Bridesmaid Undercover: An incredibly steamy, hilarious, friends to lovers, love triangle romantic comedy

EVERLY

“What did Jude say?” I ask as I take a seat across from Maggie, my boss, at The Bean, our daily meeting place since our new office has been under construction.

“He said ten more days. Then everything should be done, and we’ll be ready to move in.”

“Really?” I ask as I blow on my coffee before taking a sip. “That soon?”

“Yup. I was just as surprised. He said he’s been putting in some work himself, making sure all of the trim and touch-up painting is done to his standards.”

I shiver from the thought of Jude walking through the office space, his construction manager shaking in his boots as Jude examines every last inch of the place. “I bet those standards are impossibly high.”

“From the way he spoke, I’m assuming the same thing, but I’m glad we have him on our team.”

“Me too.” I set my mug down. “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

“Well, we have a meeting with the florist today for the McCormick wedding. Right after, we head to Pier Heaven to go over table arrangements for the Barton wedding, and this morning, we have a meeting with Hardy Hopper.” I feel my body go stiff from the mention of Hardy. “And then we have some meal plans to look over, playlists to plan, and we need to finalize those ad copies and brochures.”

“Busy day,” I say as I clear my throat. “Uh, what’s the meeting with Hardy Hopper?”

“He emailed me and says he has a client for us, wants to talk to us about it. A Bridesmaid for Hire client. Unfortunately, I have to take a phone call when he’s here, so I was hoping that you could head up the conversation with him. Since this is your branch of the business, I thought that it would be okay?”

“Oh yeah, sure, no problem,” I say as nerves trickle up the back of my neck. I wish I would have known sooner so I could feel more prepared.

I remember the first time I met him in person. It was after Maggie came home from the Hopper wedding. She was distraught and thought she was going to have to shut down her business thanks to Reginald Hopper and his menacing ways. But Hudson, Hardy, and Jude had other plans. They showed up to The Bean like knights in shining armor, ready to lift us up rather than tear us down.

They offered Maggie an opportunity—really, an investment, their investment—and she jumped on it. Not only was she able to keep her thriving business, but also now her dreams of owning a storefront are about to come true. The storefront is going to offer us more space, a place to hold meetings, storage and so much more.

So yeah, the Hopper men aren’t only easy on the eyes and brilliant businessmen, but they’re dream makers as well.

“Perfect. Thank you.” She marks something in her notebook, most likely checking off the task: Spoke to Everly about meeting with Hardy Hopper. I’ve given her some hints on organization and keeping track of all her tasks. She was pretty good, but since she hired me, she’s phenomenal. “Okay, well, he’s going to be here any minute, and I’m going to take my phone call in the booth over there if that’s all right with you. When we’re both done, we can head on over to the florist together?”

“That works,” I say.

She smiles. “Great. Thanks, and let me know how the conversation goes. This could be our first Bridesmaid for Hire client.” She crosses her fingers, and I hold mine up as well.

When she takes off toward the booth, I flip to a new sheet of paper and consider writing a header at the top: Hardy Hopper Meeting. But that seems a little much, especially since he would be able to see me take notes, which then makes me wonder, should I take notes at all?

Maybe not.

But…I always take notes.

Would he read the notes that I’m taking?

Would he question them?

What if there is only one thing that he says that is noteworthy, then what? He sees me write down one sentence and then nothing else, leaving me with an almost complete blank page?

Would he judge me for that?

Do I care if he judges me?

Of course, I care.

I care a lot about what he thinks of me for many reasons, the main one being that he invested in Maggie and I don’t want him thinking that she hired some one-sentence notetaker.

No, I should just commit everything to memory even if that goes against my nature.

No notes.

But…

Would he think I’m being irresponsible by not taking notes? You know those waiters or waitresses who take your order but don’t write it down? And it’s a long order, one with details, and all I can think is…are you going to remember? They always do, which is impressive in itself, but I do have my doubts—because I’m a notetaker.

So am I overthinking this?

Should I take the notes, or should I not take the notes?

“Hey, Everly.”

My body stiffens from the sound of his deep voice, and my eyes shoot up just as Hardy leans down and presses a soft kiss to the side of my cheek before taking a seat.

