My cell phone rings, breaking my attention from searching for a traveling zoo. Over the past six weeks, I’ve hosted nine birthday parties, three weddings, two engagement parties, an anniversary party, and a bridal shower, surviving on dry shampoo, granola bars, and coffee. Thankfully, Catherine’s managed to hire two new associates, giving me hope the chaos will come to an end. I glance at the large wrought-iron clock on my wall as I reach for my phone, already knowing it’s Felicity, and discover it’s past eight.

“Shit,” I sigh. “Hey.” Guilt sits heavily on my shoulders. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” I repeat. “I have no idea what happened to the time. Is Gemma still up?”

“Don’t worry,” Felicity assures me. “She’ll be just fine because I told her you’ll take her to get doughnuts in the morning.”

“Thank you.” I heave another sigh. “I feel like such a dick.”

“Well … I know one way to make you feel better.”

“Quit my job?”

Felicity laughs. “Okay, maybe two.”

“What’s your remedy?”

“It’s time to get drunk,” she announces.

“I don’t have time to get drunk. I don’t even have time to discuss getting drunk, you should see how much work I have piled on my desk. I don’t think I’m going to find my pencil holder until May.”

“And it’s not going to go anywhere.”

“I know,” I tell her. “Hence why I don’t have time to talk about getting drunk.”

“Come on.” Felicity’s voice grows in volume as she enters my office wearing a short, black sequined dress and stares at me from across my desk. “Let’s go,” she says into her phone.

I hang up and shake my head, smirking at her. “What are you doing here? Where are the kids?”

“Dan’s watching them.” She keeps her phone pressed to her ear, still talking to me through it.

“Why are you so dressed up?”

“Oh, this old thing?” she asks, running a hand down her side.

I laugh harder.

“Come on,” she tells me, jerking her head in the direction of the door. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Do you see this mess?” I wave my arms across the surface of my cluttered desk.

“I can’t see anything through the phone.” She garbles and makes spitting sounds, drawing her phone away from her face. “Sorry. I can’t hear you. Did I lose you? Brooke? Brooke? Can you hear me? I think I’m losing reception.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Keeping up the farce, Felicity continues speaking into her phone. “I think I heard you say you’re excited, which makes me so happy. I’ll be there in five! Kisses!” She drops her cell phone into her purse and exits my office without saying anything more.

“You’re crazy!” I call after her.

I stare at the door, waiting for her to reappear. A few minutes pass as I carefully listen to see if I can hear her footsteps.

“Felicity?” I yell when she doesn’t return. “What are you doing?”

Another minute passes before I push my chair away from my desk and stand. My heels clip against the hardwood floors as I follow my best friend’s path down the hall. I find her in the small lobby, her legs crossed as she flips through a magazine.

Andrea sends me a timid smile. Even she’s been working late recently, helping us with random odds and ends. We’re all relying on the extra help.

“You’re just in time!” Felicity exclaims, tossing the magazine onto the pristinely arranged glossy covers filled with pages of wedding cakes and gowns.

“What’s your plan?” I ask tentatively.

“I’m getting you out of your funk. You need to go out. You need to see other guys and realize Gabe was not the only fish in the sea.”

I wince and peer around, wondering if everyone heard the announcement. “I never said Gabe was the only fish in the sea. I’m just not ready to date yet.” My voice is hushed in hopes she’ll catch the subtle hint.

Felicity nods, then stands, her narrow shoulders bowed. “I’m worried about you,” she says softly. “I’m worried you’re going to convince yourself you’re never going to be able to get over Gabe. I’m worried you’re going to bury yourself so deeply in work you’re going to forget about all the things that mattered to you before.”

“I won’t,” I say, though there is a trace of question in my tone even I recognize. “We went rock climbing,” I remind her.

“And you had fun!” she cries. “Let’s just go out tonight. You don’t have to get a phone number or even dance with a guy. We just need to get you outside of this office because you’re starting to look like a permanent wall fixture here.”

