3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Layla

Layla, it's Italy. Get over yourself. Just because your best friend can't make it anymore doesn't mean the trip is ruined.

Charlotte said she and Asher spent all night figuring out who her backup should be. And really, how could I be mad when my best friend is having a baby with my brother? I'm going to be an auntie again! I feel like Monica in Friends when Rachel and Ross announced they were having a baby. Actually, I'm probably a lot like Monica in real life. I'm a chef, she was a chef. I'm a bit neurotic, so was she.

I just hate that Charlotte is feeling so sick. She seems optimistic about it all despite not being able to keep a single thing down at the moment. She looked like a ghost when she video-called me last night. I was slightly alarmed for her health. I spent the next hour googling symptoms to make sure she wouldn't die from this. See…neurotic.

I wonder who they found to come to Italy with me on such short notice. My hope is that Avery will show up here at the gate. She would be a great companion to eat and drink our way through Italy .

Although, she does have a pretty shitty manager. I would be really shocked if she agreed to a week in Italy without knowing if her boss would be okay with it.

I glance at the clock by the gate number. We start boarding in fifteen minutes. Whoever the hell is coming better get a move on.

And I swear, if my mother is the best that they could do, I will walk out of this airport and slap Asher across the face. There is no way I could do a week alone in Italy with her. She would drive me insane. I'm sure she would go on another tangent about how wonderful William is and how I should give him another chance.

William is my ex-boyfriend—from high school. I mean, seriously, she needs to give it up. I'm twenty-seven years old now. But William is a family friend and our parents have been friends for years. He comes to a ton of our family parties—always there to make me feel like I'm the crazy one for not giving him another chance. He always says that if I were with him, I wouldn't have to work another day in my life.

He never considers the possibility that I might want to work. It shows how well he knows me. My job is the very thing that breathes life into me. No, to him, he wants the nineteen-fifties wife who will be there to smile on his arm at parties and be waiting at home for him with an apron on and a home-cooked meal. As Taylor Swift would say, "No deal. The nineteen-fifties shit they want from me."

Just as I'm about to pick up my phone to call Charlotte to let her know I'm out if it's my mother, I hear someone behind me clear their throat .

When I turn around, my heart flutters for a second before my stomach sours. I hate that he can still cause even the slightest bit of butterflies in me, even after all of these years.

He smirks at me, like he can tell my body is recoiling at the sight of him. "Hey, Freckles. Surprised to see me?"

There's no way he's here for me. Asher and Charlotte aren't that stupid. Surely, they would know that I would rather stick a pen in my eye than spend a week alone with this man.

"Please, tell me you're here to get on another flight. Did you just happen to see me and decide you wanted to ruin my morning?"

He chuckles, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Guess again."

"Cut the shit, Josh. There's no way you're Charlotte's replacement, right?"

"I believe I am. Surprised?"

He lifts his bag off his shoulder and places it on the ground at our feet.

"You are going to Italy—with me?" I ask, barely able to get the words out. "There's no way they would do this to me."

"Hey," he says, shrugging his shoulders, "I told them it was a stupid idea. But somehow, they thought I was a better choice than your mother."

I stop to think about that. Is he a better choice than my mom? I mean, he won't pester me about working less or finding someone to marry, and it's not like I have to spend every second with him.

Ugh, but this man in Italy is going to be annoying as hell. I'll bet he flirts with every woman in his line of sight .

But do I have a choice? Would I ruin my trip just because of him? That would be ridiculous. Zane would literally throw the biggest tantrum. He'd accuse me of finding any reason not to trust him and leave the restaurant to him for a week.

"If I let you come, are you going to spend the entire time flirting it up with the woman, or will you appreciate the culture and food like you're supposed to?"

I feel like I almost see a crack in his armor, showing a hint of pain at my insult, but then his eyes turn dark. "Will I flirt with all the women there? I don't know, you're enough of a mood killer to set the tone for a week of romancing all the women."

I gasp in surprise at his response. "That's it. There's no way in hell I'm going with you."

I grab my things and stomp away from him.

Okay, so I only make it like ten feet, but that's beside the point. I'm just trying to make a point that I don't want to be anywhere near him right now while I consider my options.

I grab my phone out of my back pocket and dial Charlotte.

"Hi," she says hesitantly. "I was waiting for your call."

"I thought you were my friend," I bark as my anger becomes a scolding fury. "How could you do this? And to not even warn me?"

"I know you're mad, but just give me a second to explain myself."

"Well, you have all the time in the world. Our plane is boarding in two minutes, but seeing as how I'm not going, you have all damn day. "

I feel his presence behind me, but don't have it in me to turn around and face him. Figures he can't even let me have this conversation alone.

