Page 24 of Falling into Place

Chapter Sixteen

Carly

Hey. I just wanted to check in and make sure you’re really fine with what we talked about yesterday. Give me a call later if you want.

—Text message from Benjamin Wheeler to Carly Porter

Carly’s week started off incredible and then went straight to hell.

At least her one win was a big one: She got the job.

As in, Mai and Kyle agreed that on top of her stellar style instincts and customer relationships, her work with LiveOKC and connections for future media collaborations were proof she was a strong, well-rounded investment for the company.

They’d called her into Kyle’s office on Monday and made the formal offer, and she’d been so happy she hugged them both and cried.

She’d even successfully negotiated the salary, something her younger self never would have been able to do. She didn’t even wait an hour after arriving at Bailey Accounting later that morning before submitting her two weeks’ notice.

She rode that high for a good twenty-four hours before things started going downhill, and as the hits kept coming, Pepper seemed more and more concerned.

“Would you stop looking at me like that? I’m fine.”

Her cat blinked slowly, flicking his tail once, his black-and-yellow gaze giving Carly a bland Yeah, right look.

Carly sighed. “Okay. I’m not fine. I mean, I am, but I could be better. Are you happy?”

Cat-blink.

“This week hasn’t been the best, I’ll give you that. But you know what? I’ve got my dream job, I have a roof over my head, and I have great friends. So my love life isn’t in great shape, but that’s not the end of the world.”

And really, the job thing was huge. Amazing. Everything she’d been working toward at Mode. She sort of hated that she let completely different issues dim the light of that accomplishment, but she couldn’t seem to help it.

Pepper jumped off the side table, pushing a copy of Kennedy Ryan’s latest romance onto the floor as she went.

“You did that on purpose,” Carly muttered, picking up the book and centering it back onto the stack where it belonged. She slipped on her shoes and tucked her phone into her purse with a sigh.

It had been seven days since Sasha’s birthday party. Three weeks since the night Brooks had come over after his failed date and watched The Notebook with her. Both nights had led her to two very important realizations.

One: She liked Brooks. Like, a lot. Which was unfortunate, since there wasn’t a single thing she could do about it, both because it could risk her job and because he was maybe falling in love with one of her closest friends.

Which led her to number two: She did not like seeing him with Kendall.

And not because it was Kendall—her friend was lovely and great and deserved an incredible man like Brooks.

No, it was just that (1) Kendall wasn’t Brooks’s type at all, and (2) Carly wouldn’t like seeing his arms wrapped around another woman no matter who it was (except Sasha, of course).

She’d given more thought to how she might approach Brooks after the LiveOKC thing was finished, because even if she wasn’t one to take big risks, she also didn’t particularly enjoy living in regret.

The more time that passed without him connecting with someone, the more likely she was to have an actual shot.

If she could wait until he wasn’t her client and they were both single, there’d be nothing holding her back.

But then Kendall came into the picture and excitedly informed Carly a few days after the birthday party that she and Brooks had made plans.

Date plans.

Which, of course, was the whole point for Brooks and being part of this whole Bachelor series.

So, yeah. That sucked.

He’d tried his hand at dressing himself last night and had sent her a picture to make sure she approved. She had, and how. The man pulled off flat-front shorts and leather sneakers like a damn Ralph Lauren model. An assessment Kendall was sure to agree with.

That also sucked.

The final event topping off the shitty parts of her week was yesterday’s phone call with Benjamin.

They hadn’t been in touch for a few weeks, and with the whole Brooks/Kendall thing sending her into a rare state of loneliness, she’d taken a chance Benjamin wasn’t busy and called him.

He’d answered, and during their conversation she blurted out a question she’d had for months but never could bring herself to ask.

“Have you dated anyone since you’ve been gone?”

“What?” Benjamin had asked, clearly not expecting that.

“I’m just wondering if you’ve ... you know. Gone out with anyone over there.”

He’d paused for a long moment, then said, “Are you sure you want to talk about this?”

If that in itself didn’t answer her question, him stating straight up he’d been casually seeing one of his co-interns for a few months sure did.

