The Plus One (Starting From Zero Book 3) Page 2

  And now they were engaged.

  Awesome.

  Lena leaned against the wall and stared off into space. “Three best friends torn apart by a love triangle…” She trailed off with a sigh. “It’s all so St. Elmo’s Fire.”

  Olivia leaned against the wall beside her—their dumbass of a manager thought it looked unprofessional if the waitresses sat down on the job, even if there were only two customers and they were both sitting at the bar. Looking down at her tacky green shirt that the owners thought gave the waitresses a festive Irish flair, she turned to Lena with a pitiful laugh. “Oh God. If I’m in St. Elmo’s Fire, does that make me Emilio Estevez’s character?”

  Lena closed her eyes, dropped her head back against the wall, and let out a disturbing moan. “I love Emilio.”

  Oh crap, she should never have brought him up. “I’ve got to go wrap silverware.”

  Really she just had to get away from her friend before Lena started to talk about her passionate love for The Mighty Ducks. She loved the girl to death—Lena had been there for her in the aftermath of her breakup with Jessie and her friend breakup with Drew, she would never forget that. But still. The Mighty Ducks obsession?

  No. Just no.

  The little bell over the front door jingled. Olivia glanced over and froze.

  Camille, otherwise known as “the skanky ho” by Lena, led the way with Jessie following. “Hey, girlie!” She headed straight toward Olivia with that easy confidence, as though she was sure to be welcomed here. The woman had hutzpah in spades, as Olivia’s grandmother would say.

  Her grandmother would have also called the pretty blonde a hussy if she’d heard about the way she’d been canoodling with Jessie while he was still Olivia’s boyfriend. Olivia forced a smile as the other woman headed toward her and did her best to push those memories from her mind.

  The hussy with hutzpah stopped just in front of her and kissed both cheeks like they were at a soiree in Paris and not in a dive bar where they’d both spent the better part of their college careers.

  Olivia tried to match the air kisses but ended up feeling ridiculous. She gave Jessie a wave. He returned it with that kind smile she was beginning to despise. It was so…nice. Too nice. Almost like he was apologizing to her every time he said hello. Hi, good to see you, so sorry for fucking your friend.

  Or maybe it was Hi, good to see you, so sorry you haven’t moved on yet, you poor pathetic loser.

  Because he’d moved on. Hell, he’d moved on before they’d even broken up. And now he was marrying the girl who’d stolen him away.

  Marriage. Wedding. Oh shit. She let out a weird wheezing noise as she remembered the invitation. The one that was currently pinned to the bar’s dartboard, stabbed to death.

  With a frantic glance over her shoulder she saw that Lena was already on it. Her friend tore down the invite and gave her a thumbs up. Super subtle.

  She turned back to her friends. Or rather, her ex and his new girlfriend. Lena was right. They weren’t friends anymore. Not her and Jessie. Not her and Camille. And certainly not her and Drew.

  Sadness swept over her and made her chest ache with unshed tears. God, why couldn’t they go back in time and start over? Everything had been so great for three and a half years. She’d had the group of friends she’d always longed for but had never found back in her tiny hometown. She’d finally been surrounded by people who shared her interests, her hopes, her dreams.

  Her nostalgic pity party came to a halt when Camille sat on a barstool and turned to face her, her head cocked to one side like a puppy. “So good to see you, hon.”

  Ugh. Camille’s tone was so incredibly sweet. Like nothing had happened between them and they were still close girlfriends who stayed up late and gossiped about the boys. But it wasn’t real. Nothing about her was genuine. Not her blonde hair, not her big tits—Lena knew very well that those things were the result of an amazing invention called a push-up water bra. That’s right, water. Those suckers were jiggly and perky because they were liquid and wires.

  But still, even knowing all that, she felt jealousy flooding her veins like a poison. It made her uncomfortable in her own skin. It was such an ugly emotion and she felt it contort her insides into something rotten.

