NEWS
Sara
“Where have you been, Miss Hot Shot?” I ask Bryn as she steps into the living room where I am painting my toenails after a blissful sleepover and morning with my yummy motherfucker.
“You’d never guess where.” She lifts her hand, and I frown because I can’t be seeing what I’m seeing.
The flash around Bryn’s finger isn’t some big, sparkly bling. Is it?
“We’re getting married,” she says, her smile a mile long.
“What the…? When did this happen?” I drop my feet to the floor and stand, shocked.
“That night. The same night we made up after the House of Sass launch. It was all so fast. I picked out a ring this week.”
Dumbly, I walk over and stare at the elegant emerald-cut diamond on her finger. It’s simple yet gorgeous. “Bryn! Oh my God!” I cover my mouth to quell my squeals of delight. “This is amazing!”
“Yes.” She’s giddy, her voice shaky as she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet.
“Does Becka know?” We pad over to the couch and settle down, where I stare at the gorgeous ring once again in bewilderment and excitement for her.
“I told her after you left that morning after the launch; you were so quiet… I didn’t want to tell you until I noticed you were back to normal. Is everything okay? You left before I could ask.”
I sport a grin of my own. “I’m over the moon.”
“Wow… I can tell! So what’s got you over the moon and putting that spring in your step? Aside from my fabulous engagement ring, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Did you get an audition?” she prods.
“Nope. But I got fucked really good.”
“Sara!”
I laugh. “Repeatedly. My Workaholic is ravenous. Yummy fucker.” I shake my head and try to get a hold of myself, but I feel too relaxed and happy today to succeed.
Checking that my nails are dry, I pad to the window. The city will soon light up for the night and it already breathes and crackles with possibilities. I plan to take it up on that promise. The city, I mean, on the promise of adventure.
“So what’s the plan? Are you going out?” she asks me as she pulls out her laptop.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Where to and with whom? Who is this guy?”
I’m not sure I’m ready to tell her that I’ve been seeing Ian, that I haven’t been able to stop. But on the other hand, who can I talk to about him if it’s not her and Becka?
“I might be seeing Mr. Ford,” I grudgingly admit.
She stops scanning her retail order form on her computer and sets the laptop aside. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“Has the divorce gone through?”
“Not yet, but I know that he and his wife are done with each other and it’s only a matter of time. I really like him, Bryn.”
“I know you do—and does he like you?”
“He’s not the kind of man to pussyfoot around things. He wants us to see where this goes, to casually date and in the meantime have yummy sex.” I beam on that last part.
“Sara! When did this happen?”
“It’s recent. With the House of Sass launch and you and Christos back together…”
She leaps to her feet and comes over to grab my shoulders. “Don’t ever, ever not share important things with me because you think I have too much to deal with. I don’t. We’re friends; I want to be there for you.”
“And you are. We’re talking now, aren’t we?”
“We are! But I need the details, starting from… that day in Central Park and every instance afterward.”
I groan, but laugh and promise to catch her up. “Only if you give me the details of your and Christos’s makeup. One day you’re broken up and the next you’re getting married.”
“I know. I still can’t believe it!”
We spend the twenty minutes catching up on each other’s lives. I hear about the way Christos proposed and how excited, scared, and in disbelief Bryn still feels.
I tell her about Ian—how I’m addicted-obsessed-hooked on him really bad.
“Enjoy him, Sara. Why not? He’s into you; I could tell when I saw you two bump into each other that day in Central Park.”
I sigh. “I’m trying not to put my whole heart into it, you know? Let things move at their own pace.”
Bryn nods. “That’s a good idea. Once his divorce comes through, you’ll feel less concerned about whatever it is you have between you two. Just be careful,” she says. “And post me. I’m here for you.”
“Promise. I’ll see you soon and I’m here for you too,” I say before packing a bag and heading to the Upper East Side, where Ian and I promised to show off our dinner skills. I know I’ll be staying over. And while we innocently play house, I can’t wait to play with the man of the house himself.