I broke my side of the bargain last night.

I slept with his best friend.

And the worst part? I want to be consumed with nothing but regret, only what’s in my head is a whole lot more chaotic and crazy. It’s half regret and half desire.

But here’s the bottom line: it can’t happen again. There are some things I can’t risk losing.

Xoxo

Truly

Truly: Oomph. Nothing like having your words come back to haunt you?

Charlotte: You wanted tough love.

Truly: Yeah, that’s what I needed to see. I worry what would happen to his friendship with Malone if I let anything go further. What if we went out and it ended badly and caused a rift?

Charlotte: That is a real risk.

Truly: That’s why I can’t go down that slippery slope. I need to just focus on business. Not stupid lust.

Charlotte: Lust isn’t always stupid. Sometimes it’s exactly the opposite. That said, can we talk about the big issue?

Truly: Funny, I thought that was the big issue.

Charlotte: The big issue of how exactly you plan to pull off going to weddings together, being his fake date, and all that. You do know what happens at weddings?

Truly: People get . . . married?

Charlotte: And other people get . . . frisky. Picture this: dancing, toasting, WITNESSING DECLARATIONS OF LOVE AND AFFECTION. I’m sure going to one with someone you’re trying to keep your hands off will be as easy as resisting the seven-tiered wedding cake.

Truly: I can resist cake.

Charlotte: You’re a stronger woman than I.

Truly: You’re right. And you know what? I’m not that twenty-two-year-old anymore. I’m not that girl who struggled to talk to her own brother after he broke up with someone. I’m a goddamn adult, and my relationship with him is important. It’s one of the most important in my life. I’m going to see if Malone is busy.

Charlotte: Go for it. That’s an excellent resistance plan.

Truly: Hey, knucklehead! Want to grab coffee before I head to the restaurant supply store?

Malone: If you’re buying, and if by coffee you mean coffee plus eggs and potatoes.

Truly: My, my, someone’s a growing boy.

Malone: Yes, I’m having a growth spurt at age thirty-five. Are you too?

Truly: Oh no you didn’t! Did you really just remind me of my age?

Malone: No, I reminded you of MY age. I can’t help it if you happen to be nearly as old as your older brother.

Truly: I am and always will be younger, by an astonishing FIVE WHOLE MINUTES. And you are evil. Good thing I love you. Meet you at Wendy’s Diner in twenty?

Malone: I’ll be there with a glass of milk to help my bones grow faster.

Truly: Awesome. Also, I have to meet Jason after that. I’m helping him with a work thing.

Malone: Are you going into the men’s advice business or the groomsman-for-hire business? Because as much as I think you can do anything, I’m not sure either is the right path for you on account of your not being a man. Just a friendly tip.

Truly: Thanks for the sage advice. So helpful. By the way, I love you. Just wanted to say it again.

Malone: You’re such a goofball. I love you too.

11

I’d like to say I don’t flirt, but it’s too hard to resist.

When I find Truly ogling shelves of shot glasses, I point to the floor. “I believe I was told you’d be on your knees. ‘Genuflecting before the glasses,’ wasn’t it?”

“It’s called a metaphor. You use it to creatively express how you feel about something.”

“Let me creatively express how much I was looking forward to seeing you on your knees—like a die-hard Yankees fan looks forward to spring training.”

“Good one, since I do enjoy the arrival of spring training.”

“Thought you might like that. Want to tell me the story again of how you met Mariano Rivera?”

“Are you saying I’ve told you that story too many times?”

“Oh, no. Never. I hardly remember it. Was it after the game one Sunday afternoon, and Charlotte snapped the photo by the third baseline?”

Truly arches a disdainful brow. “See if I ever invite you to a game again.”

“Please tell it to me once more. I can hear it for the ten thousandth time.”

“I’m literally never sharing someone else’s season tickets with you ever.”

“You will. You totally will.” I shift gears, pointing to the glasses. “Have you ever collected anything? Like shot glasses or license plates or aprons?”

“Nah, I don’t really like things. I suppose, technically, I collect pancake recipes. But I keep them up here.” She taps her skull.

“That is worth collecting.” I pause, picturing what I might amass if I had that itch. “If I were a collector, I’d go for typewriters.”

“Typewriters?”