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14. Isabel

I wanted the high back, that glow I’d felt after the winery opening when Boston had kissed me and when I felt like nothing could ever penetrate my happy bubble. I’d texted Boston last night and it hadn’t gone through, giving birth to more dragons in my stomach. I’d gone back and forth with Ashley until she was ready to block my phone number. Did he give me the wrong number on purpose? And if so, what was that all about? Why was he so weird about his phone number? Something just wasn’t adding up.

I’d had a sinking feeling in my stomach all day, which I chalked up to nerves about the date. Ever the glass-half-full kind of girl, I’d strapped on my best heels, layered on three kinds of deodorant, and escaped off to the date with only a single wolf whistle from Frank. I told myself over and over that the phone number thing was just a mistake. A simple error writing down the number. Boston had looked into my eyes outside the restaurant and I’d settled down. Everything was fine.

And then Cha
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