Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“How many is that? Twenty-eight?” I ask, trying to remember how many times Gianna has started a sentence with that phrase since Audrey and I started counting a year ago. “No. Audrey said you used ‘There’s this guy …’ on Sunday when you went out for drinks without me.”
“Don’t start. You were invited and chose to stay home.”
“So that’s twenty-nine.” I ignore her comment about me bowing out of drinks because I had a headache. I did have a headache, and his name was Gray Adler. It’s just that particular headache is of the seven-days-a-week variety. “Anyway, what about him?”
I take a right onto Pinecrest, saying goodbye to the gorgeous sunset. I can’t help but acknowledge how metaphoric the moment really is. I’m leaving the light behind and descending into darkness.
A thought nags me in the forefront of my mind, telling me to turn the car around and go home. To save myself. Nothing good will come out of this evening with Gray because his whole point is to make me miserable. As much as I hate to admit it, his plan is already working, and I’m not even there yet.
Although he doesn’t know it, he got an assist in the form of my ex-boyfriend Trace this afternoon.
“An email came in a few weeks ago from this guy who said he’d been fucking his employee’s wife,” Gianna says.
“What? His employee’s wife?” The things Gianna gets into … “Like, the guy works for him and he’s banging his girl?”
“Yeah. Just like that. According to him—and who knows if he’s telling the truth, but that’s neither here nor there—he didn’t know it. He met her while he was getting his tires rotated.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
She giggles. “No. They were at an actual mechanic shop.”
I slow down for a red light and try to piece together where this story is headed. It’s much more entertaining than thinking about Trace’s crap. “So how did he find out she was … who she was?”
“His employee got an award, and they had a company dinner to celebrate him. He walked in with her on his arm.”
“Bet that was awkward.” I proceed forward, making a right at a fancy bar called The Swill, and quickly enter a residential area. Apartment buildings are interspersed with small homes that have tidy front lawns and flowers hanging off the porch. My window is rolled up, but if it weren’t, I bet I could smell cookies baking somewhere. If this is where Renn houses his employees, I should negotiate housing in my nonexistent employment contract. Damn. “Did he tell the guy he was banging his wife or what?”
She smacks her lips together. “I hate this color on me. I got three new lipsticks, and I’m trying each of them. Why haven’t you ever told me coral isn’t my color?”
“Gianna, can you focus?” I sigh, knowing that if she goes off track too far, I’ll never get her back—and I kind of want to know the end of this story. “I’m almost to Gray’s.”
“Shit. I just dropped my earrings. Can you hold on a sec?”
I roll my eyes. “Sure.”
I reduce my speed, coming to a crawl, as I survey the scene in front of me. Gray’s apartment is on my left, and even if I wasn’t sure which was his, I’d recognize that ridiculous truck.
My body tightens, pulling so hard that I wince as I park along the curb. I’ve been nauseous since I got the mail this afternoon. This isn’t helping.
Everything inside me screams not to go inside with a volume so loud that it’s deafening. I need to go home and deal with the letter I received this afternoon while I’m still clear-minded, not walk into Gray’s for another pointless battle. That’s especially true since, as much as I don’t want to admit it, my feelings are still hurt from yesterday.
“That would be hard to do, considering I don’t think you have one.”
I fight the lump in my throat and turn my attention back to Gianna.
“Sorry about that,” she says. “To answer your question, no, he didn’t say a word to the guy about banging his wife, and that’s why he was writing into the column. He wanted to know if he should say something or let her handle it since it was her marriage and he was a semi-innocent bystander. Sort of.”
The lilt to her voice gives her away. I sigh, knowing there’s more to the story than what she’s shared. “What are you not telling me?”
“I may have asked him to meet me for dinner tomorrow night.”
“What? Why would you do that?” I stop myself. Well, she did meet a stranger in an empty parking lot for a urinal, so is this really that surprising? I sigh yet again. “You don’t even know this guy.”
“I like the way he emails, okay? But the dinner isn’t confirmed, so don’t panic yet.” She giggles. “Okay, that’s my news. Update me on your life, please.”