Evening Bags and Executions(38)

“I’m glad,” he said. “I’m really glad, Haley.”

The sound of my name spoken in his mellow voice mentally zapped me back to the intimate moments we’d shared. The whispers, the giggles, the good-natured teasing.

I forced the image away.

He shifted his briefcase into his other hand, just like he used to do when I was upset, when he’d pull me against his chest and wrap his arms around me and I’d rest my head on his shoulder.

“What’s new with you?” I asked, forcing renewed I’m-doing-great zeal into my voice.

Oh my God, why did I ask him that? What if he told me he was engaged to Sarah Covington? How could I stand here and listen to that? How would I not fall completely apart?

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Listen,” I said, pumping up the something-bad-happened-but-I’m-not-going-to-let-it-show tone in my voice. “I’ve got to run.”

Ty took a step toward me. “Haley—”

Tears stung my eyes.

“I’ve got to go,” I said, and hurried away.

I rushed into the GSB&T and dashed across the lobby toward the restroom, frantic to get away. I couldn’t let Ty see me crying.

Then I glanced back at the door.

Why didn’t he come in and check on me? He saw I was crying.

I turned away and ran into the bathroom.



“I want it to pop! Sizzle! You know?”

I stared across the desk in client interview room two at Annette Bachman as she bounced on the edge of her chair. Her eyes were bulging, and her fists were clinched and raised above her head.

She was the first client assigned to me at L.A. Affairs and, clearly, she was way out in front of me on the enthusiasm scale.

I’d blown off my shift at Holt’s last night—I pretty much blew off everything after seeing Ty yesterday—and stayed home. I probably could have used some company, but Marcie had a family thing to do. I thought Cody might show up and work on my apartment, but he didn’t. Since he had no cell phone, I couldn’t call him. So I stayed home, did my homework, and soothed myself with an Oreo cookie or two. Maybe it was more than that. Okay, it was way more than that—but at least it kept me from detouring into breakup zombieland again.

“I’m talking awesome,” Annette went on. “Fabulous! Astounding! You know?”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. I didn’t, but I hoped that saying so might get her to move on.

Annette was in her midthirties, I guessed, with red, curly hair shaped like a triangle around her pale, round face. She had on one of those calf-length skirts, sandals, and a twin set, an outfit that screamed yeah-I’m-single-but-I-don’t-know-why. So it surprised me that she was here today to discuss a birthday party for her little Minnie.

“Because, wow, you only have one third birthday, right?” Annette said. “It’s got to be special! Grand! Completely and totally awesome!”

“Sure,” I said. I picked up my pen. “So, what color do you want?”

Annette clamped her mouth shut for a second, then said, “Pink! No, wait, yellow! No, no. Purple! Purple would be perfect for my little Minnie—purple and pink!”

Then her shoulders slumped and her smile collapsed.

“Oh, goodness, I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t decide. I’m not sure, you know? That’s why I came here, so you could help me make up my mind. It’s such an important day for Minnie. I want it to be perfect.”

Okay, now I felt kind of bad. She was really excited about planning a terrific birthday party for her daughter, and it was, after all, my job to help her.

I felt pretty good that L.A. Affairs had assigned me my own client. Mindy had told me that Vanessa had insisted I be put in the rotation, so I figured this was a good sign.

Of course, I’d never planned a birthday party for a three-year-old, but really, how hard could it be?

“Okay, so here’s what we can do,” I said. “We’ll pick a theme and a color palette. We’ll select a venue. We’ll decide on food, beverages, decorations, activities, and entertainment.”

Wow, I was really on a roll with this birthday party thing.

“It sounds perfect!” Annette declared, hopping up and down on her chair again.

I picked up my pen and started making notes on the tablet in front of me.

“Let’s consider having the party in your home,” I said. “Since Minnie and her guests are only three, it might be easier for the other moms.”

“Oh, yes, that would be perfect,” Annette said.

I wrote that down and put a big star beside it because, after all, it was a fantastic idea I’d had.

“Do you have a game room, or family room you’d like to use?” I asked.