Faking Ms. Right: A Hot Romantic Comedy (Dirty Martini Running Club Book 1)
Faking Ms. Right: Chapter 32

“Everly?”

I heard Nora’s voice through the door, followed by three sharp knocks.

“Everly, are you in there?”

“Come in.”

The door opened, but I couldn’t see Nora. There were too many boxes in the way. The movers had dropped off my stuff yesterday and I still hadn’t lifted a finger to put anything away.

She peeked around a stack of brown boxes. “Ev—oh god. Hazel, it’s worse than we thought.”

Nora tiptoed into the room, like she was afraid to touch anything. Hazel was right behind. They both looked around my apartment, vague expressions of horror on their faces.

“Stop judging me,” I said.

It was a ridiculous thing for me to say. They should definitely be judging me. I was in an old pair of pajamas that I’d been wearing since I got home two nights ago. My hair was in a messy knot on top of my head—and not the cute kind of messy. I hadn’t put any makeup on in days, but somehow I still had mascara flecks on my cheeks.

I was surrounded by the shameful evidence of my post-breakup pity-fest. A box of chocolates, a bite taken out of each until I found the two that I liked. A half-empty ice cream container, the remnants a soupy mess. A litany of sad love songs played from my Bluetooth speaker—I’d found a breakup playlist on Spotify—and I’d started at least five poems in a spiral notebook I was now calling my poetry journal.

Nora pinched the top of a pizza box and looked inside, wincing. “Everly Dalton, what the hell?”

“How long have you been home?” Hazel asked, eying a stack of self-help books I’d dug out of the depths of my dusty bookshelf.

“I came back Tuesday night.”

“You did all this in less than seventy-two hours?” Nora asked. “Why didn’t you call us sooner?”

“I wasn’t ready to face you yet.”

“Oh honey.” Nora picked up a box of pink hair dye. “Really?”

“I didn’t use it.”

“Thank god.” She tossed it over her shoulder.

“Not yet. I’m waiting until after my hair appointment.”

Nora made a pained noise. “Hazel, do you mind taking notes? I don’t want to forget to cancel Everly’s hair appointment.”

She already had her phone out. “I’m on it. Which salon, Everly?”

“You’re not canceling my hair appointment.”

“Of course I am,” Nora said. “I don’t trust you to do it, and I would be a terrible friend if I let you go through with a breakup haircut. I fell down on the job when it was Hazel and we all know how that turned out.”

“It took me a year to grow out those bangs,” Hazel said.

“Trust me, Everly, now is not the time for rash hairstyle decisions. You’ll only wind up with a lot of pictures that you’ll regret. And they’ll be on social media where they never, ever go away.”

“I barely even use social media.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Tell you what, if you want to go pink, we’ll do something temporary, like some clip-ins or chalk.”

I groaned, pulling my knit afghan around my shoulders. “I don’t care about the pink.”

“Okay, but we need to make some progress here,” Nora said. “Otherwise, you’re going to be in the wallowing stage for months.”

“It’s been less than three days,” I said. “I can still wallow.”

She sat down on the edge of the couch near my feet and squeezed my leg. “Yes, you can. And we’re all going out to get breakup drunk tonight. But maybe let’s wallow in clean clothes.”

“Everly, I still need the name of the salon,” Hazel said.

“Red X on Capitol Hill,” I mumbled.

Nora rubbed my leg. “Do you want to tell us what happened now, or should we go get drinks?”

“It’s morning,” I said.

“Do you remember who we are?” Nora asked. “Breakfast drinking is why they invented bloody marys and mimosas.”

“Good point. But I drank some wine last night and I don’t think I’m ready for more alcohol yet.”

“How much wine did you drink?” Hazel asked, picking up the empty bottle.

“Yeah, that.”

“Just the one?” Nora asked.

I nodded. “But I didn’t use a glass.”

“Oh lord,” Nora said. “Okay, honey, just tell us what happened.”

I took a breath. “Shepherd found out about Annie wanting me to ask him to be her sperm donor. She’d given me the contract and I still had it in my desk. He found it.”

“Ouch,” Nora said. “But, hold on, I thought you’d already decided you weren’t asking him.”

“I did. A while ago.”

“Thank goodness. There was no way that wouldn’t have been weird.”

“I tend to agree,” Hazel said.

“I know, it would have been weird. Worse than weird. And I already told Annie and Miranda, and they’re fine with it. But Shepherd found out and he was really upset. And then he announced that Richard broke up with Svetlana and said that meant our reason for being together was over.”

“He did not,” Hazel said.

Nora lifted her eyes to the sky. “Oh, Shepherd.”

