Never the Bride by Rene Gutteridge Page A

me. “You didn’t embarrass me, but I am worried about you. You just seemed very unfocused.”
    “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
    “Sweetie,” she says and comes in for a hug, “I’m just so worried about you. You don’t seem like yourself.”
    “I know.” I lightly tap her on the back and then head out of the bathroom. She scurries after me.
    “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, hurrying up beside me.
    “Yes, but I can’t. You wouldn’t understand.”
    “You always say that, Jessie. But I think you’d be surprised if you just shared it with me.”
    I reach my desk and sit down. Nicole leans over the counter, looking at me. Should I tell her? I can’t. I don’t know how to explain it. “This place, Nicole, is good for you. You love what you do and you’re good at it. But it’s just a job for me, you know?” Much better reason than explaining how God was pacing the boardroom.
    She nods. “I think Mr. Coston senses that and wants to give you more responsibility. That was what this morning was all about.”
    “And I blew it.” I reach for chocolate but think twice. I’d hate toswell today and have to deal with
that on
top of everything else. I tend to swell more when I’m stressed.
    Nicole smiles at me. “It wasn’t as bad as you think.”
    I lean back in my chair and put a hand over my face. “No. I’m sure I came across as endearingly abnormal.”
    Nicole laughs. “You’re always endearing, my friend. No matter what. Listen,” she says, reaching all the way over the counter and straightening the stapler for me, which I thought was very nice, “I’ll talk to Mr. Coston, okay? Tell him to give you another chance.”
    “You are the best!” I lean forward and squeeze her arm. “But that’s okay. I don’t want you to have to wipe up my messes for me.”
    The strange thing about it, though, was that messing up the presentation didn’t seem like that big of a mess—which got me to thinking.
    And that can be dangerous.

six
    Malia’s store looks a little empty. All the candy is half off, and I’ve got an arm full of assorted dark chocolates as I make my way to the checkout. The day after Valentine’s is truly along with Easter and Halloween, the best time to buy candy.
    I’m relieved to have made it past Valentine’s Day again, though perhaps not with my sanity intact.
    I heave my candy onto Malia’s counter. She chuckles.
    “I can always count on you to help relieve my inventory.” She holds up a discounted Valentine’s card I’ve picked out and raises an eyebrow. “Something you want to share with me?”
    “No, not at all. You know how I like to buy cards for my future husband.”
    “How many cards do you have for him?”
    “Oh, you know, I don’t keep count.” Fifty-two. I lean on the counter. “So, I’ve got a crazy idea.”
    She looks up at me with a big smile. “Yeah?”
    “What if I rented space from you and opened a little business?”
    She looks intrigued but not sold. “What kind of business?”
    “A sort of consulting firm. For men. On how to make the perfect proposal. A mind-blowing proposal. I’d help them plan the whole thing, and that would hopefully bring more gift-giving, lovesick, paying customers into the store.” I eagerly rub my hands together. “So, what do you think? Can I move in?”
    Malia squeals. Don’t be alarmed. She’s a squealer at all things exciting. She squeals at babies and small animals and good hair days. She reaches over the counter and pulls me into a hug.
    “I love it! Oh, sweetie, I’ve been wanting you out of that dead-end nine-to-fiver for so long! If it means I get to keep you all day—” Malia stops. “You’re turning pale.”
    It doesn’t surprise me. I feel the blood draining out of my head.
Quit my
other job? I hadn’t thought of that. I was thinking more like a supplement
to
my job. I look at Malia, who is frozen between elation and hesitation. She’s watching me to determine what she should do