we’re going to get engaged soon.

On Saturday, Brady and I stayed in bed literally all morning. We were talking and fooling around and I decided to ask about the George situation.

“So why were you so mad on Wednesday night?” I asked him.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, almost laughing.

I narrowed my eyes at him, preparing to explain to him that no, I was not kidding and his whole tantrum was unwarranted. But then his phone rang and he said, “Sorry. I’m going to take this.”

Brady got out of bed and answered his phone with, “Hola.”

And then he proceeded to have an entire five minute long conversation in Spanish. Even though I took two years of Spanish in high school not a single thing stuck with me so I sat there on the bed looking dumbstruck.

When Brady hung up the phone I said, “What the fuck?”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “Hmm?”

“You speak Spanish?” I asked. 

. I thought I was going to live in South America for a while. Didn’t we talk about this?”

“Uh, no.” If he can keep the fact that he is fluent in another language, what other secrets does he have? “So who were you talking to?”

“Just one of my buddies,” he answered.

“One of your ‘buddies?’ Are you a part of a drug cartel?” I was kind of joking, but mostly serious. It would explain quite a few things.

Brady laughed way too hard at my “joke.” It wasn’t that damn funny. When he saw that I wasn’t laughing with him, Brady said, “Of course not, Reese. That’s ridiculous. I was talking to my friend, Raul. He’s flying in today for the marathon. I’m picking him up from the airport later.”

Is it just me or does “Raul” sound like the name of a Mexican drug lord? I told him I wanted to meet Raul then changed the subject back to Wednesday night.

“So why were you embarrassed? Honestly, I think George is the one who should’ve been embarrassed,” I said.

“Reese, you were all over him. It’s one thing to be friendly, but you were practically sitting in his lap the entire night,” Brady explained, sounding really frustrated with me.

“Okay, well next time I will just be a rude bitch to your coworkers,” I said.

“I’m not telling you to do that. You just took it too far. You should’ve seen the disgusted look Deb had on her face.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you how to be an adult,” Brady said. 

I blinked.

“And then you and your friends were acting like complete idiots. I thought you would have more [he used a word I’ve never heard before here]. I have a professional image to uphold.”

I really wanted to point out that he wasn’t concerned about his “professional image” when he was getting his dick sucked in a room in the hospital, but I knew that would just start a fight.

“Okay. Next time I’ll try to act less like myself and more like a professional adult,” I said, hoping he caught on to my sarcasm.

“That would be great. I apologize for kind of blowing up on you. I was extremely frustrated.”

“It’s fine. I almost got kidnapped by a homeless man on my way to the bus stop because I was crying and couldn’t see where I was going. But it’s fine!”

We got dressed and got Portillo’s then went to pick up Raul from the airport. I definitely thought Raul was going to be huge and bald with a teardrop tattoo on his face. He was the exact opposite. 

Brady introduced us in Spanish and I said, “Does he like, not know any English?” 

Brady turned and gave me a discreet “shut the fuck up” look so I said, “Mucho gusto,” in an American white girl accent.

I let Raul have the front seat when we rode back to Brady’s. They spoke Spanish the entire way so I guess Raul really doesn’t speak English. I wanted to test my theory by saying, “Brady, I want you to cum on my tits later,” but decided against it. Like I said, I’m trying to be more mature.

I hung out with them for approximately ten minutes at Brady’s house, but it was hard because of the language barrier. Since they were running the marathon in the morning, Brady didn’t want to go out or anything so Carly and I decided to go to a party in the suburbs.

She came over to get ready then I drove us to the party. Carly is really bad with directions and after we got lost about four times, we finally made it. It was at some hockey player named Nico’s house and apparently he has parties all the time. Carly introduced us and we hung out and drank with Nico and one of his friends.

I was tipsy and talking to Nico about hockey and life. Carly pulled me aside and said, “Reese, you’re flirting with him.”

“I am not!” I exclaimed. I would totally admit if I was flirting and out of line, but I legitimately was not. Nico was hot, but I wasn’t even attracted to him like that.

