“Lay what on you?” She lifts her glass to her lips, eyeing me over the rim.
“It’s clear you think I care too much about Matt being sick. Why don’t you just come out and say it?”
She lifts a shoulder. “You two are friends. Why wouldn’t you care about a friend being sick?”
“So, what’s with all the I’m making his problem my problem stuff? What’s with the guilt?”
“I didn’t mean to lay guilt on you.”
“What did you mean to lay on me then?” Gee, I sure do love these little word games we sometimes play. I’m the writer here. I should be the one to win these arguments without breaking a sweat.
“I only want you to be careful.”
“You’ve been telling me to be careful for months. And haven’t I been? We've basically gone back to being friends. Nothing more. I haven't even mentioned … the kiss,” I whisper the last two words.
“No, but you’re letting what happened between you get in the way of your livelihood. And that’s what bothers me. Because I know how much your writing means to you, how hard you’ve worked to maintain your career. And I’d hate to see all of that get thrown aside because a hot man kissed you once.”
“Now, that’s just unfair. I’ve kissed lots of hot guys …” I start but quickly stop as the server comes by, asking if we need anything, because I’m about two seconds away from causing a scene. Just a few moments of putting on a pleasant face and smiling are enough to pull me up short and keep my temper in check.
Here’s the thing: Hayley is a fantastic friend and an absolute genius, both of which I love and admire her for. Yet that genius of hers means she has a habit of boiling things down to the point where they’re just about unrecognizable. I know I tend to be a drama queen, but she swings all the way in the opposite direction. I’m all about being pragmatic and realistic, but there’s more to the situation with Matt than just a hot guy kissing me.
I fold my hands on top of the table, determined to handle this like a professional adult. I mean, that’s who I am, right?
“I appreciate your observations, but I think you’re generalizing quite a bit. Matt isn’t just some hot guy. You know how close we’ve become. And you know how he took care of me the last time I was sick. He brought me pho and everything else I needed without being asked. The least I can do is return the favor.”
She nods slowly, but I know better. The way those eyes of hers narrow tells me everything I need to know about what’s going on in her brilliant, beautiful head. “A reasonable argument.”
“Thank you.”
“But I think you forget who you’re talking to.”
I slump down. Here we go. Good thing my drink arrives when it does because I need it.
Another good thing: the approach of a pair of handsome, smiling guys who look to be around our age. Professionals too, wearing nice suits and expensive watches.
Not that I’m in the mood to meet either of them, but at least they’re a distraction.
Hayley sizes them up with a single look, flashing a friendly but distant smile before they have a chance to say hello. “We’re kind of in the middle of something right now. Sorry.”
The two men slink off and make eyes at two women a few tables away.
Now, that is Hayley. She can draw men in like flies to honey, but when she’s not in the mood to entertain their advances, she has no trouble telling them to move along.
She then turns back to me, all business.
“As I was saying”—she pulls the olives from her martini, sliding one from the skewer with her teeth—“you’re talking to me now. And I know what’s really going on. You’re right; I was flippant. I apologize.”
“Thank you.”
“But you’re kidding yourself.”
“And there it is.”
“Well, you are! The whole reason you haven’t written a new book in months is because you’re hung up on Matt. If you really like Matt, why not come out and tell him?”
“Because he’s Matt. Because he’s the guy who constantly picks on me. Because we have nothing in common. Because he’s my neighbor. You know once we were over the honeymoon period, everything would fall apart, and we’d be forced into uncomfortable conversations in the hallway. And I wouldn't get to see Phoebe anymore. How miserable would that be?”
“Why do you assume things wouldn’t work out?”
“Besides the fact that we are completely different? Look at my track record. For the last year and a half, I’ve allowed myself to date several men, and I’m never good enough for them. Something always comes between us. Why would I think it would be any different between Matt and me?”
“I feel there is so much to say about all that, but let’s not go down that rabbit hole. Instead, let’s talk about your work. You were so freaked out about the change in direction, and then you practically jumped at the chance to spin the wheel before the cowboy because you liked being busy. Now, it's been six months, and you don’t even want me to bring up the spinner. What are you going to do about that? If you’re just going to be friends with Matt, there's no reason to let him stand in the way of your career.”
Man, I should’ve known better than to think I could win this one. “I wish I could make you understand. My feelings for him are all jumbled up.”
She reaches across the table and takes my hand. “I do understand. I really, truly do. And it sucks. But my job as your best friend isn’t just to be a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes, I have to nudge you in the right direction. In this case, the right direction is making sure you see the big picture for what it is. You have to start working again. At least talk things over with Maggie, see how she feels about you going back to writing purely from your imagination.”
“I’ve already done that.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “And?”
“And she argued that messing with success is never a good idea. The fresh inspiration I’ve gotten from each of the men I’ve dated has kept my writing … how did she describe it? Exciting, compelling.” I have to snicker as I raise what’s left of my drink. “Apparently, I’m not exciting or compelling when I’m writing strictly from my imagination. I guess all the people who read my first few books didn’t know what they were talking about when they posted such glowing reviews.”
“That doesn’t sound like Maggie. Didn't you tell me she asked if she was pushing too hard at one point?”
“Yeah, well, I guess now that she’s given me six months off, she’s not so concerned anymore.”
The fact is, Maggie’s patience is waning. Every single tick of the clock reminds me that I’m wasting time, that my publisher expects certain things from me in return.
“So, I guess it’s time for this, huh?” Hayley reaches into her bag, fishing for the spinner, and places it on the table.
I’ve come to both love and hate the spinning wheel she put together for me when this whole crazy experiment started.
But it’s for my career, and she’s right. I’ve worked too hard to let things fall apart just because I have a crush on someone. The more I think about it that way, the easier it is for me to adjust to the idea of finding somebody new to date.