Good.

Freaking.

Lord.

I don’t miss the subtle brush of his beard over my sensitive skin.

Or the distinct scent of his cologne clinging around me.

Or the sheer masculine presence he has as he takes the seat next to mine, not across from me.

“How’s it going?” he asks, looking so incredibly handsome in a blue and orange plaid long-sleeve shirt, puffy vest, and jeans. His hair is playfully messy, and his light-blue eyes pop against his sun-soaked skin and dark-brown hair. His carved jaw is coated in a thick beard, and his lips look so well moistened that I feel myself staring at them a touch longer than I probably should.

But it’s not just his looks that has me feeling like I could lean into him and have the best hug ever. It’s his effortless charm. His smile. His caring heart that he has for everyone around him. He knows the difference between right and wrong, he uplifts rather than crushes, and he is a pioneer for not only entrepreneurs sifting through the world of capitalism, but he is also a champion for women in business. I know this from the way he treats his sister and her independence from their family, and from the support he’s offered Maggie.

He’s the perfect package.

Everything about him.

Perfect.

I smile, trying to disguise my nerves from sitting this close to him. “Doing great. What about yourself?”

“Pretty good.” He brings one of his legs up and crosses his ankle over his knee, casually leaning back in his chair just as a server brings him his cup of coffee. He offers her a breathtaking smile as he says, “Thank you very much.”

The girl’s cheeks flush—don’t blame her—as she says, “You’re welcome,” and then takes off.

“So.” He brings his attention back to me. “What are you drinking?”

I glance at my drink and then back up at him. “A caramel mocha. I try to distract my tastebuds from the taste of coffee as much as I can.”

“Chocolate and caramel is a good combination to go with.” Ugh, he’s so handsome, just look at those dimples trying to peek past his beard.

“What are you drinking?” I ask, feeling so weird because this is such a casual conversation that I would never imagine having with someone who owns a billion-dollar business with his brother. Well, is it a billion dollars? Maybe, who knows. I know they have a lot of investments, but who can be sure? He has a lot of money—let’s just leave it at that.

“Been liking this almond milk vanilla latte lately. Pretty good.”

“Oh, nice. I think that wouldn’t be much of a disguise for my tastebuds.”

He shakes his head. “Definitely not. I think you would need a lot more than the hint of vanilla syrup and frothed up water-soaked almonds.”

“Probably,” I answer. “And are they even Hopper Almonds?”

“I glanced at the milk they’re using…” He leans and whispers, “It’s not a company we work with.” He holds his fingers up to his lips in a hush-hush kind of way, which makes me chuckle.

“Drinking the enemy…how does that feel?”

“Not like a Hopper Almond, that’s for damn sure.” He sips his drink and then smacks his lips. “Yeah, you can tell the Hopper standard isn’t in this secreted almond.”

I try to hold back my smile but I can’t, as I’m completely charmed by him. “And what would the Hopper standard be?”

“Well, high-quality filtration during the pulp removal process for one, and then of course, clearly, no one is smiling at these almonds and that’s a key ingredient to a great-tasting almond, the smile.”

“Oh, is that right?” I ask. “You smile at your almonds?”

“Not just me, all of the staff. From the beginning part of pruning, to removing the husks, to cracking open the shells, and safely cleaning the kernels, there are smiles all around, all day.”

“I can see how that would produce a happy almond.”

He sips his coffee again and then winces. “Yeah, you can taste it immediately. These competitors are all frowns.”

I chuckle and pick up my mug. “Maybe you should try to speak to the manager, get them on your side.”

“Perhaps…” He nods. “Perhaps I will.”

God, he’s cute.

And funny.

And easy to talk to.

Like I said, the man is perfect.

“So,” he says, “shall we get down to business?”

“Of course, not that I want to stop you from educating me about your almonds, but Maggie told me you might be in need of our services.”

He nods and grows serious. “Yes, my friends Polly and Ken are getting married and, well, their maid of honor is a bit overwhelmed and out of her comfort zone with the responsibilities. I know she wants to be able to do this for Polly, but she needs some handholding. I told them about Bridesmaid for Hire, and Polly was very interested. I told her that I’d feel you guys out and then set up an intro if it’s a good fit.”

