“You’re right,” I say. “If he wants to sleep around, that’s fine, but he should be up front about his intentions. And with me, he wasn’t.”
She winces. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry, I’m way over it.”
After lunch, as we’re leaving, she surprises me with a hug. “I’m glad you came today. We should do it again. I don’t have many friends in the city.”
“Yeah. We should.”
I walk to the train station, regret slicing into me. I’ve missed out on friendship. All those times Presley invited me to hang out before, I could have had a real friend this whole time, but thinking I would screw it up somehow or do something stupid or embarrassing meant I had no chance at all.
Back home, I pick up the note from Eloise, shoved under the door, and read it again for the hundredth time.
You must be at work. I tried to call but your phone keeps going to voicemail. Call me?
-Eloise
The message is innocuous enough, unless you know we haven’t spoken in months. And not just months of Mondays.
I’m not sure I’m ready to face her. I don’t want her to know what a failure I am. Why does she leave me a note without knocking? Does she want to make up? Does she miss me as much as I miss her?
Maybe it’s time to bite this bullet. Soon. I’ll talk to her soon.
Chapter Eighteen
“Hey, Jane. You okay?”
I turn on the sidewalk to face Alex, his lovely face setting off an explosion of warm fuzzies in my stomach.
He’s clearly nervous. Now since I know everything that happens on this day, it’s so obvious. I was always the most anxious one in the room and it made me blind to everything else.
As soon as he’s within hearing distance, I decide to proposition him. “I’m playing hooky. Wanna come?”
His head tilts and one corner of his mouth ticks up in an adorably confused half smile. “What?”
“I’m going to explore the city. Want to come with me?”
He looks back at the building, then at me. “You’re leaving?”
I was fired. Again. But now, I’ve really given up caring about it. Like for reals this time. I don’t like this job. I don’t know why I keep trying, except it feels like I have to.
I left Hugo the costume outside his door with a note this morning, and even though the fog is heavy and things haven’t really changed for this day, I feel . . . better.
“Yeah. I’m leaving. I’m going to play tourist.”
“You know, it’s funny you mention that. My parents sent me tickets to the double-decker tour, and I haven’t had a chance to use them. I think they expire next week.”
I smile. “It’s kismet. And I could use a break. Maybe you could too.” I nudge him with an elbow.
He pauses, eyes searching for a moment before he grins. “Yeah. That sounds like fun. And on the way to get the tickets out of my glove box, you can explain to me why you’re leaving work early on a day you had an important meeting.”
I smile. “Tickets first.”
He lifts both hands. “Okay, fair enough.”
I follow him down the block to his Bronco and stop on the sidewalk, tilting my head back to gaze up at the heavy gray sky while I wait for him.
His head pops out from the passenger side of the truck. “Should we drive?”
“Let’s walk. It’s a beautiful day. There’s a stop up at the civic center.”
He shuts his door and jogs around the front to meet me on the sidewalk.
“Okay, first of all, you want to walk uphill?” He gestures in front of us. “Voluntarily?”
I laugh. “Sure. Exercise is good for you.”
He shakes his head, but he walks with me when I stride up the sidewalk. “Second of all, Karl isn’t pretty. Karl is an old gray-haired man with bushy whiskers who yells at kids to get off his lawn.”
I squint up at the gray mist all around us. “I think that’s actually an accurate description.”
“So, tell me what happened. With the meeting.”
“Oh. Yeah. I got fired.” The words fall out without effort. Huh. I remember when that was difficult to admit. Many, many Mondays ago.
He stops walking. “What?”
I stop a few paces away, turn around to face him, and shrug. “It’s fine.” I’ll be back tomorrow, anyway. If I want.
“You’re really blasé about this.” His eyes search mine and he takes a step closer. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I laugh. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
His eyes narrow. “Did you stop by the edibles place on Mission and eat some gummies before work today? Is that why they fired you?”
I roll my eyes and grab his arm, tugging him along the sidewalk toward the bus stop, moving faster than the morning traffic lurching along the street next to us. “Am I really that different today?”
“Yes. Not that you’re, you know, uptight or anything normally. It’s just, most of the time you seem sort of stressed.”
I open my mouth to respond but he rushes to explain.
“Which makes sense, since I usually see you at work. Everyone is stressed at work. I mean, it’s work.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and tosses me a lopsided smile. The gesture is familiar. He always puts his hands in his pockets when he’s nervous.
I blow out a breath. “I’m not offended. You’re right. I’m normally a wound-up ball of tension. But I guess today I just decided to . . . let go for a minute. You know? Come on, there’s a hop stop up here.”
We stand at the curb, waiting for the red double-decker bus to appear. Tourists stream around us, a family of four waiting a few feet away, a tour group of elderly people lining up behind us.
“Have you done this before?” he asks.
“Once. With my sister.”
It’s a tour bus, but with tickets, you can hop off at any of the stops to look around and then get on the next bus that comes by.
He opens his mouth
