Public Relations

Chapter Four

My jaw tightens. "You can't say anything."

"I won't, I promise I won't, but wow. This is just... wow," she pauses, glancing around my office. "I thought this kind of stuff was made up."

"What was made up?" I ask, settling back into my seat at my desk, rubbing my palms against my slacks. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be able to work after that phone call.

"The fake dating with celebrities," she says, sinking back into her chair.

"Apparently it's not."

"Do you think her relationship with Noah Wilde was fake?" she asks after a moment.

"I don't know," I admit, blowing a breath between my lips as I brush back a loose strand of hair that's fallen on my forehead. "Probably not."

"Wow," she says again, rocking back and forth in her chair, grinning still.

"It's not a big deal," I tell her, but god, this is a really big fucking deal.

Her face scrunches up. "What do you think Gwen is going to say when she finds out about this?"

I glance back at my computer, pretending to refocus on my emails. "She won't have an opinion."

She shoots me an oh, come on, Gus look. "When has Gwen not had an opinion about Maisie? Don't you think she's not going to like you dating—"

"Fake," I correct, straightening out my keyboard. It knocks over my Best-Tea birthday card and I quickly prop it back up.

"Whatever. Fake dating Maisie?"

"It doesn't matter what Gwen's opinion is because she is not my girlfriend anymore."

Yes, Gwen and I share a complicated history. Five years of breaking up and getting back together—this last time being the shortest amount of time—for various reasons I'd rather not dwell on. And after half a decade together, our relationship is entangled and muddled. But the truth is that, of course, I loved her, I was just never in love with her.

Gwen is amazing. Honestly, she's incredible. We are compatible in a lot of ways. Our schedules worked well, we liked the same things—food, movies, books—and have similar life goals. On paper, we are perfect. Gwen is the type of woman any man who laid eyes on her would have proposed and gotten married to. It's just that she's not the right type of woman for me.

The right type of woman is about five foot five, has buttery blonde hair, the clearest blue eyes, a collection of multi-colored china coffee mugs she stores at my house because she hasn't bought a house of her own, and has absolutely no clue how completely in love with her I am.

I'm not sure she's ever seen me as anything beyond her best friend. Her best friend who used to wander into Hannigan's Market almost every day after high school to see if she was working. She'd be there in her hunter-green Hannigan's t-shirt, a black apron draped over it, and those white Converse she had doodled yellow and pink flowers on. I'd amble my way in just to see if her hair was pulled back or pinned up with one of her pink strawberry barrettes, or if it was down in those wavy curls.

I had been too bashful back then to ask her out, and even after I finally talked to her in college. By the time I talked myself into it, she had to leave to go back home to her mom. We had still text, call, and FaceTime, but when things progressed with her mom, it felt like I had missed my opportunity. Then, she pulled away, cut me off, and left me with no choice but to be trapped in the friend zone.

She'd started using terms like just friends, pals, best friends (emphasis on the friends), or she'd give me birthday cards with Best-Tea written on them. She stuck me right there in that friend zone, and it's been that way ever since.

And then, to top it all off, she became famous practically overnight. Maisie had been out of my league then, but now more so than ever—dating screenwriters and actors from Los Angeles.

So, I started dating Gwendolyn Caldwell. And for a long time, I thought I'd gotten over Maisie. I thought I was okay with just being her friend. Especially after she moved to LA for that year, always traveling for work. She was rarely ever around here in Boston. And I was happy with Gwen. Focused on our relationship. I had convinced myself I'd tossed those feelings away.

But it turns out, I hadn't. I'd just tucked them away.

And now I'm forced into this gray area where she only ever lets me be her best friend, but all I want is more.

Lucy hums as she thinks for a minute. "Is it weird to have to work with Gwen's sister?"

I let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't really work with her. She's based in New York."

"Really? Because I saw her on my way up," she says, gesturing with her thumb behind her.

To add to all the complexities of my relationship with Gwen is her sister, Emilia. She played a big role in getting me this job. Well, not this specific job, but she opened the door for me as a junior editor. She knew a friend of a friend of a friend who needed a junior editor, and from there, I worked my way up. Emilia is now an agent at the well-known Sterling & Stratton Literary Agency in New York, and we sometimes work together. In fact, I currently serve as an editor for one of her writers.

"You did?" I ask, pressing two fingers against the crease between my brows.

"Yeah, I did," Lucy nods. "She said hi to me. Mentioned she's here for the next few months, spending time with her parents in the Cape."

"Oh," I nod back. "Perfect."

Fucking perfect, I tell myself. Just what I need.

I must have some sort of pained expression on my face because Lucy sits up in her chair and decides not to push on the subject.

She clears her throat. "Well, I should probably get back to the bakery." And then gestures towards the book she had been flipping through on my desk. "Can I borrow this book though?"

"These are for you," I say, sliding over a stack of historical romance books that I snagged from Abby, one of the editors in the romance department down the hall.

She gasps. "Now I remember why you're my favorite older sibling."

I huff out a laugh as she stands, juggling the stack of books, her purse, and her apron with the little Sugar Moon Bakery logo. "I'll see you later, big bro. Thanks for showing me your new office and for the books."

"Yeah, anytime," I say, watching her make her way towards the door.

She pauses in the doorway, swiveling to look at me again, books cradled in her arms. "I can't believe you're going to be dating," her voice dropping to a whisper so quiet that she's pretty much just mouthing it, "Maisie."

Yeah, me either.

——————

I'd loves to hear your thoughts on the book so far!

What are your impressions of August, Gwen, and Maisie?

tysm everyone for reading, commenting, and voting! ❤️