“How would you feel if Brady was acting like that with a girl? Did you even tell Nico that you have a boyfriend?” Carly asked.

Good point. I actually hadn’t told Nico about Brady, but then again it hadn’t come up. Is that something you’re supposed to tell someone of the opposite sex right away?

I turned back to Nico and he offered me a shot. After we took it, I told him that I have a boyfriend and we’re probably going to get engaged soon. Nico didn’t seem very interested in me after that, but it was okay because I had fun anyway.

We left at around one and I honestly should not have been driving. Carly insisted she knew her way back, but we ended up in some dark ass neighborhood in the middle of nowhere. I finally got out my phone to put my address into GPS since obviously Carly had no idea where we were.

While we were pulled over and I was pulling up directions, a fucking Buick or some ugly ass car came barreling down the street and side swiped the shit out of us. They physically moved my car and the impact knocked my phone out of my hand.

It took Carly and I a few moments to realize what happened, but by the time we did, the other car was long gone. Those assholes didn’t even stop.

“Reese, are you okay? Should we call 911?” Carly screamed.

I tried to jump out to assess the damage, but my drivers side door would barely open. After I used my body to push the door open, I saw that the entire drivers side of my car was dented and white from their paint.

“What the fuck!” I yelled. “My car is all fucked up. And I can’t even call the police because I’m fucking drunk!”

Carly got out and we mulled over our options then finally decided we should just get home.

This morning was the Chicago Marathon and Brady, Chris, and John were running in it so Carly, Kendra and I woke up super early, bundled up and got lattes to go watch them. This got really boring because there were so many people and we couldn’t even see anything so we got wine and walked back to my apartment.

Later in the day I went to Brady’s and showed him my car.

“Holy shit,” he said. “What happened?”

I explained the story, blaming Carly for the whole thing since it’s her fault we got lost and ended up in that sketch neighborhood.

Brady told me that I could file a police report and then file a claim with my insurance to fix the damages. Ugh. I don’t want to have to file a claim – my insurance is already high enough. Why do I have such bad luck with cars? Maybe I just shouldn’t have one.


what a fail.

On Tuesday I decided that I was going to make dinner for Brady. I don’t ever cook, but I thought it would be a nice gesture. I found a recipe for homemade ravioli on Pinterest that didn’t seem too complicated and made a grocery list for after work.

$170 later, I headed home with all the ingredients I needed (including a pastry wheel, a rolling pin, and a bottle of wine). I started with the pasta dough which seemed fairly easy – pour the flour on a flat surface, make a “well” for the egg yolks, oil and milk, mix.

Well, it didn’t work out like that. I didn’t want to touch the raw eggs with my bare hands so I tried to use a spoon. That obviously didn’t work. My dough came out super runny. I added more flour but it ended up crumbling into pieces. I tried again and decided that I would follow the recipe exactly by using my hands. I sucked it up and mixed the dough with my hands, but again it came out runny (later found out that I read the recipe wrong and should’ve added more flour, of course).

At this point, I was annoyed and decided I would start on the filling then come back to the dough. I was making a spinach and mozzarella filling and the first step was to wilt the spinach down with olive oil and garlic. Easy enough. I added the garlic and olive oil and then dumped the entire bag of spinach in the pan. My mom called and I excitedly told her about the meal I was making. I knew she would be proud.

She started telling me about how one of my favorite teachers from high school is under investigation for having sex with one of his students. I was shocked and realized that could have so easily been me. I flirted with him endlessly my junior and senior years because he was hot plus math was really hard. He never really budged or showed any interest (except buying a ton of cookie dough from me during our fundraiser for new uniforms). Maybe I just wasn’t hot enough for him to hook up with.

I was so engrossed in the conversation with my mom that I forgot all about the spinach on the stove until I smelled burning garlic. The pan was smoking so I told my mom I had to call her back. The majority of the spinach was black and burned with the garlic. How does that even happen?

By then, Brady was due in thirty minutes and my ravioli was nowhere near being done. What a fail. I knew that I had to cook something so I decided to stick with what a know how to make: grilled cheese. Plus that was all I really had time for. I had fresh mozzarella left from my ravioli disaster so I used it to make two sandwiches. I plated them with vintage Hermès plates with a basil leaf garnish. Chicest grilled cheese ever.

