“So are you.”

“That’s right. And I have a plan.”

“A plan for turning thirty?”

“A plan for my life,” said Emily, her gaze taking on a dreamy quality and drifting to the window behind Jenny. “If I don’t meet a man, the man…” Then she frowned, and her eyes narrowed. “Well, at least a man who might be the man, by my birthday next month, I’m going to have a baby anyway.”

Jenny straightened in shock. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “A single mom? Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea-”

“I want children.”

“I know from experience how bad that can turn out.”

“We’re not talking about your childhood.” Emily glanced at her watch and hopped up from the bed. “In fact, we’re still talking about the wedding tonight. I can tell you, if I had a thing for a guy like Mitch, and if that guy was anywhere within a hundred miles of here, I’d damn well be doing something about it.”

“You would not.”

“I would.” Emily nodded decisively. “Come on, Jen. What’s the risk? He doesn’t notice, no harm done. You simply showed up to some friends’ wedding in a nice dress. But if he notices, it’s a whole new ball game.”

“If he doesn’t notice,” Jenny began, telling herself it was an academic argument, since she wasn’t really considering the dress, “then it’s game over.”

Compassion rose in Emily’s blue eyes. “If he doesn’t notice you in this, it was game over anyway. Wouldn’t you rather know?”

Jenny started to shake her head, but then she stopped. Did she truly want to spend the next year, or two, or three, longing for a man who wasn’t remotely interested in her? Would she rather keep the fantasy alive, or would she rather face the truth, no matter how hurtful?

“If he’s not into you, Jen, then you can move on. You have to move on.”

Jenny catalogued her options, considering every angle as dispassionately as humanly possible. But, despite her efforts to be strictly analytical, her emotions crowded in. Her heart rate increased, heat prickling her skin, as she silently admitted Emily’s advice had merit.