“Well, first of all, thank you. We’re just getting this portion of Magical Moments by Maggie up and running, so this means a lot to already have someone interested.”

“Of course,” he says. “Maggie did so much for Haisley that it’s the least we can do.”

“Well, actually, she wouldn’t be heading up this side of the business, it would be me. I hope that’s okay.”

“I know that,” he says and winks. “I took a gander at the business proposal. I know from what Maggie has said, you can handle this effortlessly. She even told us that you’re the backbone for the business.”

I feel my cheeks blush. “Thank you,” I reply. “I’m very lucky to have such a great boss.”

“She’s pretty awesome. Haisley also speaks very highly of you.”

“Well, Haisley is a force. She’s changing the business, and I love everything she’s doing, so the compliment from her means a lot.”

Lots of pleasantries, but that’s how business is sometimes, talking each other up and building that trust in one another. Also, I’m not going to shy away from the compliments, especially from Hardy.

“She’s a good sister to have.” He smirks. “As for specifics, I think Polly would be looking for someone to almost be a mentor for her maid of honor, someone to help her navigate everything, to bounce ideas off of, and to help with any setup and planning that she might be responsible for.”

“That’s not a problem at all. That’s what we’re here for. We can assist in planning, managing the events so she can attend to the bride, and of course, be there for any needs.”

Hardy nods. “I think that would be perfect, exactly what she’s looking for.”

“Great,” I say. “Well, if you think this could work, I would love to have a conversation with Polly.”

“She’ll hire you on the spot, guaranteed, especially if I give her my approval.”

I press my hand to my chest. “That would mean a lot, Hardy.”

“And hey, if it goes well, this might lead to more business. Both Polly’s and Ken’s families are very wealthy with a huge network of friends who would likely find your services very helpful. Could be a great jumping-off point.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. Thank you.”

“Of course,” he says. He lifts up his coffee, sips it, but keeps his eyes on me the entire time, as if he has something else he wants to say to me.

Cutting to the chase, I ask, “Is that, uh, is that everything?”

He scratches his cheek and then stares down at his coffee. “Not exactly.”

“Oh? There’s something else you want to talk about?”

“Yes, but it’s sort of awkward.” He shifts uncomfortably, which I find endearing, because normally this man is very sure of himself, confident, doesn’t seem to have a worry at all. But from the tense set of his shoulders and the transition in his expression, I can tell there’s something on his mind.

“That’s okay,” I reply. “I deal with a lot of awkward things on the daily. Being in the event planning industry, you wouldn’t believe the number of weird things I have to take care of. So feel free to lay it on me.”

“Okay,” he says and then turns to face me. We’re no more than two feet apart, so when those baby blue eyes settle on me, I remind myself not to get lost in them, to not openly sigh from just how mesmerizing they are, especially from the way they play off the stark contrast of his nearly black lashes.

Let me tell you, it’s a challenge.

“So, I’ve been doing some thinking lately.”

“Okay, what kind of thinking?” Jokingly, I add, “You don’t want to join the wedding planning business, do you? Or better yet…be a bridesmaid for hire?”

He chuckles. “Imagine what that might look like, all decked out in tulle and lace, possibly a bow fastened in my hair.”

“You very well might steal the show from the bride.”

“Trust me, if I was in some sort of satin getup showing off my man-cleave, I would be stealing the show for sure.”

I let out a cackle that is far too unattractive for my liking, but the imagery…

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” he asks. “Seeing me in something satin?”

I shake my head. “No, I think I’d prefer you in chiffon.”

“Keep your fingers crossed, and it might just happen.”

“Well, until that magical moment, what is this thinking you’ve been doing?”

He twists his mug on the table. “With Haisley getting married, Ken and Polly planning their wedding, and seeing how happy Brody and Maggie are, it has me thinking that I want the same thing.”

His eyes meet mine, and I feel my stomach bottom out because…oh my God, is he…is he going to ask me out?

“You, uh…you want to marry someone?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, I want to start dating.”

Be cool, Everly.

Tread carefully. If he asks you out, don’t joyously suck his face after giving a resounding yes.

Give it some deep thought and then nod.

Ponder the question, don’t hop on his lap and bury his face in your cleavage as an acceptance.