I buzzed Brady in and the first thing he said was, “Did you burn something?”

Ugh. Definitely should’ve opened a window.

“Are you ready to eat?” I asked, ignoring his question.

“Mmm, yes. What did you make?” Brady said.

I led him to my tiny table and chairs. “Gourmet grilled cheese!” I squealed.

“Looks great.” Brady went to sit down, but I yelled for him to stop.

“I need to take a picture for Instagram,” I explained.

He waited patiently while I uploaded the photo of our food and wine (and my fabulously decorated table) with the caption “Made dinner for bae.” I immediately got several likes.

After we ate, we were still hungry so we made pizza rolls. I poured us more wine and we took it along with our pizza rolls and Oreos to the couch. We started watching some baseball game and stayed up talking until 1:00 AM. 

On Wednesday, I hung out with Preston and Dillon. We went to this natural tea place Preston has been dying to try and all their drinks are named stuff like “Happiness” and “Purity.” I got “Tranquility” because obviously that’s what I need in my life.

We sat outside and I told them about my latest bout of craziness with Brady. Preston obviously laughed for several minutes then gave Dillon a brief overview of my relationship with Brady.

“Poor guy. He has no idea what he’s gotten himself into,” Preston said, wiping his laughter tears away.

“I’ve decided that I’m going to let myself be vulnerable though. I think I’ve been so crazy with him because I have a guard up,” I said.

“Good for you,” Preston said and his face turned serious. “I don’t think he has any intention to hurt you, love bug. And if he does, just know that you have amazing friends who will help you slash his tires and hack into his Facebook.”

I laughed because that was true. You don’t even want to know what kind of trouble my friends and I got into in college.

Dillon spent the rest of the evening telling me his life story which would have been really annoying if it wasn’t completely entertaining. He said he’s 19 and moved here from San Diego. His house burned down two years ago and apparently his family’s insurance didn’t cover all the losses so they had to dip into his college fund and now he has no money to go to school. So tragic. He’s hoping to break into acting and dance and has been an extra in those awful Step Up movies. He moved to Chicago because of the theater opportunities and was homeless for his first few months here. Luckily he met a kind person who not only helped him pay for school, but also gave him a place to live. What a wonderful story.

I texted Brady while I was out and asked if he wanted to come over. He said he was working late so I invited Preston and Dillon over. I couldn’t help checking Jessica’s Facebook to see if she checked in anywhere or tagged Brady in anything. She didn’t. Is it unhealthy that I do that? I’ve been checking her page obsessively the last few days and all I see are pictures of her and her friends. I thought about deleting her, but then I won’t catch it if she does tag Brady in something.


you need a massage.

I was having so much fun hanging out with Brady that I forgot that during the week he works twelve to fourteen hours a day and is exhausted by the time he gets off. He has such a large workload that he can’t text a lot either. I needed a distraction and all of my usual friends were busy (Kendra with her new position at work, Preston with Mr. Murphy and Carly with Chris) so I had dinner and drinks with my college friend, Derrick, on Monday night.

This is going to sound weird, but I can’t really be friends with guys (straight guys anyway. I love my gays). Whenever I’ve had a guy friend, we started off fine as friends then end up hooking up or one of us starts getting feelings for the other. I think it’s because I don’t know how to talk to guys without being flirty. [does anyone else have this problem?]

Derrick had a big crush on me our sophomore year of college and I used to flirt with him just because I thought it was fun(ny). We ended up getting drunk and fooling around then ultimately decided we were better as friends. Obviously. He became one of my favorite drinking buddies though.

We met for sushi. He works in advertising here in the city so we talked about work a lot. We also talked about our college friends, most of whom I haven’t seen since we graduated so there was a lot to talk about. Derrick is one of those people you can not see for years but feel like no time has passed. He kind of gives off a Jake Gyllenhaal vibe, but cuter. 

“You’ve really grown up a lot since college. It’s crazy, you used to be such a party girl and now you’re a mature woman,” Derrick said once the night was winding down.

