Free Where My Heart Breaks by Ivy Sinclair

million scathing things that I wanted to say in my defense, but I knew that none of them would have gone over well. It grated that even though I had done nothing since arriving at the Willoughby to warrant Patrice’s warning, I was still being judged by my past.
    “That’s what I am doing,” I said sullenly.  
    “If you expect to be off at dinnertime, I’d get moving,” Patrice said.  
    I didn’t need the reminder. For the next forty-five minutes, I made sure that I cleared the reservation queue and sent out confirmations. I finally figured out the sample catering equation and felt reasonably confident that I’d know what I was talking about if Patrice required me to do the ordering.
    As the time rolled up on six, I realized that I forgot to look at the piece of paper that Reed slipped into my hand just before my aunt walked into the room. I pulled it out of my pocket and opened it up. There was a time and an address written on it, but nothing else.
    8pm. Java Joe’s at 510 Maple St. (hang a left at the library off Main)
    Well, that answered that question. Reed and I were on for the evening. I felt the butterflies erupt in my stomach. I couldn’t remember being this excited about a non-date with a guy. Maybe that was because other than a few short-lived relationships from early on in college, Trevor was the only real boyfriend I had ever had, and he turned out to be a doozy.
    Trevor asked me out mid-way through sophomore year. He was in my political science class, and I had noticed him just as surely as every other red-blooded woman in the class had noticed him. He looked like a living Ken doll. I was astonished when I found him waiting for me in the hallway after the mid-term, and he asked for my phone number. He had been so sweet and charming that I thought I hit some kind of dating lottery jackpot. It turns out the joke was on me.
    Patrice showed up at six o’clock on the dot and did a quick review of my progress. She seemed reasonably satisfied with what I accomplished, and I escaped before she could find any flaws in her logic to give me the night off.
    Up in my room, I began to panic. I didn’t know what to wear. I didn’t know what I was going to talk about. I kept coming back to the fact that I was a pathetic mess. I needed help. Lucky for me, help was never more than a phone call away.
    “I’m meeting Reed for a non-date in less than two hours. Tell me what to do,” I said without a word of greeting as soon as Millie answered the phone.
    “If this really is a non-date, it doesn’t matter,” Millie said. “If you didn’t wash your hair or shave your legs today, even better.”
    “Millie! I need help,” I whined. “I still need to look presentable.”
    “Calm down,” she said. “What are you doing for your non-date?”
    “Meeting for coffee and talking about the book that dude wrote here,” I said.
    “Well, that sounds suitably boring,” Millie said. She sounded pleased, which made me roll my eyes.
    “I told you that I’m being good,” I replied. “I can’t help it that my friend is gorgeous. I don’t want him to look better than me.” It was a white lie. I didn’t want to look like I didn’t belong with him. I still couldn’t believe that he was willing to spend time with me at all, even as a friend. If anything, that told me how stupid everyone in town must be that he had to sink to the level of hanging out with the pathetic new girl.
    Millie always insisted on being the best looking woman in the room, which wasn’t a stretch in her case. “You’re a fox and you know it, Kate. Wear that mauve sleeveless top that accentuates your rack and the slim khaki capri pants. Slingback heels. Hair half up, half down.”
    “You said that in the rack department, I was hopeless,” I said with a smile. I knew Millie would come through for me.
    “Oh yeah, don’t forget the push up bra,” Millie said without missing a beat.
    “Thanks,” I chuckled. “I’ll talk to you