“Dating, well, that is always fun,” I reply, trying to stay calm.

This is my moment.

Sure, I’ve crushed on him for a few months now, even imagining what it would be like to hold his hand and walk down the pier—him looking down at me like I’m the only girl in the world and me looking up at him, knowing damn well he’s the only guy in the world that gives me butterflies.

And perhaps I’ve scoured the internet for pictures of him, preferably with his shirt off, and I’ve come up short, but that hasn’t deterred me, it’s only spurred on my craving even more.

But given all of that, I need to not show my cards.

Keep the crush under control.

Let him ask you.

Then, cooly, with a possible hair flick, respond with that would be cool…

“In all honesty, I haven’t done it in a long time.” He pulls on the back of his neck in this cute, shy way.

It’s okay, Hardy. I’ll walk you through the process of dating. I’ll hold your hand.

“It can be intimidating, but with the right person, I’m sure it’ll be easier than you think,” I say.

“Yeah, the right person matters,” he says, his eyes matching up with mine. “Which brings me to my question.”

“Yes, your question,” I say leaning in just a touch. You know, show him I’m interested so he isn’t too nervous.

Come here. Everly will take care of you, you hunk of a man.

“Well, I was hoping you could help me.”

Remember how to date? Why yes, of course. I’d be more than happy to.

I heard sex on the first date is an absolute must in today’s modern dating circuit.

“Of course, anything you need,” I say.

“I’m glad you said that, because, well, I hope I’m not too forward in asking this…”

As a matter of fact, Hardy, I’ve been waiting for you to ask, so please, by all means…ask away.

“But I was hoping you would be able to help me…”

Date you? Of course.

Remind you how to hold hands? I’m there for you.

Kiss those beautiful lips of yours? Don’t mind if I do.

“Get to know my ex-girlfriend again.”

“Of course, I would love to,” I say with the biggest smile, only for my mind to register exactly what he said.

Wait…

Did he?

Did I…

He said what?

“Really?” he asks.

Errr…

I nervously laugh. “Uh, yessss…” I drag out as my mind takes two large steps back to recount his exact wording.

Did he mention his ex-girlfriend? Is that what he said?

“Fuck, that’s…that’s amazing. Thank you, Everly.” He leans back in his chair, looking positively relieved as I still try to understand what the hell is going on.

I take a sip of my coffee, trying to reset my brain before saying, “Your, uh, your ex-girlfriend?”

“Yes.” He pushes his hand through his hair. “I failed to mention that she’s Maple.”

“Who’s Maple?” I ask, feeling clueless.

“Maple,” he says as if I’m supposed to know this. From my blank expression, he adds, “The maid of honor we were talking about.”

Oh.

Dear.

God.

Maple is his ex-girlfriend?

The girl I’m supposed to mentor?

The girl I’ll be spending a lot of time with for the unforeseeable future as I show her how to be the perfect bridesmaid?

This can’t be real.

Why would I say yes to this?

Oh, that’s right, because you thought he was asking you out, you freaking nitwit.

“Oh, that Maple,” I say awkwardly, following it up with a laugh and a dismissive wave of my hand. “She’s your ex, sure, makes sense.”

Does it though?

What are the odds?

Pretty high with my luck, apparently.

“Yes, we all met in college,” he says. “Polly, Ken, me, and Maple. Maple and I dated for three years and then ended things when we found that we both were going in different directions for our careers. And now that her job has brought her back to San Francisco and we’ll be spending some time together, I figured it would be a great chance to try to rekindle some things.”

Yup, that sounds about right.

Why wouldn’t he want to rekindle old feelings with someone he shared three years of his life with back in college? I’m sure he misses the good ol’ days. I’m sure he has a lot of wonderful memories from that time in his life. I’m a year out of college, so I don’t quite understand that kind of nostalgia. I would rather have my big toe slammed in a door than revisit a college relationship, but maybe that’s just me.

“How, uh, nice…that you’ll be in the same city as each other.”

“First time in ten years.”

“Ten years, huh?” I shake my head. “That would put you in your thirties, which means yeah, you’re probably ready to settle down.”

