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.”I gripped my phone tighter.It’d be so easy to throw on some clothes, drive over to his place, and fall into his arms.I missed the way we used to sleep, me tucked against his side, his arm draped over my waist.I missed the dimpled smile he flashed as we’d get ready for our workdays together—he knew not to start a conversation until after coffee.I longed for the kisses hello when we arrived back home.It wasn’t as simple as breaking up with an ex.It was losing the life I planned and the guy who knew me better than almost anyone else.But I again wondered if I could really ever get over how he’d left me alone in a wedding dress, waiting and waiting.If I could move past the awful days following.“Dakota?”“I don’t know,” I said, which was at least honest.“I’ve got several appointments over the next few days and I’ve got a wedding on Sunday.I need to get through those things before I can even start processing your news about having a son.”“Okay.When you’re ready to talk, you know where to find me.Good luck with the wedding.”I couldn’t help flinching.After pulling off close to fifty weddings over the past three years, I no longer got nervous about them.I simply checked my lists and took problems head-on.But my failure to wed made me question if I’d ever pull off another event again.Which was stupid.Right?As I told Grant good-bye, a new couple entered the hot tub, the guy and girl much closer to the same age than the previous one.They started kissing, not super graphic or anything, but a press of the lips here and there as they spoke, whispering and laughing, that glow of love radiating from them.I’d never been one of those little girls obsessed with fairy tales or romance when I was younger.I was much more interested in sports—I guess part of me always thought I needed to keep my coach father happy so he wouldn’t be upset he’d been stuck with me.Then, I really wasn’t sure quite when it’d happened, but suddenly I started looking at boys for more than if I wanted them on my team because they were good at sports, and more how they filled out their clothes and if they had cute smiles they’d flash at me when I made a great catch.That was when the butterflies started, and after a few boyfriends who taught me how nice hand-holding and kissing could be, I finally got what the fuss about love was.My job wasn’t so much about being obsessed with love as the ability to organize and orchestrate every minute detail.But I’d always get a happy buzz when betrothed couples came in so obviously in love.When I’d been on that cruise ship, though, the pain of being stood up at the altar so raw it felt like I’d lost every part of who I was, I’d looked around at all the other couples and thought love, love, everywhere, and not a drop for me.Then I’d stared at them, so much bitterness pumping through me that I was sure I’d never be happy again.Right now I was surreptitiously checking out the kissing couple, trying to gauge where my love-o-meter was hitting, from loathing to empathy butterflies.It didn’t give me a happy buzz, but I didn’t want to scoop up water, toss it on them, and tell them to get a room.So I supposed it was progress.Somewhere around progress I’d turned into a creeper—or so the couple thought, judging from the way they were both looking at me.Yes, I’d been staring at them, but in my defense, it was more like through them.Well, my love-o-meter toward them was dipping, that was for sure.“Those jets suck, huh?” I asked, attempting a solidarity smile.Apparently talking was not the way to go, since the guy pulled the girl closer, as if he needed to block her from me.Now that I was feeling super cool, I decided to take my sore, pathetic self back up to Jillian’s.She was still typing away, papers stacked all around her.When I saw my suitcases crammed in the corner, along with the two huge boxes I’d brought yesterday, I wondered if it wouldn’t be better to give in and stay at Grant’s—he at least had extra bedrooms, and I could sleep with Cupid curled up at the foot of my bed.Bad idea.Then he’ll think we’re cool, and we’re most definitely not cool.I wasn’t going to let myself be one of those girls who got pushed around and just went with whatever her significant other said—I’d had those brides, too.No, Grant needed to earn another chance, not expect one.“I forgot to tell you I have another dinner to cater tonight,” Jillian said.“This entire week is crazy, but Sunday after the wedding we’ll celebrate.”Yeah, by crashing and thanking our lucky stars we were done, the way we always did after a wedding.I nodded, though, so she knew I was on board, and went to get ready for the cake tasting, telling myself despite the overly sugary PDA from my couple, I’d get cake.Then tonight, I’d have to resist buying another gallon of ice cream and sitting in front of the TV while eating straight from the carton.The quiet late nights were the worst, the times I missed Grant the most.Maybe I should call Brendan.Or even swing by and see him at work.I hadn’t been to the new Aces Casino yet—I steered clear of the Strip most of the time, actually.But it’d be something different, and it’d be fun to talk to him again.Originally I’d told myself I’d wait to finish catching up with him until I’d gotten my life together, but with all the complications, that was going to take longer than I thought it would.And regardless of what I decided about Grant, I definitely needed all the friends I could get.What if I start crying or have another breakdown in front of him, though? That’ll be so embarrassing.I told myself that I didn’t need anyone else.That I’d be just fine on my own.But I had a feeling it might be a while until I actually believed it.Chapter FiveApartment hunting wasn’t going so well.Vegas was such a clash of extremes, which fit the city’s vibe and definitely made for an interesting mix of characters, but it made finding a place to live more of a challenge.My options were ritzy, you-can’t-afford-groceries-if-you-live-here, or carry-a-weapon-’cause-you’ll-need-one.There were a few more in the Goldilocks just-right range, but they meant driving across the busiest part of town at rush hour, when people were flocking to the Strip and trying to get to whichever spectacular show they’d booked or one of the many all-you-can-eat-and-drink buffets
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