  Back in college—back when they’d truly been friends—people used to say they looked like sisters. Back then she’d loved that compliment. They were both blonde with blue eyes. Both petite, but Camille was skinnier. She had that waif body that made all clothes look good on her. Olivia wasn’t overweight but she had a body—one made out of flesh and fat, not conveniently placed water sacks. Camille was also more stylish, more confident, more graceful, and a better dancer. But who was keeping score? Aside from Jessie, of course. He’d clearly made the comparison and declared Camille the winner.

  All year she’d been trying her best to forgive and forget, for her own peace of mind more than anything. The only problem was, that was so much easier said than done. She’d moved on, for the most part. She’d stopped obsessing over what had gone wrong or what Camille had done right. She’d come a long way this past year.

  But then again, most of the time they steered clear of her and she was only forced to interact when one of their mutual friends threw a get-together.

  Which begged the question…what were they doing at her bar?

  Jessie seemed to read her mind. But then, he’d always been good at that. He’d always been able to tell what she was thinking without her having to speak. “Sorry to drop in on you unannounced,” he started.

  “Yes, it’s clear you’re very busy.” Camille looked around pointedly. Her voice was all teasing laughter but Olivia found herself tensing up, as if she’d suddenly developed some sense of workplace pride.

  “We were in the neighborhood,” Jessie continued. “And we just wanted to say—”

  “Congratulations!” Camille cut in.

  They were finishing one another’s sentences these days. How sweet.

  Olivia still wore the same frozen smile she’d pasted on upon their arrival. Congratulations…for what?

  Camille leaned forward and put her hand over Olivia’s. “You must be so excited to finally graduate.”

  Right, graduation. Was it her imagination or was that “finally” just a wee bit condescending?

  Lena moved behind them, pretending to wipe down some tables and when Olivia caught her gaze she rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. Okay, yeah. She’d caught the condescension too.

  For the millionth time that year she thanked her lucky stars that Lena had come into her life when she had. Her other college friends were either not speaking to her—ahem, Drew—or were mutual friends of Jessie and Camille’s and hence not to be put in the middle. No one had outright said as much but it went without saying. She didn’t want to be that girl who made everyone around her uncomfortable by talking smack about her ex and his new girlfriend.

  They were both staring at her. Smiling at her. It was the nice smile that made her want to punch something. Instead she tucked some hair behind her ear. “Thanks. Yeah, it’s great to finally close that chapter.”

  Their nice smiles wilted a bit. She felt like the ice queen come to ruin their sunny day. They probably thought she was talking about them. About the cheating and the breakup and the heartbreak… But she hadn’t meant it like that. She wasn’t trying to be underhanded or passive-aggressive, she’d just meant she was ready for school to be over and real life to begin. This past year had felt like purgatory. The fun of college had come to an end with the dissolution of her friendships and social life. Aside from Lena, she’d had no friends left at school. She’d felt like the odd man out on campus. The old lady who’d hung around too long.

  Jessie recovered first. “So, are you still planning on going to LSU in the fall?”

  Olivia nodded quickly, glad for the save. By real life, she’d meant law school. It had always been the plan. Her father was a lawyer, her mother was a lawyer, it had always been a given that sh
e’d become a lawyer as well. Of course, in the “given” scenario, she graduated from undergrad in four years and with a perfect GPA.

  Neither of those had happened. But with two prominent lawyer alums for parents and an awesome LSAT score, she’d still managed to get in to her dream school. Well, her parents’ dream school.

  “You must be so excited,” Camille said. Her head was cocked to the side again but she’d recovered from Olivia’s previous statement and was smiling brilliantly once again. At least now she looked like an overly enthusiastic puppy instead of a puppy that had just been kicked.

  “I am,” Olivia said. “I really am.”

  She wasn’t.

  Frankly there were many things she would have preferred to do that did not include moving to Louisiana or going to school for three more years. But it was the path she’d chosen and there was no turning back now.

