Chapter 23

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On the morning of my twenty-fifth birthday, I brew a pot of coffee and sit at my kitchen table, feeling the morning sunshine on my face. I spend a few hours watching television and then another few hours thinking about Ben and how I've never celebrated a birthday without him.

I stare at my phone, finger hovering over his contact information. It's been two weeks since we last spoke and one week since Michelle told me she saw him on a date. Maybe the longer I stare at my phone, the more likely it will ring with a call from Ben. So when my phone rings in my palm, I am hopeful, if only for a brief and fleeting moment, until I see Blake Donahue's phone number, Ben's rival realtor.

I click on his call. He's called to tell me his clients accepted Ms. van den Berg's counteroffer on the Gold Coast listing. This is excellent news. I've successfully sold her property in record time. When I hang up on the call, I jump onto my couch and do a little victory dance. This is the best birthday present ever. I've successfully closed a deal on a million-dollar listing.

I fricken did it.

I immediately called Ms. van den Berg to tell her the good news, but she didn't answer. I leave her a voicemail and walk into my kitchen to make breakfast. As I am scrambling eggs on the stovetop, my phone rings again. This time, it's a call from my boss, Clint. He's called to congratulate me on closing the deal and invites me to his office this afternoon for some champagne to celebrate. I can't say no - even though it's Saturday and my birthday – so I tell him yes and that I will see him in a few hours.

After breakfast, I shower quickly, blow-dry my hair, apply makeup, and then answer a string of birthday calls; I get a call from my mother, grandmother, and finally, my crazy cousin Tiffany. By the time I hang up from Tiffany's call, it's already past noon.

I quickly searched for my black boyfriend blazer to add a professional look to my dark wash jeans and a white t-shirt. Finally, when I leave my apartment, I flag down a cab and head to the office. I arrived ten minutes late to my meeting with Clint. As I walk into the office, my phone vibrates with a text message from Jessica:

Happy birthday to my bestest bitch!

I sent her a quick text back:

Thank you ☺

She responds instantly:

Remember, we are celebrating with drinks tonight! See you later, old lady ☺

It may be because closing this real estate deal should mean margaritas with Ben or because it reminds me of my pending birthday celebration. Still, it unwinds something in me to take control of this situation with Ben. I'm a little light-headed with emotions- so much relief and everything. I don't want to meet with Clint or text Jessica. I want Ben.

I fumble my phone when Clint approaches me, stuffing it back into my purse.

"Megan, there you are," he says, smiling. "Hurry up. We're waiting for you in my office."

I follow him down the hallway and step into his office. The first thing I see is Ms. van den Berg sitting on a sofa. She stands to greet me, and I shake her hand.

She's very stylish for an older woman. Her silver hair is pulled back neatly into a bun, and her makeup looks natural on her Botox-infused skin. She's wearing a tweed pantsuit with gold jewelry draping from her neck, wrists, and fingers.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," I tell her. "I was stuck on the phone with family. It's my birthday today."

She nods, smiling. "Happy Birthday. We're so glad you could make it, dear." She pats the empty cushion beside her on the sofa, and I sit down.

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