“Well, that was over two years ago,” I pointed out. “And don’t call say ‘mature woman.’ Makes me sounds like a grandma.”

“Stop that. You don’t look like a grandma. In fact, I think you’ve grown into your looks.”

I swatted him in the chest playfully. “Don’t be mean!”

“I’m not. You look great, honestly.”

He insisted on paying for everything then we headed outside.

“Let’s do this again, Reese,” Derrick said once we got outside. He put an arm around me and leaned down to kiss me, but I quickly turned my head so he caught my cheek/ear.

“Yeah, whatever,” I said.

We agreed that we would hang out again soon. I hope Derrick isn’t going to try this again because I’m not interested in him romantically whatsoever.

I left work early on Tuesday so I could meet Preston at Barney’s to look at dresses. We ended up spending two and a half hours in the dress department, trying on every single thing. The salesgirl kept trying to help us (probably to prevent the huge mess we would leave), but Preston told her that I’m an actress and he’s my personal stylist so we had it under control. She stopped bothering us luckily, but I didn’t even pick anything out. 

We went back to my apartment afterwards and started watching reruns of Chopped. I got a text from Brady around 7:30 saying that he had just gotten off and did I want to meet up. I didn’t even blink before responding, “Sure. You can come over.”

“Preston, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Brady’s coming over,” I said, getting up.

“Pardon me?” he gasped. “You’re kicking me out?”

“Yes. Doesn’t Mr. Murphy have a day trip to Jamaica or something planned?”

“No, but we’re probably going to have a ton of wild sex though. Jelly?”

I was jelly. I can’t wait for the day when Brady and I can have a ton of wild sex (is he even into wild sex? I bet he isn’t).

As soon as Preston left, I tidied up a bit. I threw out the copies of Cosmo I had on my coffee table and replaced them with an old marketing textbook from college, a leadership book I had to read for work and the Fifty Shades trilogy (the books are awful, but they’re all I had on hand and I wanted to show Brady that I actually read). 

When he got to my apartment I buzzed him in and waited for him to knock. A few minutes later there was a light, almost timid knock on the door. Of course Brady would knock shyly. I opened the door and he was standing there looking a-freaking-dorable in his dress clothes.

“Come in,” I said, opening the door wider.

Brady walked in and said, “I’ve never been up here. Pretty cool place.”

“Thanks, it’s a little small, but it works,” I said.

I showed him the kitchen, the little dining area, my bedroom, the bathroom then concluded with the living room.

“This is sufficient for one person. And I’m sure the location makes it worth it,” Brady said.

I grabbed us bottles of water and we sat on the couch talking. I asked him to tell me about work since he’s there so much. He explained having to do rounds and see all the patients, including the terminally ill ones which I think is sad. He said he has to walk a ton which is tiring and then since there are sick people the hospital is warm so he’s hot in his work clothes and lab coat all day. Poor guy. He said seeing the patients get better is worthwhile so overall he loves what he does. It made me feel like my job is pretty pointless because ultimately, who am I helping?

“You need a massage,” I told him, getting up. I gestured for him to follow me into the bedroom. “Take off your shirt and lay on the bed.”

“Wow, you mean business,” Brady said, untying his tie.

I rummaged through my closet to find some unscented lotion. Whenever I used to give my ex-boyfriend massages we would almost immediately have sex. There’s just something erotic about massages so I knew it was risky. But we were both sober and it has been long enough, so maybe tonight was the night. I wasn’t opposed to it.

Brady was laying on his back shirtless looking delectable and even though I was enjoying the view I made him flip over. I climbed on him and planted myself on his butt for optimum massage positioning. I squirted one pump of lotion in my hands, rubbed them together and lightly touched Brady’s back. He instantly relaxed.

I ran my hands along the length of his back and used my palms to apply pressure. I’ve been told that I give great massages, but honestly my little hands get tired after only a few minutes. Since it was my idea, I knew I had to last a little longer with Brady. I continued rubbing and kneading his back for a few more minutes. For a guy, Brady has unusually smooth and perfect skin. I really must find out his skin care routine.