It had not only surprised her but also made her feel sort of pathetic that she hadn’t done the same, a truth she’d tried and failed to keep out of her voice.

She’d made an excuse to get off the phone pretty quickly after that.

Thank God Carly had a client to meet this morning, or else she would have spent the entire day wallowing in a pool of self-pity. Glancing at the clock, she cast one last glare at Pepper and swiped her keys from the table. “Be good while I’m gone.”

The meeting was scheduled at a tea shop in Nichols Hills, near some of the best independent shopping venues in Oklahoma City. Carly walked in one minute before ten and spotted a dark-haired woman near the window with an expectant look on her face.

“Jacque?” The woman nodded and Carly held out her hand with a smile. “I’m Carly. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“I see you’ve got a drink. Mind if I grab a tea before we start?”

“Not at all.”

Once she’d procured an Earl Grey with several drizzles of honey, Carly parked herself across from Jacque. “So have you ever done anything like this before? I’ve gotta give props to your husband—that’s a pretty thoughtful gift, if you ask me.”

“No, I haven’t,” Jacque admitted. “I can’t believe my husband even thought of it.”

“I have to agree.” Carly laughed. “I don’t know many men who would gift their wives an afternoon of shopping. Nothing against flowers or chocolates, but I’d pick this over those any day.”

A sad sort of smile settled on Jacque’s lips.

“I was trying to get ready for our first date night since our twins were born and broke down in the middle of the closet because nothing fits the same as it used to. He’s so wonderful and said all the right things, like how beautiful I am no matter what.

But all I see is this six-month postpartum body, and I just .

..” She looked down at her hands for a few seconds, then took a breath and lifted her eyes.

“Anyway, bless that man, a few days later I had this gift certificate in my inbox.”

“He’s right, you are beautiful,” Carly said. “And my job is to help you see it, too.”

Jacque toyed with the string of her discarded tea bag, expression polite but skeptical. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“It’s a good thing I’m amazing at my job,” Carly said with a smile, undeterred. “Okay if I tell you a little about how this usually works?”

“Sure.”

“For this package, I’m basically at your beck and call for three hours. We could spend that time any number of ways, and the timer won’t start until we make a plan.”

She nodded. “Okay, what are my options?”

“Some clients like to take me to their house, where I can help make recommendations based on what’s already in their closet, because sometimes it just takes a little creativity to style things in a new way.

Others want to hit some stores and use me as a personal shopper to help them pick things out and pair them together.

We could always do both—see what you’ve got and strategize what new pieces we want to add.

And a few times I’ve had people just want to sit and chat while we look through websites, talking about style ideas and concepts.

When your husband contacted Mode, he mentioned shopping and that you two would set a budget together, but that may have changed? ”

“No, that’s true. We talked about it, and he said he wanted me to buy whatever I wanted.

” She chewed her lip. “But I’m, um, not very comfortable spending a lot of money.

” Her cheeks flushed pink. “I’m sorry. I looked at your website, and I’m sure you’re used to working with people with a lot of cash to spend, but I just don’t think I can.

The size of our family basically doubled, and one of the twins has had some medical issues we’re still paying for. I ... I hope that’s okay.”

Carly’s heart squeezed, remembering all the times growing up she’d tried to find confidence for herself on a budget. “That’s definitely okay.”

It was more than okay, if the sudden fizz of excitement in her stomach was any indication. Jacque was right: The majority of Mode’s clientele was high-income individuals, and while it was fun being able to shop for them without restriction, Jacque felt more like Carly’s people.

“Okay, thank you.” Jacque looked down at her lap. “I thought about trying to shop on my own first ... but I didn’t even know where to start.”

“I have a ton of ideas for us. Believe it or not, I know all the best reasonably priced places around town, and some are real hidden gems. Let’s chat a little more about your style and the things you like to wear, then we can head out. Sound good?”

Something like relief flashed in Jacque’s eyes. “That sounds great.”

Her husband had technically only paid for three hours of Carly’s time, but she spent close to five with Jacque.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this inspired and energized by a client.

