Don't drink and text.
Even on the cusp of forty, I had to learn that the hard way. After discovering my best friend-who I was supposed to grow old and single with-got engaged, I drowned my loneliness in one too many Old Fashioneds and woke up with thirty-nine responses from every available man in my phone. Including my plumber.
Apparently, my liquor-infused text said that while I don't need a man, maybe I'd be down for a constant sidekick for movies, plus-one invites, and dinner on the table after my grueling shifts as a concierge doctor-till death do us part. And two men are interested.
Behind Bachelor Door #1 is my old high school crush: the comfortable, dependable boy-next-door. Behind Bachelor Door #2 is the exciting, flashy news reporter about to hit it big. But Dax, the local bartender-who got me into this disaster in the first place-can't believe I've given up on finding true love. But what does a tattooed, broody twentysomething know about carving out a future for yourself, anyway?
Now the further I get into this hot mess, the less I know about who I am. And I'm going to have to figure out exactly what I need if I ever want to find a true happily ever after.
Even on the cusp of forty, I had to learn that the hard way. After discovering my best friend-who I was supposed to grow old and single with-got engaged, I drowned my loneliness in one too many Old Fashioneds and woke up with thirty-nine responses from every available man in my phone. Including my plumber.
Apparently, my liquor-infused text said that while I don't need a man, maybe I'd be down for a constant sidekick for movies, plus-one invites, and dinner on the table after my grueling shifts as a concierge doctor-till death do us part. And two men are interested.
Behind Bachelor Door #1 is my old high school crush: the comfortable, dependable boy-next-door. Behind Bachelor Door #2 is the exciting, flashy news reporter about to hit it big. But Dax, the local bartender-who got me into this disaster in the first place-can't believe I've given up on finding true love. But what does a tattooed, broody twentysomething know about carving out a future for yourself, anyway?
Now the further I get into this hot mess, the less I know about who I am. And I'm going to have to figure out exactly what I need if I ever want to find a true happily ever after.
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