“Better?” I asked once I felt like I had carpal tunnel.

“I feel like a new person,” Brady said. He flipped over so he was on his back and I was sitting on his crotch. My heart instantly started beating faster when I felt that he was hard.

“I’ve been told I give decent massages,” I said.

“I certainly agree with that. Where do I sign up for a once a week session?”

“Ask the receptionist when you leave.”

“Do you want to grab food or something?” Brady asked abruptly and for a moment I couldn’t tell if we were still in character.

I wasn’t particularly hungry, but I said, “Sure,” anyway.

We got up and he put his shirt back on while I changed into jeans and a top. We ended up getting froyo then we walked around my neighborhood for a little while. It was a little bit chilly so after we were done with our froyo, we held hands to warm each other up. 

It started to get late and Brady said he needed to be up early for work. He said he might be able to hang out again later this week and he would let me know.


i need to read the dictionary.

Kendra had us all over for dinner on Tuesday evening. She made some sort of chicken, broccoli and rice dish that was delicious. Ever since John moved in, Kendra has turned into a complete grandma/stay at home wife. We used to do everything together and get crazy every weekend. Now I barely see her. Just like I suspected.

After we left Kendra’s, Preston came over. I hadn’t heard from Brady at all since Friday night so I wasn’t sure if we were still going to dinner. I know we were both completely trashed when we agreed on it, but still. Drunk words = sober thoughts? 

Preston convinced me to text him to confirm and before I could talk myself out of it, I said, “Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?” 

Almost immediately he responded, “If you want.”

I read it over several times. “If you want.” Excuse me? Of course I wanted to! Didn’t he want to, too? Before I could show Preston and have a complete freak out, Brady texted me again. 

“I will probably be at the hospital until 8:30 or 9, but we could do something after that.”

That was more like it.

“Okay, just let me know. :-)” I said back. 

Preston helped me find an outfit that would work no matter what we decided to do (late fancy dinner, late casual dinner, drinks, Taco Bell, rendezvous in his car, etc). We picked out a romper, a printed kimono and wedges with my hair in a fishtail braid. I hope he thinks I look cute.

When I got to work on Wednesday, Whitney followed me into my office.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“Okay… What about?” I said back.

She shut my door for privacy. “The comments you said to Aron on Monday were extremely inappropriate and unprofessional.”

“What comments?” 

I had no idea what the girl was talking about. I vaguely remembered talking to Aron on Monday, but I couldn’t even recall what was said.

“That I told Diana about you and BJ, that I’m drama, that I wanted to get you fired because I’m jealous if you. He told Amanda everything. Reese, we are all adults here. There is no need to gossip.”

Wtf? I had to stand there thinking for a moment. Then I remembered that on Monday I talked to Aron in the break room during lunch. He asked how I was doing after the whole situation and I told him that I was fine and it sucked that people were gossiping. He mentioned that Amanda told him that Whitney was the one who informed Diana about BJ and me and I rolled my eyes and said I wasn’t surprised. That was the extent of our conversation. I didn’t elaborate on the Whitney issue (even though I wanted to) and certainly didn’t claim she was jealous of me or anything like that. And there were a lot of people in the break room while we were talking, including Amanda, but I never said anything directly to her. Which means that not only was Amanda eavesdropping, but she also lied about what she heard. Unless Aron lied to her about what we talked about, but that doesn’t seen like something he would do. 

“Whitney,” I said as calmly as I could. “I didn’t say that about you at all. One of them is lying. If you want to get caught up with what a bunch of people are talking about then that’s on you, but I’m not. I’m not doing this. I am almost twenty five years old and I have a job to do.”

Whitney saw how upset I was getting and her face softened. “Really? I didn’t think you would say that, but I just wanted to make sure.”

I didn’t say anything so she continued.

“All of this is getting blown out of proportion. I don’t know what happened with you and BJ, but it’s really none of my business and I don’t want to get involved at all…”

“You’ve already involved yourself.”

Whitney looked frightened. “I think BJ is the real problem here. I’m so glad he’s gone.”

