saturday. It should be the final push!
HARLEY: I’m in!
HARLEY: So is Nick
JACK: I’ll be there, obviously.
GEMMA: If this is ACTUALLY THE LAST ONE then of course I’ll be there
ME: Yay! You guys can meet Lucy, Bridge and Blooms’ first official employee!
GEMMA: What are we, MySpace?
ME: Sorry, Bridge and Blooms’ first paid employee!
ME: And I promise to treat you all to dinner and drinks when we’re done!
NICK: I think you mean dinner and drinks until the end of time.
ME: SILENT partner.