Worst Wingman Ever (The Improbable Meet-Cute, #2)

by Abby Jimenez

I was always really good at compartmentalizing what I did for a living. I think that was part of my gift. I had the compassion that the duties required, but also the ability to leave it behind the moment I stepped out the door. Now when I left my assignment, I got in my car and cried. Because my assignment was to watch my grandmother die.

Time is such a precious thing. How you spend it, how you waste it. And it becomes even more valuable as the hourglass runs out, because you will never get more of it. I see it every day. The panic as the last grains of sand fall.

He also stole my neti pot, which for some reason pissed me off more than the cheating. He does not deserve clear sinuses.

“You want the guys buying the red tools,” she said, making eye contact with each of us. “Red tools are a green flag.” “Why red?” Mom asked, drying a bowl with a rag. “Those are the expensive, professional ones.” She propped her foot on the edge of Grandma’s bed and did a hamstring stretch. “You could make an exception for a guy with yellow tools if he’s cute enough. But never green. Ever.” “No green,” I said, smacking her foot off the comforter. “Got it.” Mom was shaking her head. “Where did you learn all this?” “I drink iced coffee and I know things.” Grandma chuckled.

But after a few months of thinking about it, I kept coming back to the same thing. Who doesn’t like dogs?

That’s the thing about kindness. You never know how big the ripple is. How one little selfless gesture can make all the difference for the person who receives it.

No, the whole point in me telling you this story is to remind you that we need to manifest our own destiny. I never accepted less than what I deserved ever again. Never ignored a red flag or excused bad behavior. I asked for what I wanted, and I protected those I loved, and I demanded the things I needed, and I had a beautiful life.

“Take responsibility for your own unhappiness, Holly. If you don’t love your life, change it.”

“You’re gonna have so many people waiting for you in heaven one day, beautiful girl,” she said quietly. “I’ll be the first one in line.”

“Take responsibility for your own unhappiness. If you don’t love your life, change it.” I hope you love your life. But if you don’t . . .

“Imagine having to kill a guy named Chip,” she whispered. “That would piss me off. Like, you’re gonna have a stupid name and be an asshole? Pick a struggle.”

“Where’d you get that bobblehead?” He looked back at me. “It was a gift.” Silence. “Are you a nurse?” he asked. “Yeah. I’m a hospice nurse.” He paused. “Do you drive a white Honda?” “Yes . . .” Something moved across his face. “I gave you that.” I blinked at him. “What?” “I also filled your tire with air and accidentally put a Valentine’s Day card on your windshield.” I was speechless. “That was you?” I breathed. “That was me. John. Worst wingman guy . . . You’re H?” “Holly,” I said, my heart pounding. We held each other’s gaze. The same way we did that day in the courtyard. Only today I was in such a different place I didn’t need to look away. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It was too good to be true. My guardian angel.

“Yes,” I said. “You can definitely take me out. And I think what I’m looking for is already here.”