“We’ve been short-staffed. There’s too much work and not enough people.”

“I know. But this isn’t healthy. It’s just one night.”

I try not to sound pained and ask, “Where exactly are you wanting to go?”

Felicity’s blue eyes grow round and bright. I’ve been a lousy friend since my breakup with Gabe. While work has provided me with an easy and welcoming excuse, the truth is I don’t know what to do when I’m not here. I constantly feel like a third wheel, even with Felicity and Dan, which has led me to missing dinners and family movie nights. “There’s this place my hairdresser was telling me about,” Felicity says. “They’re supposed to have amazing martinis and an even better DJ.”

“Are we too old to go out to the clubs?” As I say it, my eyes narrow with a wince, loathing the question.

“We are not old,” Felicity insists. “We are like a fine wine—”

“Oh, God, stop. You’re making me feel older.” I run a hand through my hair, trying to recall how I wore it today.

“Don’t worry about that. This is about us being together and having a good time. Now leave your hair alone.” She makes a pointed look at me as I run my hand through my hair once again. “None of it matters tonight. This is simply step one of Operation Getting Over Gabe.”

“I’m over Gabe,” I say and try not to roll my eyes when I see the look of pity draw her mouth into a frown. “I just forgot how to not be in a relationship.”

“Well, then, we’ll call this Operation Singleton.”

“Deal,” I say. “Let me close a couple of things out, and we can get going.” I take a few steps in the direction of my office before turning back toward Felicity, who is reaching for the magazine she haphazardly dropped. “I don’t remember how to dress to go to a club.”

“Neither do I.” Felicity drops her head back and laughs. “I wear sweatpants all day, so I’m assuming anything’s better than that.” Her shoulders lift with a shrug. “But I brought you some options.” With a tilt of her head, she motions to the chair beside her, where several dresses are piled. “I suggest the purple one.”

I eye the plum dress before approaching the stack and lifting the hanger it’s hung on to get a better look at the short dress. “Can I just wear what I have on?”

Felicity looks over my slacks and sport coat before shaking her head. “Brooke, no.”

“I thought it didn’t matter because we’re just going out to have fun.”

She rolls her eyes. “Go change.” She turns her attention to the magazine.

I take the dress and head back to my office, where I make quick work of putting things in piles that I slip into my desk drawers, making my office look deceivingly clean. I shrug out of my work slacks, jacket, and blouse and pull the dress on. It’s out of my closet, but I haven’t worn it since we went to Vegas shortly before Felicity learned she was pregnant with Theo. Thoughts of that trip flood my mind with images of the Vegas Strip, the bright lights, endless slot machines, and Gabe.

I shake my head, running my fingers through my hair to give it some life back, and move to the small mirror that hangs on the back of my door. I swipe at the bits of mascara that have left vague shadows under my eyes and run my fingers through my hair again before taking a deep breath and slipping my feet back into the black pumps I wore to work.

Felicity whistles as I make my way back out to the lobby. “Look at you, hot stuff.”

“Are you sure I look okay?”

“I’d do you.”

Andrea chokes on her drink, working to stifle a laugh.

Felicity grins, appreciating the reaction. She stands, collecting the discarded dresses left on the chair. “Ready?”

Andrea follows us to the door, key in hand. “You guys have fun tonight and be safe.”

I wave, following Felicity to her car, where I begin laughing. “We’re going to be rolling in style, aren’t we?”

Felicity looks from me to her minivan. “Check this out.” She pushes a button on her key fob, and both of the rear doors slide open, the numerous lights inside illuminating the space. “Let’s be real—how many cars do you know that can do that? We are totally riding in style.” She heads to the driver’s side door. “Plus, at the end of the night, if everything’s a bust, we can hit up a movie rental and hide in the parking lot of a Taco Bell and stuff ourselves on churros while we watch a movie in the back seat of the van. You have to try these seats. They’re amazing.”

“It’s scary that things like that are now appealing.”

Felicity laughs. “At least it’s not the hair crimper anymore though.”