My One and Only. Kristan Higgins

know? He’d never looked me up on Google? Never? In the past twelve years, yes, I’d had a moment of weakness or two (five, actually) in which I’d typed in his name, but before the Internet could torment me with information, I’d had the sense to slap another key and stop my impulse. Apparently, the urge to look me up had never struck Nick.

      Whatever. Time to be sociable. “So, Emily, you work with Willa?” I said, favoring the pretty brunette with a smile and taking another bite of bread. “Mmm-hmm.”

      “And what do you do?”

      “I’m a drafter.” At my look of confusion, she added, “I draft the architectural plans at Nick’s.” She sent a look of bovine adoration his way.

      I stopped chewing. “Nick’s?”

      She glanced at Willa. “Um, yeah. We both work for Camden & Lowery. Nick’s firm.”

      I looked at my sister. “Really. How nice.”

      I sat there for a minute or two, long enough to say, “I’ll have the same thing” when the waitress was done with Dennis, though I had no idea what he’d ordered. Then I excused myself, smiling, kissed Den on the cheek and hightailed it to the ladies’ room. Leaned against the sink and pressed my cold hands to my hot cheeks. The door opened a second or two later, and Willa gave me a cute little grimace.

      “You’re working for Nick?” I blurted.

      “Okay, calm down,” she said.

      “Willa! I—You should’ve—” I took a quick breath. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is that how you ran into Christopher? Why didn’t you say something?”

      “Harper, chill,” she said calmly, scootching up to sit on the counter. “Look. I’d been in the city about a month, not finding any work, okay? Money was running out—”

      “Right! Which is why I told you not to leave that stonemasonry program until you had a job! And I also offered to loan you—”

      “You already did loan me,” she said. “That’s the thing. I wanted to make it on my own.”

      “So you went to him? To Nick? To my ex-husband, Wills?” My mouth wobbled, but luckily, the door opened, revealing a middle-aged woman in a sweatshirt that showed a moose dancing over the word Montana.

      “Occupied!” I barked, and she jerked back. But it gave me a much-needed second to get myself under control. I hadn’t cried in years. Wasn’t about to now.

      “It was literally an accident,” Willa said. “I had an interview down in SoHo, which just sucked, by the way, they were so mean and it was for, like, a barista at a coffeehouse, you know, and they were grilling me on the growing conditions necessary for organic arabica and whatever. So I didn’t even get that job, I had eight dollars left in the bank, and I’m walking down this little bumpy street, the cobblestones are everywhere in SoHo, you know?”

      “Yes, I’ve been there,” I said tightly.

      “And I look up and see a sign. Camden & Lowery Architecture. I figured, what are the odds of that being Nick? I remembered him as so nice, you know?”

      I gave her a lethal look, which she ignored. “So I went in and there he was, and he was so surprised and happy to see me, and I told him I was looking for work, and guess what?”

      “What?”

      “His secretary was going on maternity leave. So he hired me.”

      My stomach was in a knot. “Willa—”

      Once again, the door opened, and Dancing Moose Woman was back. “Still occupied,” I said. “My sister’s sick, okay?”

      “Projectile vomiting,” Willa agreed. “Splat. Very disgusting.”

      “Well, how long do you think you’ll be?” the woman asked with a frown.

      “Long time,” Willa said sweetly. “But there’s another bathroom on the other side of the lobby. Oops, here it comes, more barf. You better go.”

      “Feel better, honey,” the lady said, jerking back.

      That did the trick. It also reminded me of why Willa got away with what she did. She…well, she was lovable. Good with people, sweet, funny. I could see why Nick would hire her…not just to mess with my head (though one couldn’t rule that out), but simply because Willa was awfully nice.

      I cleared my throat. “Willa, did it ever occur to you that I’d like to know something like that?”

      She sighed. “Sorry. It’s just…you and he were so long ago. And I really needed the job.”

      “So how’d you meet Chris?” I asked.

      “He came in on my first day. That’s why it was so…you know. Meant to be.” She reached out and took my hand. “I’m sorry. I was just a little desperate.”

      “I would’ve helped you,” I said.

      “I didn’t want to be helped.”

      “Well, Nick helped you. Why was it okay to ask Nick and not me?”

      “Because he actually needed something I could do,” she said gently. “And you never have.”

      “What utter crap.” I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror and turned away abruptly.

      “It’s not crap. It’s true, Harper. You never need anything from anyone.”

      We didn’t say anything for a minute.

      “Willard! You still in there? We’re doing a game, honey! Weddin’ night Mad Libs! Come on, sluggo! Is your sister in there with you?”

      “We’re here, BeverLee,” I called. “We’ll be out in a sec.”

      “Are we okay?” Willa asked me.

      I nodded. “Sure.”

      “I didn’t mean to keep it a secret…I just wasn’t sure how to handle it.”

      “Well, letting me find out at dinner…uncool.”

      “Sorry.” She gave me a repentant little grin.

      “Willa,” I said, “you know I want you to be happy.”

      “I know,” she said, her smile growing.

      “We haven’t been able to have a real conversation since you told me the big news. I just want to state for the record that I’m…I’m really worried that rushing into marriage is going to result in another disappointment for you.”

      “And I appreciate your concern,” she said calmly.

      “When you marry someone you barely know, it doesn’t usually end well. And divorce…sucks.”

      “I know, Harper. I’ve been divorced twice as many times as you.”

      “So why are you in such a hurry?”

      “Why waste time? If you love someone, I think you should go for it. And I’m not getting divorced this time. I really love Christopher.” Her eyes took on a flinty look.

      I tried to make my voice gentle. “You loved Raoul and Calvin, too.”

      “Christopher doesn’t have a prison record, and he’s definitely not gay. I’m older and wiser now. Okay? Can’t you just be happy for us? I know it’s hard for you to have faith in the world, but I do. And you’re my maid of honor, so you have to stop being so doom and gloom, okay?”

      “Willa…”

      “And by the way, do you think you could be nice to Nick?”

      I sighed. “I’ve been very civilized. We’re even having a drink later on.”

      “Oh, that’s great! Thank you, Harper!” She clapped her hands and