“He did. He told me I could stay until I felt better, but he wouldn’t be there. I tried to explain, but he said every woman he’s ever dated was only with him because they wanted something, and he thought I was different. Then he left.”

“And you came here, obviously after a trip to the store to get supplies.” Nora held up a bottle of self-tanning lotion. “Please tell me you didn’t use this yet.”

I held up my hands. “Do my palms look orange? No. You’re supposed to exfoliate first.”

“Oh, Everly,” Nora said. “Honey, you’re a mess.”

“Should we check her internet history?” Hazel asked.

Nora pointed. “Absolutely. Everly, there better be nothing but porn from the last few days.”

“What? Why?”

Hazel grabbed my phone and turned off the music.

“Because if you’re looking at porn, at least you’re doing something that’ll help. Your body could use some orgasm endorphins.”

“I don’t even like porn.”

“That’s because you need to replace some good lady porn. I can help with that.” She turned to Hazel. “What’s she been googling?”

“Meditation retreats, solo travel for women, world’s saddest love songs, and egg freezing services.”

“Egg freezing?” Nora asked.

I crossed my arms. “On the off chance I do get married someday, it’s probably going be well after I’m fertile. What if I still want kids and I can’t have any by then?”

Nora lifted the bottom of my pajama pants and rubbed my leg. “Woman, did you stop shaving?”

“Why bother? I’m just going to keep going on an endless string of awful dates until I give up and accept that I’m doomed to be alone forever. I might as well save myself the agony and quit now. I might try again in another twenty years, in which case I’ll be very glad I froze my eggs.”

“Okay, that’s it.” Nora grabbed my hands. “We’re going out. Mimosas for breakfast. Martinis for lunch. And then, I don’t know, we’ll see where that takes us. But we’re getting you out of the house. After you shower, obviously.”

“I can’t go out. I have a phone interview this afternoon.”

“Already?” Hazel asked. “Did you quit your job?”

“No, although I’m probably fired. I haven’t been there in days. But the interview doesn’t have anything to do with breaking up with Shepherd. Is it breaking up if we were fake-together? Anyway, I got an email about a job opportunity and they asked if I’d be interested in a phone interview. Shepherd knew about it. I told him before everything blew up in my face.”

“What did he say?” Nora asked.

I fiddled with the holes in my afghan. “He said that if it seemed like a good opportunity, I should go for it. That he didn’t want to lose me, but he’d support me if it was what I wanted.”

Hazel and Nora shared a look.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing,” Nora said. “But if you have a phone interview this afternoon, we need to get you cleaned up.”

“Why? It’s over the phone.”

“Unless you replace out at the last minute it’s a Skype call and you have to show your normally pretty face,” Nora said.

She had a point. If Cameron Whitbury saw me like this, the interview would be over before it started. And now it looked like I needed a new job.

My eyes filled with tears. New job. No more Shepherd.

Hazel and Nora turned me so they could sit on either side. Then they put their arms around me and let me cry.

I sobbed for a while, knowing I was making myself look worse. But I had to get it out. My friends hugged me and stroked my hair. When I calmed down, Nora got me water and tissues while Hazel pressed a cold washcloth to my forehead.

Sniffing, I wiped my eyes. “You guys, there’s a part I haven’t told you.”

“What’s that, honey?” Nora asked.

“It wasn’t fake. I fell in love with him. I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I did.”

They both squeezed me again.

“That was actually clear to both of us a while ago,” Hazel said.

Nora rubbed my back, murmuring her agreement.

“Why did I let this happen? Why did I have to go and fall in love with someone who doesn’t love me back? I should have known better.”

“Shepherd acted like a dick, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you,” Nora said.

I tossed a used tissue on the mess that used to be my coffee table. “Um, yes it does. He basically kicked me out as soon as his dad dumped Svetlana.”

Nora and Hazel gave each another look—one of those we’re secretly communicating something looks.

“Will you two stop that? I’m not done wallowing.”

“You can keep wallowing after your interview,” Nora said. “You go shower. We’ll clean up out here. Then we’ll go get some brunch and coffee to perk you up so you’re ready.”

“But you and I are still drinking mimosas, right?” Hazel asked.

Nora nodded. “Naturally.”

I grabbed another tissue and wiped my nose. “All right, I’ll pull it together, but just for the interview. Then I’m wallowing again.”

“Breakup pity party, table for three is on the agenda for tonight.” Nora leaned closer and sniffed me. “After you shower.”

Hazel and Nora stood up and each grabbed one of my hands to help peel me off the couch. I shuffled into the bathroom, avoiding the mirror, and turned on the shower. I still felt awful—the ache in my chest refused to go away—but having my friends here to help me pick up the pieces of my heart and glue them back together was priceless.