Purposefully Accidental

Chapter Thirty

I proposed that I still go anyway without him and instead bring Lucy and Cole with me, but Gina manages to get into his head and convinced him to delay the staycation altogether until he's finished with work. The traitors.

I know it's bullshit. Seeing how the strikes have progressed, it doesn't seem likely that Freddie's going back to spend the rest of summer in my hometown.

So, to make up for that, he's sent me a very expensive rose bouquet this morning—like, a considerably massive arrangement that's now sitting in the corner of the living room. It looks like there's over 200 freshly cut red roses arranged beautifully in a flower box, decorated with black and silver accents, complete with an elegant, hand-lettered "Happy Anniversary" card inscribed with matching silver ink on black. Even though I'm not much of a rose kind of gal, I can admit that it's really pretty.

It makes me sick to think about how expensive that shit is, though, so I just try not to think about it. Mom, on the other hand, loves the flowers she might as well believe Freddie sent them for her.

Meanwhile, Gina's still trying to convince me to come to the reunion. "C'mooon. It's not gonna be that bad."

"I will not be having a good time and you need to understand that."

"But you'll have me. We're gonna have fun together." Gina pouts at me. "Pleaseeeee? We don't have to make it through all the way to the end of the night. We can leave early."

At her earnest face, I sigh. "Alright. But you are not allowed to leave me behind to flirt with Bey and her wife."

"Nooooo. I absolutely am not going to do that," Gina promises unconvincingly, grinning at me in excitement.

"Uh-huh."

"Pinky promise!" She holds up her pinky, and I hook mine with hers.

"You know, we could've been spending more energy into securing the Eras Tour tickets for this weekend's shows, but nooo," I grumble. "This stupid reunion."

"You literally have a billionaire husband. Who works at one of the biggest media companies in America—scratch that, who basically owns it. He has the money and the connections. If you really wanted those tickets, you literally could've gotten them already."

"Millionaire. And, yeah, but I'm already leeching off him. I'm not gonna ask for concert tickets when I'm already so indebted to him. Literally."

She shakes her head in disappointment. "He brought you to the Met Gala, and yet you're too prideful to ask him for a concert ticket."

"That was different. The Met Gala was like a job for me. I was on the clock, working all night, literally in a costume for that, too. A music concert seems so trivial."

"It's literally Taylor Swift," my best friend deadpans. "There's absolutely nothing trivial about the Taylor Swift."

"I knowww," I whine into my pillows. "I can't believe she's gonna be performing here this week. Less than an hour away from me. And I'm not even going because scalpers are reselling the tickets for tens of thousands of fucking dollars."

"There, there." Gina pats my head comfortingly. "Alright. Now. What are you gonna wear? For the reunion. Not The Eras Tour, since you're not going to ask your billionaire husband to secure a couple VVIP seats for us."

I sigh. "Can't I just go with a shirt and a pair of jeans? This isn't the Met."

She rolls her eyes at me. "A tiny part of me will always be pissed that you got to attend the Met and didn't even livestream what happens during the actual dinner for me and I'm never gonna let you forget that."