His smirk nearly makes me faint face-first into his lap. And what’s really sad about all of this is I would gladly poke my eye out with his crotch.

Smell that desperation? It’s deplorable.

“You say that as if being in my thirties is a bad thing.”

“Nope, I like an older man,” I say, but then catch myself. “I mean, not that I like you. I wasn’t saying that in regard to you and me, more like…just in general. Men as a whole. Not you, because that would be weird, right? Eck, gross, not you and me. Never you and me. Forever and ever, never you and me. I meant just, like the olds, the silver foxes, the men with experience, but not you…never you.”

He scratches his jaw with a smile. “Well, can’t hear that enough.”

“I wasn’t trying to insult you, I just⁠—”

“I’m kidding, Everly.” He places his hand on my shoulder, probably to soothe the tension that has skyrocketed through my bones. But unfortunately for me, all his warm palm and long fingers do is make me stiffer in all areas…stiff and throbby.

Yes…throbby.

Because I have no self-control around him and even though he wants to rekindle a relationship with this Maple chick, who I’m sure is a beating heart of beauty and joy, I still feel like the old crone in the corner, clearing the cobwebs out from between her legs after a simple touch from the man with the devilish eyes and kind smile.

“Of course, right, you’re joking. You’re very funny.” I wag my finger at him, hating myself more and more with every up and down flick.

He studies me for a moment. “Are you okay? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“What? No, of course not. Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” he says. “But I feel like you’re acting weird, and I hope it’s not because of something I said. Or that I caught you off guard.”

“Not at all. This is me being excited,” I say for some stupid reason. “I love love, so if I can help out in any way, I’m your girl.” I thumb toward my chest like a live action Little Orphan Annie. “So sign me up. You need help. I’m your girl.”

“You sure?”

No.

Actually, remember that toe in the doorjamb thing? I would rather do double toes. Yeah, you read that right. Two toes being slammed by a door rather than suffer through getting Hardy back with his ex.

I couldn’t think of anything I would rather do less.

“Positive,” I answer with a smile. “Just, uh, just one question.”

“What’s that?” he asks.

“Well, since you’re a seasoned man in his thirties who, though admittedly out of touch with the dating world, does seem to have a level of charisma, what would you require from me as an assistant?”

“That’s one way to ask a simple question.” He laughs but carries on. “Here’s the thing. We ended things amicably, but there might be a hint of bitterness on her end. At least, from what Polly keeps saying.”

“Oh?” I ask, intrigued as to how this perfect specimen of a man could elicit any sense of bitterness toward him.

“The thing is, she was studying zoology and animal sciences. Her main goal was to become a zookeeper for flamingos.” Huh, did not see that coming. Not every day you run into someone who wants to take care of animals for their life journey. She sounds amazing already, which does not bode well for me. “And, well, she couldn’t really follow me when it came to a job, so I had to follow her. I told her I would, but when my dad asked me to head up the agricultural side of Hopper Industries, I felt like it was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up, especially since my relationship with my dad was already rocky at best. I didn’t go to the school he wanted me to go to, and I was the one who gave him the most pushback about his business practices. I felt I could make an impact, so I had to go back on my word to Maple. We both decided to break up, even though she’s the one who started the conversation. We hugged and went our separate ways. Though I reached out on occasion, she didn’t do the same.”

Uh, yeah, because Mr. Perfect wasn’t going to be following her around like he promised. I think I’d be bitter too.

“I see, and she’s said she doesn’t want anything to do with you?”

“Polly told me she just wants to be left alone, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still have feelings. I would approach her myself, but Polly told me to stay away, and I want to respect that, but fuck…if there’s something still there, something I could rekindle, I’d be open to doing that, especially since she’s moving back.” He lets out a deep sigh and sinks into his chair. “If Polly and Ken can break up but find love again, why can’t Maple and I?”

Well, isn’t that just the nail in the coffin of my unrealistic dreams?

Tacking on a smile, because I can’t believe I’m about to say this, I reply, “I guess only one way to find out, right?”

He grins brightly. “You’re really down to help me out?”

“Of course, Hardy.”

“Thank you, Everly. This means a lot to me.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do.”NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

He sits taller now and says, “Okay, let’s go over your approach.”