  Besides, she didn’t actually have any other ideas. Her best plan to date had involved circumnavigating the globe as a travel photographer. Seeing as she didn’t even own a real camera, that plan clearly needed some work.

  Awkward silence fell over the end of the bar and Olivia desperately wished the bartender would turn up the volume on the stereo. At least music would give them something to listen to other then the sound of Lena rattling chairs as she painstakingly cleaned the tables closest to them so she could eavesdrop. Or maybe a customer would walk in and she could pretend to work. She gave the front door a hopeful stare but it remained firmly closed.

  Camille broke the silence. “So…Livvy…”

  She cringed at the nickname. No one but Drew called her Livvy. He either called her Livvy or princess or buttercup. The last two were because she’d dragged him to go to a midnight screening of The Princess Bride freshman year and the joke had stuck, but Livvy was what he’d always called her from day one. Everyone else called her Olivia or Liv. Camille’s use of that name felt forced. Contrived. Like maybe she could fool them into thinking they were all still great friends.

  Not gonna happen.

  Camille straightened in her chair and her smile brightened. “Do you have a date for the wedding?”

  Olivia’s stomach sank and her mouth filled with saliva. She might throw up. How had she not planned for this the moment they walked through the door? She should have seen it coming. Of course Camille would want to talk about the wedding and of course they’d ask about her freakin’ plus one.

  She’d gotten Camille’s passive aggressive teasing texts about not saying who her plus one would be on the RSVP. She’d bet money the whole reason Camille came in here tonight was to get an answer. Would she or would she not be bringing a plus one? And, if so, who?

  Oh good Lord, why had she procrastinated on finding a date? Surely she could have found a friend of a friend if she’d really tried. Maybe one of her cousins could have set her up with someone. Or maybe she could have just brought a cousin….

  She opened her mouth and looked to Jessie with wide pleading eyes. Save me.

  He didn’t get the cue. Of all times to stop reading her mind, this was the lousiest. Unless he could read her mind, he knew very well that she had no date, and he just wanted to see her squirm.

  Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes narrowed with suspicion. That kind of thing seemed more like something Camille would do. She was the heartless, shallow bitch in the relationship. But maybe she was rubbing off on him.

  That thought more than anything else had the anger rising. The anger was always there, like a tide pool beneath the surface, just waiting for the tide to turn so it could be unleashed in a tidal wave.

  The thought of her sweet, sensitive Jessie turning into an asshole because he was marrying a backstabbing witch?

  The tide was coming in.

  Camille’s hopeful expression fell and she bit her lower lip in a way that could only be described as adorable. Damn it, she hated Camille.

  “Sorry,” Camille said in girlie singsong voice. “I hope that wasn’t a rude question.”

  Camille wasn’t sorry. Olivia had seen Mean Girls more times than she could count. This right here? This was textbook mean girl. She wanted to see Olivia look like a desperate loser. And Jessie… She turned to look at him once more. He was content to sit there and watch her squirm while his new fiancée made her look stupid.

  She saw red. Literally. She didn’t know that phrase actually meant a person saw the color red until that moment, but the blood was rushing to her head, all sounds in the bar drowned out by the pounding in her ears.

  Rational thinking ceased as she battled the urge to lash out in response. She lost the battle. Her mouth took over when reason met its glorious death.

  She shocked herself by the sweetness in her voice. Almost as syrupy and nice as Camille’s. “No, that wasn’t rude.”

  It was rude.

  “I have a date.”

  She didn’t have a date.

  She turned to Jessie and watched with a sense of triumph as his eyes widened slightly in surprise. That’s right, jackass, I’ve moved on.

  Not really.

  But he didn’t need to know that!

  “Who is it?” Camille asked.

  Olivia was dimly aware of Lena staring at her over Jessie’s shoulder, shock and horror clearly written on her face as she watched.

  She should stop. She should say she wasn’t sure yet. Or play coy and say it was still early on in their relationship or something. There were several ways she could still save herself, but they all required a rational mind.