“Okay, well I’m going to get to work. Have a nice day,” I said, ushering her out.

Ugh. So I’m really irritated with Amanda/Aron/Whitney for trying to create even more drama. 

After work, I stopped and got a facial and a mani/pedi. I needed to relax before hanging out with Brady. I started getting ready at 7:00 so I had plenty of time. 

Brady texted me at 8:40: “I’m just getting off work so I can come get you whenever you’re ready.”

Obviously, I was already ready and just sitting on my couch drinking a Red Bull and watching Keeping Up With The Kardashians. I texted back, “I’m actually ready now.” 

I hoped I didn’t sound too desperate and available.

“I’ll be there in 15 mins,” he said back.

Naturally, for the next fifteen minutes while I waited, I downed the rest of my Red Bull plus a glass of wine. Brady called when he got to my apartment and he was double parked in front of my building. 

“Hi!” I said, getting in. Brady looked hot in his dress shirt with his tie undone and hanging freely around his neck. Clearly he couldn’t wait to take it off. 

We talked about our days then he asked if I was hungry. I told him I was. He drove us to a little ethnic restaurant not far from my apartment. He said that he loved it and would be surprised if I didn’t too.

The place was small, dark and intimate and we snagged a table near the door. It was a little modest given his background and how much I know he brings home yearly, but I liked the vibe.

“So what’s good?” I asked, opening the menu.

“They have a platter I usually get. It has chicken, beef, lentils, potatoes, and bread. It is plenty of food for two people,” Brady said. He was so laidback and chill on Friday, but he was back to being formal and uptight.

As the night went on he started relaxing and I could tell I was making him more comfortable. He was even kind of flirting. I told him about New York City/Rob and Brady said, “I guess you can’t really blame him for being attracted to you.”

Which was sweet. And then he said, “It’s good you had the sagacity not to allow things to go further with him.” 

I consider myself pretty intelligent for the most part, but I’ve never heard that word before in my life. He used several words I’ve never heard before and I made a mental note to start reading the dictionary while I do my squats. Then there was a joke about Napoleon that I didn’t understand. Brady explained it once then when I still didn’t get it, he said nevermind. I haven’t taken a history class in four years and Napoleon just isn’t someone who stuck with me. I even went home and Googled him to see if I could understand the joke, but to no avail.

We finished dinner and stayed at the restaurant until they closed. Afterwards we weren’t ready to go home so we walked to a little bar down the block. We got drinks and sat on their outdoor patio. I found out that he actually owns the duplex he lives in and rents to Chris which is super impressive because he’s only 26(ish?) and it’s a prestigious neighborhood. I can’t even imagine how many hundreds of thousands of dollars it costs him. I told him that I’m looking to purchase a home within the next few years (which is true, but my down payment is currently hanging in my closet so). He said he would get me in contact with his realtor who would be able to help me. 

We talked about how we enjoy going to the beach and he suggested we go this weekend together. And then he said we could invite Carly and Chris which I didn’t agree with but whatever. As long as I get to see Brady shirtless. 

After two drinks, he drove me home. We had a fun and friendly evening, it wasn’t super romantic, but it felt right. I realized that every relationship doesn’t have to be driven by sex like me and Eric’s. He leaned over and hugged me before I got out of his car and then when we pulled apart he kissed me. I don’t know if he was trying to aim for my lips and missed or if he meant to kiss me on my cheek, but it landed in the middle on the corner of my mouth.



As expected, I was hungover and miserable all day on Monday and hid out in my office for the majority of the day. I sent BJ out to get me a cheeseburger and a salad. He brought back the goods and stood in my office watching me eat. He totally called me out on being hungover and pretended to be upset that I didn’t invite him out for our shenanigans. As if I would ever. 

I decided to clock out early and on my way out, I had to walk past the interns’ cubicles. I was going to stop by and say goodbye to BJ and remind him that I wanted a green tea frappucino in the morning instead of the usual chai, but the social media intern, Amanda, was hovering over his desk. I could tell by the way she was twirling her blonde hair and her foot was cocked that BJ was sweet talking her right out of her panties. And it irritated me. And then I was annoyed at myself for being irritated. 