“You said yes?”my sister, Ember, screeches into the phone.

I set my purse down, hang my keys, and take off my heels before carefully putting them in my hall closet where I have all my shoes lined up perfectly.

“What the hell was I supposed to say?” I ask as I move into my quaint kitchen that’s comprised of one countertop that shares space with the cooktop and sink. I pull out one of my premade dinners from the fridge, set it in the microwave, and heat it up.

“You were supposed to say, ‘this is an unprofessional ask and I’m uncomfortable helping you get back together with your ex because in fact, I’m in love with you.’”

“I’m not in love with him,” I say, irritated. I walk into my bathroom where I put the phone on speaker and set it on the counter as I undo the tight bun I put my hair in this morning. I shake out my long strands and let my scalp breathe. “And I…I answered before I knew what I was answering.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

I wet one of my reusable makeup removers and then start taking my makeup off. “I don’t want to say.”

“Uh, now you have to say.”

“Really, I’m okay with keeping it to myself.”

“That’s not how this works—you call me, you tell me.”

I work on removing my mascara, wondering why I called my nosy sister in the first place. “Fine, but don’t judge me.”

“Not making any promises.”

Such a loving sister. “Okay…well, the way he phrased things, I was thinking that maybe he was going to ask me something else.”

“And what was that something else?”

“I don’t want to say,” I reply as I hear the microwave beep, indicating my broccoli and beef is done warming up.

“Then how the hell am I supposed to help you if I don’t know all the facts?”

“I wasn’t looking for help from my big sister—I was looking for sympathy.”

“It’s as if you don’t know me at all,” Ember says as I lean down to the sink and splash water on my face before lathering my hands up with soap. “Do you really think I would sit here and listen to this story only to offer sympathy?”

“I hoped,” I say in between splashes of water.

“You’re wrong. I never just offer sympathy and I will never change, so stop trying to make me.”

I chuckle as I dry off my face. “I’ll never stop trying.”

“You’re wasting your time,” she says. I lay out my skin care serums and start applying as she continues, “So tell me what you thought he was going to ask so I can make this all right in the world.”

“I don’t think there’s a way you can make this right, but, because I know you’re not going to drop this, I was thinking that he was going to possibly ask me out.”

There’s silence for a moment and then, “Are you serious?”

“Yes, and don’t make fun of me, I’m still sour about the whole interaction. But either way, I had it built up in my head that he was going to ask me out on a date, so when he asked me to help him get back together with his ex, I shouted a resounding yes before my mind could process what he was actually saying.”

“Oh…my…God, Everly. That is soooooo embarrassing.”

“I know! It’s why I didn’t want to say anything to you because I knew you would laugh.”

“I’m not laughing.”

My eyes roll even though she can’t see me. “I can hear it in your voice, Ember.”

“I might have quietly smiled to myself, but I don’t take pleasure in your pain.”

“Says the girl who laughed for ten minutes straight when I told you I accidentally farted in front of the best man at a wedding because he made me laugh.”

“That’s just comedy gold, but this is different. This was a special moment for you that was ruined.”

I finish up with lotion on my face and then move to the kitchen where I take out my beef and broccoli and place it on the counter.

“It was not my special moment. It was a moment I wish I could forget.”

“Did he know you were saying yes to something else?”

“I don’t think so,” I say, grabbing myself a cherry vanilla OLIPOP. “He asked me if something was wrong at one point while I was trying not to hyperventilate from my mistake, but I covered it up quickly. So no, I don’t think he caught on.”

“Thank God for that.”

I take a seat at my small bistro table, then I cross one leg over the other and dig into my food. “I guess so, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I still said yes to helping him out. Oh, and get this, Ember, his ex-girlfriend is a zookeeper for flamingos. Like…how adorable is that? Out of all the animals, she has to be the flamingo girl—they’re so cute and cheery and pink.”

“Ooo, yeah, that does trump event planner.”

“I know!” I shout with broccoli in my mouth. “Not that I’m competition. He barely knows me, and he had a three-year relationship with this woman.”

“Yes, but perhaps if she wasn’t in the picture, there could have been a moment for you.”

“Doubtful,” I say as I scoop up some rice. “I’m bound to die alone.”

