Page 54 of Champagne Nights

“Listen, sweetheart. He’s no good for you. You don’t need a man like that, especially with so much baggage in his life. You’re too good for him. You’re a kind, sweet girl who deserves a man who will love you forever. Someone you can trust.”

“You sound like Penelope.”

He laughed. “It’s the truth. Any reasonable person can see that.”

“So you’re saying I’m not reasonable?”

He kissed my forehead and took my bag from me. “No. I’m saying you’re a woman with a broken heart right now, and when your heart heals, you’ll be more reasonable.”

I let out a sigh. “You know I hate you, right?”

“Of course you do. Now, let’s go home. I have a date tonight.”

“A date? With whom, may I ask?”

“His name is Rigby.”

“He sounds like a dog,” I smirked.

“Oh, my dear Aubrey. He’s far from a dog. He’s tall, tanned, dreamy chocolate eyes and the whitest teeth I’ve ever seen.”

“And when did you meet this Mr. Rigby?”

“Last night when I was at Starbucks getting an iced coffee. He was standing in front of me, and when he went to get his wallet, he realized he left it at home. So, being the kind gentleman I am, I paid for his drink.”

“Smooth.” I grinned.

“He only lived a block away, so I followed him home. He paid me back, and we exchanged phone numbers.”

“And why am I just hearing about this now? Why didn’t you tell me this morning?”

“Because I was waiting to see if he’d make the first move, and he did. He texted me this afternoon asking if I wanted to go to dinner.”

“That’s great, Ian. I want to hear all about it tomorrow morning.”

After climbing out of his car, I walked into my building and to my apartment. I was one of the lucky ones with no smoke damage. Walking into the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator and took out the container of last night’s leftovers of chicken and pasta from the Italian restaurant down the street. Just as I popped it into the microwave, my Aunt Charlotte knocked on the door.

“Honey, it’s me. I heard you come home.”

Walking over to the door, I opened it and let her in.

“Hi, Aunt Charlotte.”

“Hello, honey. Is this a bad time?”

“No. Come on in.”

I felt terrible because I never told her that Ethan was the one I stayed with. In fact, I didn’t tell her anything at all about him. As far as she knew, we had dinner that one night, and everything went well. I didn’t want her to tell me how she was right, and I should have listened to her.

“The fire started in Mr. Johnson’s apartment. Apparently, he was making something on the stove and forgot about it. Stupid man. He could have easily burned this place down.”

“But he didn’t, and everyone is okay. So, we need to thank God for that. Would you like some chicken and pasta?” I asked as I took the container out of the microwave.

“No, thank you. I’m having dinner with Mr. Morris tonight.”

“Mr. Morris down in 1C?”

“Yes. That Mr. Morris.”

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