Each smile and look of pleasant surprise on Jacque’s face when she came out of the dressing room in a new outfit was like winning the lottery.

She may not be saving lives like what Brooks did for a living, but for Carly, this was its own type of healing.

After making a simple dinner and changing into loungewear, Carly settled onto her couch. Seconds later, her phone lit up with a text from Brooks.

Staring at the screen, she hesitated to unlock it. She’d been waiting for him to message her about his date with Kendall, because he usually told her about his dates. If he didn’t, she usually asked.

Did she want to know how things had gone?

No. Especially not if it had gone well, which made her some kind of asshole, probably.

Kendall had texted her twice today, and she hadn’t looked, afraid of what she might find. We’re already in love! or I think this is finally it, he’s the one!

Carly could think of nothing worse than those two hitting it off and witnessing their perfect, beautiful love story as a bystander. Because if anyone would have the romance-film-style love that rarely existed in real life, the universe would pick them just to spite her.

A second text from Brooks came through. She couldn’t avoid him forever, so she bit the bullet and looked.

Brooks: [image]

Brooks: come get some of this

Two things happened simultaneously: An overloud laugh burst from her lips, and she nearly sank to the floor in relief. Which was a weird combination.

Carly: Is ... is this a sext?

Brooks: what? no they’re my cucumbers

Brooks: i bet your mom wants some too

Bless his heart.

Carly: That’s a lot of cucumbers

Brooks: the vines have taken over the entire garden and i need help unloading some of these. i can’t possibly eat them all

Carly: Why don’t you pickle them?

Brooks: what?

Carly: You know. Make pickles out of them.

Brooks: ???

Carly: Tell me you know pickles are made from cucumbers

Brooks: oh

Brooks: yeah I knew that

Carly: Oh My God

Carly: You didn’t

Carly: Hahahahaha

Brooks: this feels like a good time to remind you I know the entire periodic table by heart

Carly: I’m literally wheezing I’m laughing so hard

Brooks: are you taking some of these or not?

Brooks: nevermind I’ll just take them all to work

Carly: No no, I want some. I love cucumbers. And, incidentally, pickles.

Brooks: i hate pickles. but i love cucumbers, how is this possible

Carly: Did you know sauerkraut is cabbage?

Brooks: yes

Carly: Raisins are grapes

Brooks:

Carly: Just checking

Brooks: i just need to know how many cucumbers you want

Carly: I’ll take 3

Brooks: ok. i’ll pick out the best ones for you

Carly: And one for my mom

Brooks: K

Had he texted Kendall to see if she wanted any? Or had he brought some to her on their date last night?

She pressed her phone to her chest and closed her eyes. What if he’d invited Kendall back to his place last night and Kendall had been the first one to see his spread? Had she, in fact, been the one to pick the best cucumbers?

Oh, hell. She was about to cry over a vegetable.

She jumped at a sudden knock at her door.

She wasn’t expecting anyone, but made her way to the peephole, ensuring she didn’t make noise in the event it was someone she didn’t want to talk to, like her chatty neighbor.

She wasn’t in the mood for a discussion about natural methods of wasp repellant just now.

When she saw who stood on the other side, she frowned and backed up to swing the door open.

“Kendall?”

Her friend arched one eyebrow like it was her job and marched inside. Carly closed the door and turned around to find Kendall next to the couch with one hand on her hip.

“Why are you avoiding my texts?”

“What? I’m not. Sorry, I’ve just been ... busy.”

Kendall’s second eyebrow joined the first. “Well, I hope you’re not busy anymore, because I need to talk to you. As you know, I went on a date with Brooks last night.”

Oh no. This was it. She was about to ask Carly if she’d be her maid of honor at their wedding and why hadn’t she looked at the texts because at least then she’d have been able to scream in frustration as she answered the affirmative (because of course she would)?

“Oh, right.” There, she sounded cool. Casual. “How’d it go?”

Kendall snorted. “Not good, Carly. Not good at all.”

“Oh, no, why not?” That had actually been genuine.

Mostly.

“Because he’s completely and one hundred percent hung up on you.”