“You’re twenty-two, Everly. I’m pretty sure you have no right in claiming you’re going to die alone, not until you’re at least middle-aged with no prospects. Even then, there’s still hope.”

I set my fork down for a moment and stare at my wall. “Is it me, Ember? Am I the problem? Am I the reason I’m single?”

“No,” she answers. “And why are you questioning this? I thought you were set on establishing your career before you started looking for love.”

“I am,” I say. “But there are nights like tonight, where I’m sitting in my studio apartment, eating a premade meal that I heated in the microwave and talking to my sister on the phone, and I think how lonely my life is. No offense to you.”

“Some taken, but I forgive you.”

“And you have Trevor, and that’s amazing—I’m really happy for you, but that also makes me wonder if I’m missing out by not dating someone. And when Hardy started talking about wanting to find someone in his life, it just got me excited. Got me thinking. I don’t want to be lonely, Ember.”

“Are you?” she asks.

“A little,” I answer. “And I know that to not feel that loneliness, I’ll fill it up with work, and I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to be the woman who is solely identified by what she does. I want my job and the joy I put out in the world with planning these events to be a big part of me, but I don’t want it to be all of me.”

“So then start dating.”

“How? I can’t just pick a guy out at the grocery store and say date me. Plus, I hear horror stories about online dating and the apps. Like a ton of ghosting.”

She scoffs. “And there are also wonderful stories that come from going that route. It’s a process, Everly. It’s not going to happen overnight.”

“I know, but⁠—”

“And there are other ways as well. You can join a club, be a part of something bigger, like…a bowling league. Meet someone there.”

“A bowling league?” I ask. “Ember, I’ve maybe bowled once in my life. No one wants me on their team.”

“They might. And maybe there’s a beginner one. Or maybe a bingo club.”

“Bingo?” I nearly shout. “Ember, I’m not looking to date an eighty-year-old man.”

“There might be young men there too. Maybe someone playing bingo with their granny. Now there’s a man to consider, someone who cares so deeply for their grandma that they play bingo on Friday nights.”

“I can guarantee you, there are no young men hanging out at bingo halls.”

“Well, then go to a bar,” she offers. “You’re in San Francisco, not some backwater small town.”

“Ugh, those guys are always wanting to get laid, they don’t want to meet someone for the real reasons, for developing a relationship. They’re looking for a quick fuck and then they’re out.”

“I mean…is that a bad thing?” I can hear the humor in her voice.

“It is when I don’t want that.”

She huffs. “Fine, but those were good ideas.”

“They were not.”

“They would have been if you weren’t so close-minded.”

“Are you really going to tell me that going to a bingo hall to meet someone was a good idea? You’re standing behind that?”

“You know, I don’t have to take this kind of abuse. I’m a nice woman. I have things I could be doing right now, a husband I could be doing⁠—”

“Okay, okay.” I chuckle. “No need to get into the details. It’ll just color me with jealousy.”

“Fine, I’ll spare you, but just so you know, I have options,” she says. “I don’t have to be on the phone with you.”

“Well, I appreciate you taking time to talk to me, your measly little sister. You’re a true hero.”

“I like to think so,” Ember says. “You know, there is one more option.”

“What’s that? Going to senior aquatics?” I joke.

“Well, going to the gym is an option, but that’s not what I was going to say. We have a built-in matchmaker.”

“Who?” I ask, confused.

“Trevor,” she says.

“Trevor?” I ask flatly. “How on earth is he a built-in matchmaker? I’m pretty sure he couldn’t care less about my love life.”

“Because we can ask him if there’s anyone at his work that he knows is looking for a date. Would you be interested in a blind date?”

“I don’t know,” I say tepidly as my mind drifts to Hardy.

“Are you still caught up on the man?” Embers asks, knowing me all too well.

“I think so.”

“Then you definitely need to date someone else, because if you’re going to be helping him get back together with his ex, that leaves you in a tough spot.”

“Ugh, you’re right.” I stab a piece of beef. There’s no use thinking about someone else when they’re clearly thinking about another person. “Okay, sure, yeah, set me up with someone.”

“Ooo, yay. This is so exciting. Now…who should it be?”

“Just no creeps. Okay?”

“Promise.”