"I knew if I told you last night, it would be impossible to get you to the airport," she starts.

"Yeah, exactly. You were correct. So, why the deceit?"

"Because Avery couldn't go! I mean, obviously, Asher was staying here with me, and your other brothers were busy working. It was nearly impossible to find someone who could just jet off the next morning without letting anyone at work know. But Josh works with Asher. Plus, I figured anyone was better than your mother," she says, her voice smooth but insistent.

"Yeah, but Josh?" I whisper into the phone. "You know how I feel about him. He'll make my trip miserable."

"No, he won't. He's been sworn to be on his best behavior. He knows how much you need this. Plus, we didn't get insurance on the trip. Are you telling me you're going to let all of this money go to waste just because of Josh?"

Dammit, she has me there. There's no way I can do that.

"See, you know I'm right," she continues. "Just get on the plane. And if he starts to act up, you give me or Asher a call and we'll have a word with him. And…" she stops talking abruptly.

"Charlotte? Are you okay?" I ask, wondering if I lost connection.

"I'm gonna be sick," she says in a faint whisper. "Gotta go."

"Shit," I mutter to myself as the line goes dead .

"We will now be boarding Group C for the flight from Savannah to New York," a male voice echoes on the intercom.

I glance down at the ticket in my hand, reminding me that I'm Group C.

"Shall we?" Josh grabs my bag from the ground and slings it over his shoulder.

I think this is happening. My brain is screaming at me to come up with a good excuse to get out of this as he walks towards the gate without a care in the world. Instead, I go through the motions of scanning my ticket and walking through the boarding bridge. Then as we walk on the plane, I realize this is it. There is no backing out now.

We take our seats in business class, which was one of my splurges for the trip. I push my purse under the seat in front of me, then let my head fall back on the headrest and close my eyes.

"Aw, come on. Cheer up. I'm not that bad, am I?" his voice washes over me.

I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see the smug face he must be wearing. I can tell how much he is loving this. His favorite hobby is pissing me off.

"This is supposed to be a break for me. I'm supposed to be working on finding myself outside of my work," I whisper, more to myself than to him.

I expect him to say some smartass response, but when nothing comes, I open my eyes.

"What makes you think I will get in the way of that?" he asks with no hint of sarcasm .

"Are you serious? You seem to do everything in your power to annoy me. You know you get some kind of sick pleasure out of it."

His eyes are flat and unreadable. Instead of responding, he pulls out his headphones and places them over his ears. I guess that's my cue to leave him alone.

Fine by me.

I reach into my purse and pull out my earbuds, then find a movie on my phone. The short flight to New York is over quickly. I'm too focused on getting to our connecting flight to bother talking to Josh. He's been oddly silent since our flight took off. It's almost as if my comment hurt his feelings.

But it's not like I'm wrong. I've said that to him before. I don't know why he's acting like I haven't or like it's not true. He does like to annoy me.

Once we're settled on our connecting flight, the silence has gotten under my skin. Plus, we have an eight-hour flight ahead of us.

"Did I say something wrong before? Like… did I, uh… hurt your feelings?" I stumble awkwardly through my words. I'm not used to asking about his feelings, but if I'm forced to be alone with him for a week, I'm not going to be able to handle the cold shoulder. It'll grate on me.

He hesitates, taking his time to lower his headphones. "I'm not trying to ruin this trip for you. Did you ever think I'm doing this for you? I have a lot going on at work, but I packed up everything on a whim so you could have this time away from work."

I never thought of it like that. I guess he did put all his life on hold to come here with me. And here I thought it was just so he could torture me—like that's the only possibility there could be.

Before I can speak again, he continues, "And I know we don't always get along, but that's not all on me. Despite what you want to believe, you play a role in that, too."

Well, I don't know if I'd go as far as to say I play a role in it. I mean, I may give him shit, but it's only because he deserves it.

It has nothing to do with a broken heart or anything. I'm over what he did to me all those years ago.

Whatever the reason for our disdain for one another, it would be nice to try and put that aside for the trip. He's clearly trying to do that.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I guess I didn't think about you having to drop everything. Thanks, I guess, for doing that."

He chuckles to himself. "I'll take that half-assed apology."

Then he puts on his headphones and ends our conversation abruptly again.

Ugh, this man is so infuriating. I throw my head back against my seat and do my best to suppress my groan so I don't freak out the other person sitting next to me.

How hard is it to just accept my apology? I mean, it wasn't the best, but I tried.

This is going to be the trip from hell. Not only is my best friend not here, but the man who broke my heart and left me to pick up the pieces is accompanying me instead.