  She’d forsaken reason for the far more gratifying quest for vengeance. She refused to overthink it. Refused to think about it at all, actually. The word just slipped out from between her lips as if summoned by a spell. “Drew.”

  The moment it came out, reason returned and horror had her choking for air. What was she saying? What had she done?

  For a second she let herself hope that she was imagining things. That she hadn’t really said his name, after all. All three of them had studiously avoided talking about him for a year. His name had become off-limits through an unspoken but tacit agreement. Drew had been the looming, but avidly ignored, elephant in the room for all these months. Surely she hadn’t just said that he was going to be her date to the wedding.

  But Jessie and Camille’s expression told her that yes, she definitely had said Voldemort’s name.

  She held her breath as she watched Jessie’s reaction. He’d flinched at first and now…oh hell. Now he looked at her with those big sad eyes asking her why?

  Why, Olivia? Why would you be so hurtful and cruel?

  She knew Jessie’s friend breakup with Drew must have been just as hard on him as it had been on her. They’d all been so close once upon a time. To go from that intimacy to the sort of distance that Drew had imposed. It was cold. Harsh, even. At least she’d made an attempt to stay friendly with her ex. Heck, she even made efforts to be nice to Camille. The least Drew could do was be civil to his former best friends. Did their history mean nothing to him?

  Camille was nibbling on her lower lip, looking unusually nervous as she glanced back and forth between Olivia and Jessie. “So,” she said to Olivia. “You and Drew still keep in touch?”

  She couldn’t read Camille’s expression. Her gaze was guarded, cagey. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Drew might be an awkward topic among the three of them. First, there was the fact that his epically awful karaoke night had somehow led to the final fight between her and Jessie. Aside from that, she happened to know without a doubt that Camille had harbored a crush on Drew for years. Years! While Olivia had gushed about her fabulous boyfriend Jessie, Camille would talk her ear off about the many myriad qualities that made Drew such a catch.

  Olivia looked from Camille to Jessie, who had steeled his expression. Did Jessie know his fiancée had a thing for his former best friend? If so, he couldn’t be pleased that he was coming to the wedding.

  For the first time since she’d said his name, Olivia didn’t feel so te
rrible. Sure she’d gotten herself into a mess, but picturing the kind of bickering that was about to ensue between the happy couple as they discussed Drew… She sighed quietly. It was almost worth it.

  It gave her a new sense of confidence. For once she had the upper hand while dealing with these two, even if it was based on lies. “Yeah, we’ve stayed in touch.” She gave a small shrug that she hoped would sell the fib. It seemed to work. Camille smiled again, back to her normal disingenuous self. “Well, that’s great. We can’t wait to see you both at the wedding. Isn’t that right, Jessie?”

  He nodded. “Hon, we should head out if we’re going to make our reservation.”

  Camille smiled up at him with such adoration, Olivia tried not to gag. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions under control as first Camille and then Jessie gave her a big hug and said their goodbyes.

  It wasn’t until the door closed behind them that she turned to meet Lena’s wide-eyed stare.

  “Oh girl,” Lena said, her voice tragically sad. “What have you done?”

  Chapter Two

  “This was your idea,” Olivia insisted for the tenth time as she dragged Lena down the block toward the club. Sheer panic had set in and adrenaline had her racing down the street, heedless of the throngs of drunk club goers who cluttered the sidewalk as they smoked their cigarettes and talked too loudly amongst themselves.

  As soon as Jessie and Camille left, reason had returned with a vengeance. So did her horror. Only a stiff drink and Lena’s constant reassurance that she could fix this situation before it blew out of control kept her from hyperventilating through the remainder of her shift. Luckily their boss had let them off early because it had been so slow, but Olivia hadn’t been able to go home. Not yet. Not until she handled this.

  “No, no, no,” Lena argued, her Puerto Rican accent more pronounced now that she’d had a few drinks under her belt. “I suggested you ask Drew to be your date. I didn’t say you should lie about him being your date without his permission.”