The next morning, BJ and Amanda showed up to work together with matching Starbucks cups. I sensed something going on here and couldn’t wait to question him about it. He came into my office and handed me the drink. 

“Morning, boss lady,” he said. 

“I wanted a frappucino,” I said, taking a sip from my hot chai. 

BJ’s curved into a grin. “Shit. I forgot.”

I sipped my latte and wiggled my eyebrows. “So what’s with you and Amanda?”

He shrugged with his hands in his pockets. “What? I’m just having fun.”

By the way he said this I could tell that “having fun” meant they are totally hooking up. And it really pissed me of because that meant I am not the only one he’s been flirting relentlessly with. So I made him run back to Starbucks and get me the frappuncino I wanted and then spend the rest of the day stapling things and doing bitch work around the office.

After work I went home and poured a huge glass of vino and sat in front of the tv. I was almost asleep when I got a picture message from Preston. It was a screenshot of an Instagram post – from that girl Brooke’s Instagram. The picture was of her and Eric from Sunday night at the club and her caption was: “Had so much fun with my favorite boy last night :)” 

In the picture, she was sitting on Eric’s lap with her arms wrapped around his neck. She was a lot prettier than I remembered but still resembled an alien. 

Immediately, I typed her name into Instagram and found her wide open profile. Buried in the numerous pictures of her and her friends out partying and her bulldog, there were several of her and Eric, looking all photogenic and lovey. They all had captions like “out with my boy” and “so glad I got to see my babe today.” The photos dated back to five weeks ago. Wait. Wait. Was Brooke Eric’s girlfriend? He told me they were friends! 

I calmly finished my glass of wine while trying to decide what to do. Eric had given me no indication that he had a girlfriend or was even dating anyone else. Well aside from the whole incident on Sunday night. We hadn’t agreed to be exclusive nor had a relationship talk at all, but I still felt a little bit betrayed. 

Finally, I decided to call Eric. I would politely and calmly probe to find out what I could about his potential girlfriend situation. 

“Hey, Reese,” he said when he picked up. 

“I thought you and Brooke were just friends. Why is she posting all these pictures on Instagram?” I blurted out. 

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even have Instagram,” he replied.

“‘Out with my boy.’ ‘So glad I got to see my babe today.'” I quoted from her pictures. “So you lied.” 

Eric sighed. “I didn’t know she was posting that stuff. We aren’t dating.”

“Oh sure. I don’t even believe you.”

“Reese, I don’t want a girlfriend right now so I’m not with either of you. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear.”

“Fine,” was all I said. It kind of hurt to hear that Eric had no intention of actually being in a relationship with me. Not that I wanted to. I don’t think.

“Sorry. I don’t want to stop hanging out with you, but I’m not in any position to get into a relationship right now. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said and told him that I had to go. After we hung up, I sat there thinking about what a long day of betrayal I’d had. First, BJ and Amanda and now this. I poured another cup of wine and nursed my wounds. 


if i had a brother, he would be hot.

Monday was Memorial Day and we all had the day off (except Preston) so we road tripped to Carly’s parent’s house in Rockford for their family barbecue. I spent most of the day flirting with Carly’s cute older brother, Kyle. He played football at Stanford and is your typical blonde haired, blue eyed All American guy. We like to tease each other about being perpetually single, but we’ve never actually hooked up or anything. Well, I guess we made out on Christmas one year but we were both really drunk. But we would never have sex. That’s like, incestuous. Carly hates it, but I don’t know why. If I had a brother he would obviously be hot, and I would let Carly hop all over that. In fact, I would encourage it. I would love a sister-in-law to drink with! 

When we got back to the city, I spent the night with Eric and then again on Tuesday. I’m starting to feel like things are really working for us. I know it’s only been a few weeks, but usually things would’ve fizzled out by now. I have a mild case of adult ADD and I get bored easily so I’m pretty proud of where things stand with Eric and me. 

Diana called me into her office on Wednesday morning. 

“Good morning,” she said as I sat down.

