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I take a deep breath as I check my sports watch for the numbers after my daily three-mile run. Thirty-two minutes. That’s not bad at all. If I keep this up, I might finally hit that thirty-minute mark by the end of this week. This post-run rush is enough to have me smiling for the rest of the day, even though things are a bit rough for me at the moment. But I strongly believe that you’ve got to make it through the rain if you’re ever going to see a rainbow. That rainbow is waiting for me. I feel it in my toes. First, I have a job interview lined up this afternoon. If they hire me, I won’t have to worry about my financial situation anymore. And who knows? Maybe I’ll meet a cute male colleague and finally find my happily ever after.
Still on a runner’s high, I stop at the local bakery and marvel at the cakes Harper from Sweet as Cake whipped up today. She’s extremely talented, and her creations are as sweet as she is. Every now and then, I treat myself to one of her cupcakes, like today.
I have my hand on the door handle, ready to go inside and order a cup of coffee with a slice of carrot cake, when the door hits me in the face.
I cry out in pain. My hand flies up to my nose, but there doesn’t seem to be any blood.
“Oops, sorry. I didn’t see you there. I was looking at my phone. Important work stuff, you know.”
The high-pitched voice of the girl who let the door hit me in the face sends a shiver down my spine.
I look up to see my suspicions about the owner of the voice confirmed. It’s her. In the flesh. Macie Macintosh, Trout Creek’s prom queen and the nail in my coffin back in high school. What is she doing here? I thought she’d moved to the city years ago.
“Hello, Macie,” I say.
She finally drags her eyes from her phone and gives me a proper look. Or, I should say, a once-over that brings all my insecurities to the front of my mind.
“Boxy Roxy? Is that really you?” she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief.
I ball my hands into fists after hearing that horrible nickname and swallow. “It’s Roxy.”
She laughs as she flicks her long hair over her shoulder. “Of course, sorry. Old habits and all that. I would ask you what brings you here, but I guess that’s obvious.”
“Obvious?”
“Yeah, because of the cupcakes. You used to indulge in sweet treats all day every day when we were younger. By the look of it, you still do,” she says, her gaze lingering on my curvy thighs.
I decide to take the high road and ignore her comments about my weight. “What brings you back to Trout Creek, Macie?”
Her face lights up. She splays her hand and shows me what is unmistakably an engagement ring. The diamond is so big that it could blind a person.
“I’m getting married,” she squeals. “Can you believe it?”
Honestly, I can’t believe any guy would want to marry a self-centered, arrogant person like Macie, but the ring on her finger tells me I’m wrong.
“And who is the lucky guy?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes as if I’m the dumbest person on the planet. “Bruce, of course.”
“Really?”
“Well, duh. We’ve been together forever. Getting married was always part of our ten-year plan. We graduated from the same college, moved in together the next year, and now we’re getting married. We’ll probably have a baby in about two years.” She smiles dreamily. “We’re right on track.”
Wowza. It must be weird to have your whole life planned out like that. It surprises me that a guy like Bruce goes along with it. Back in high school, he was a jock and a big partier. I never considered him the kind of guy who would settle down and start a family by his mid-twenties.
“Anyway, I’ve just ordered our wedding cake. We’re having the ceremony by the lake, and every guest gets a box full of cupcakes with their names on them. Isn’t that the best?”
I try to muster up a smile, but all I want to do is to run away from Macie. She’s even more of a cliché than I thought.
“And you should see the flower arrangements for the reception. Wait, I’ll show you.”
She scrolls through her phone and forces me to swipe through thirty pictures of flower arrangements.
“Dad got me a great deal on the flowers. The lady who owns the flower shop got an amazing divorce settlement thanks to my father, so she owed him big time. I work there now, by the way.”
I frown. “At the flower shop?”
“No, silly, at Dad’s law firm. I’m the Front Desk Manager.”
“So you’re the receptionist?”
She shakes her head. “There’s more to it than you think. It’s not only connecting calls and asking people to wait before their meetings. I also do other stuff.”
I’m afraid to ask about the other stuff because I don’t want to scroll through another photo dump. Better safe than sorry.
She purses her lips. “What about you? Still single?”
“I, um—”
“There’s no shame in never having been kissed, Roxy,” she interrupts me. “I’m sure it’s probably not your fault.”
Probably? Jesus Christ, this girl is unbelievable. I can’t tell her I’m single. I won’t give her that satisfaction.
I square my shoulders. “Actually, I’m not single.”
“Really? You’re seeing someone?”
I nod. “Yup. That’s right. I’m in a steady relationship.”
“Are you bringing him to the high school reunion?”
I swear I notice the corner of her mouth turn up as if she doesn’t believe me and wants to see me scramble for words.
“I don’t think I’m going to that.”
“Why not? Come on. It’ll be fun. You must come. And bring your boyfriend.”
“He’s not into that kind of thing.”
“You know what’s weird? That I haven’t heard a thing about you and your boyfriend. My mother knows all the latest Trout Creek gossip. And now you won’t take him to the reunion. Hmm.”
Shit. I’ve cornered myself. What do I do? My eyes flit left and right. I act on the spur-of-the-moment, regretting the words as I utter them. “That’s weird because I do have a boyfriend. We’re nuts about each other. In fact, he works over there.”
I point at Creek Ink, the tattoo shop across the street.
She frowns. “You’re dating a tattoo artist?”
“Yup,” I lie. “I was just about to go over there. He’s inking me today as a sign of his love for me.”
She whistles between her teeth. “Wow. You? A permanent tattoo? You surprise me, Roxy.”
I look at my watch. “Is that the time? I’ve got to go. Great running into you, Macie, and good luck with the wedding.”
“I’ll see you at the reunion,” she says.
“Yeah, see you then.”
I hastily cross the street and almost get run over by a car. The driver honks his horn and angrily waves his fist at me.
I look over my shoulder, hoping the coast is clear, but Macie is still standing there, waving at me. For fuck’s sake, why won’t she let this go? I was about to pretend to step inside, but I guess I have no choice but to go in now that she’s still watching me.
I take a deep breath and swing the door open, nerves racing through me. This is the first time I’ve set foot in a tattoo shop.
I close the door behind me and turn around. My breath catches in my throat. I didn’t know what or whom I expected to see in here, but it certainly wasn’t a muscled tattooed hottie wearing nothing but a pair of jeans.