If Only

Two

Charlotte Bartlett

I pulled into the parking garage in my black Jeep Wrangler. It had been my dream car since I was a teen, and when I finally saved enough money, I couldn't help but buy it as a reward for pushing through hell the past few years.

I didn't grow up spoiled. Yes, I grew up in a nice house but worked for everything I had. Sneaking out later or slipping out after school to tend to my secret jobs.

At a young age, I learned to forge my parents' signatures. I'm not saying it's right to do so, but I had no other choice. They were never around, so it wasn't that much of a problem unless they had to be there in person.

It taught me to appreciate everything life has to offer and hard work. Fortunately, after graduating summa cum laude, I scored myself a position at the New Yorker as a journalist. But due to a birthright, it was taken from me. I had to join my family's publishing company, not that I hated it, but not that I loved it either.

I pulled my car into its spot and slammed my door in frustration. When I walked into the building, he stood with a smile on his face, as usual. "Good afternoon, Miss Charlotte."

"Denzel" I curtsied as usual as he laughed softly. He was the kind 78-year-old doorman who was always there to greet people.

I went to the elevator, stepped inside, and pressed the button to level 14. Gwen Stefani had been a real one today, pulling me through with Halla Back Girl blasting in my mind. After a few seconds, the doors opened to my floor, and I impatiently walked down the long hall. I twisted my keys in the lock and entered to see Grace at the island table with a glass of rosé in hand.

"Hey! Welcome home!" she sang making her way to envelope me into a hug.

"Can you pour me a glass?" She smiled like a proud mom and nodded. She was a bad influence at points but lovable.

"Anything for you, my love! We are going to have so much fun tonight, let loose!" Letting loose did not sound like fun to me.

"The goal is to get Megan a date home."

"Oh, a bedroom date?" I teased.

"Exactly a bedroom date," Megan sighed, walking into the kitchen. I raised a brow. What a month! Okay, not all of us are happy like you in a relationship, Grace."

"I was," I mumbled, drawing their eyes to me.

"Charlie, he was a bad guy, and" Grace sighed, looking between us, "I'm not in a relationship anymore. Luke and I did not work out." Our eyes both shot at Grace.

"What! When, what happened? Are you okay?" I approached her, taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze.

"He walked in with a Mohawk, and I walked out." We were all silent for a moment and then burst into laughter.

"You have to be less judgmental!" Megan scolded her, "But I'd probably do the same."

"You guys are such haters! I think Mohawks can be cool at points."

"That's because you're blind" Megan poked my side, I frowned and Grace put her hands on my shoulders to ease the tension.

"Let's get shit-faced and have a good time, okay? No past boys... only future lovers!"  She spins me slightly to try and get a rise out of me, but I remain a grump.

"Now let's get ready because it will take Grace three hours." I giggled in agreement, stepping away as Grace looked flustered at us.

"Oh shut it, I always look fabulous. May I remind you?" She walked off to her room, slamming the door for dramatic effect.