“Hi Diana. How are you?” I replied. 

“I’m well. I just wanted to call you in here today to tell you what an absolutely great job you’re doing, Reese.”

I tried not to grin too wide. “Thank you!”

“I knew I was making a good decision when I put you in charge of branding, but you’ve honestly exceeded my expectations. This new collaboration is already shaping up to be wonderful and everyone is excited about it and it’s all thanks to you. It’s pretty incredible.” 

I obviously knew all of this already but it is still touching hearing it from my boss. 

“Thank you so much, Diana. I’m working hard to prove that you made the right decision.”

Diana cleared her throat. “Anyway. I wanted to let you know that we have two new ad team interns starting on Monday. I know you’re busy, but I need you to make sure they are learning everything they need to know and get the most out of their internships.”

“Of course. I would love to.” 

The last thing I wanted to do was babysit some annoying college kids, but I guess it comes with the job. Plus, it might be nice to have two more peasants to order around. After work, I met Kendra and Carly for chips, salsa and blackberry margaritas. 

As soon as we got settled, Kendra said, “You guys, I need some advice.”

It’s kind of hilarious hearing perfectly put together Kendra say she needs advice. Usually it’s the other way around. 

“What’s wrong?” Carly asked. 

“Nothing is wrong, I’m just in sort of a dilemma,” she answered. 

“Oh my gosh, just spit out already!” I practically shouted.

“Okay.” Kendra looked from me to Carly and back. “John’s lease is up at the end of the month and we were thinking instead of renewing it, he could move in with me.”

Carly spoke up first. “Why?” 

“To save money. We want to get married and buy a house eventually. We thought it might be the time to do this.”

“But he’s a doctor. Why is he freeloading off you?” I couldn’t help asking. 

Kendra’s eyes cut to me. “We would be splitting the rent obviously.”

“What would your parents say?” Carly asked. 

She brought forth a great point. Kendra’s ultra conservative parents would never go for this. 

“Well they wouldn’t know. They wouldn’t approve of it since we aren’t married yet.”

“I don’t know, Kendra. Do you think you’re ready for that step?” Carly asked. 

I can’t even imagine living with a man at this point in my life. You would have to share the same bathroom and closet and he would probably expect you to cook sometimes and keep the place clean. Hell no. But then I started thinking about living with Eric. His closet is pretty bomb and having a fireplace to snuggle in front of during the brutal Chicago winter would be useful. 

“We’re ready. We’ve been together for six years, you guys. We’re ready for the next step.”

Kendra loves bragging about her boring ass six year relationship. The same penis – for six years.

“I say do it. You guys know you’re getting married. It’s smart,” Carly said.

“What do you think, Reese? Should I?”

I took a long gulp of margarita before answering. How was I going to say this without sounding like a closed minded bitch?

“I just feel like if John moves in with you, we’re never going to see you again. He’s going to be there all the time. And will we still get to have wine night and crash at your place? John probably won’t even let you keep alcohol in the apartment.”

“Nothing is going to change, Reese. It won’t affect our relationship at all,” Kendra said calmly.

I didn’t want to get in a fight over this so I said, “Well if you want to then do it. But I wouldn’t.”

We finished up and went our separate ways and I could tell Kendra wasn’t really happy with the way things ended. I know she’s going to do it anyway. 

When I got home, Eric called and we made arrangements for him to come by my apartment. In all this time, he had never actually been up to my apartment – just the lobby – so I had some preparing to do. Namely throwing everything I had scattered on the floor into the closet and throwing the bag of Cheetos Puffs (don’t judge) I had lying on the counter in the garbage. My apartment is actually really cute when it’s all cleaned up (I work in home decor, what do you expect?), but that doesn’t happen very often. Hey, I’m really busy (lazy). 

We ended up going straight to my room and hooking up then cuddling and talking for two hours. He left at around 11:30 because he was tired and I was a bit offended that he didn’t want to stay the night with me.

*Note: next week I’m going to post a Q&A on the blog. Leave your questions as a comment or email (hotmessinhighhheels@gmail.com) or tweet them to me!