Page 38 of Playing Pretend

“—was one more swipe against your imaginary—”

“Rome.” I slap my hand down on the table. “Enough. You’re well aware I’m a visual thinker too. Please don’t scar me for life.”

He slumps back in his seat. “You’re no fun.”

I know. That’s the problem. And I’m sure Julian felt the same way. My juvenile sexual palate doesn’t even brush the outer edges of Rome’s extravagant appetite.

“You should order another drink while I go to the room and get changed.” He reclaims his scotch, throwing back the remaining liquor in one mouthful. “It’s time to make use of the pool. I won’t be long.” He pushes to his feet.

“Don’t rush on my account. It’s clear how much you enjoy being alone in the suite.”

He snickers as he walks away. “I’d much prefer the company if you’re interested.”

He’s playing the boyfriend role. Effortlessly. Flawlessly.

None of this is real.

As he disappears inside I make eye contact with the waitress, smile, and hold up my empty glass. She nods and turns for the bar as Julian stalks past her, making his way toward me.

Shit.

He doesn’t stop until he’s at my table, his expression stony as he yanks back Rome’s chair and claims it as his own. “I thought he’d never leave.”

“Julian…” I sit, stunned. “I told you, I think it’s best if—”

“I heard what you said. But there are things I need to know. Things Ideserveto know.” He scoots his seat closer to the table, the metal chair legs scraping across the tile. “How long have you been dating Cavanaugh?”

I glance around the outdoor bar, scanning for eavesdroppers. “I’m not discussing this with you.”

“Why not? You’re more than happy to rub it in my face.”

“I’m not rubbing anything anywhere.” I glower. “I’m doing what you should be doing, which is moving on.”

“I’ve been calling you.” He claps his cell onto the table. “Even while you’ve been sitting here I sent texts. But you’ve blocked my number, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

His eyes narrow to slits. “Why would you do that when all I want is to talk?”

“Julian, you need to stand up and leave before this becomes more of a situation.”

“What Ineedis for you to stop being such a haughty bitch.”

I balk. Gape.

“Fuck.” He shoves a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make this a big deal. But don’t you think it’s a low blow to break up with me without a proper explanation, to then bring a guy on our business trip, while also blocking my ability to discuss this civilly?”

“No.”

“No?” He scowls. “That’s it?”

“I don’t owe you another explanation. We’ve been over for months.”

His jaw clenches as the waitress returns, placing another Long Island iced tea in front of me.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

She smiles, then turns her attention to Julian. “Can I get you a drink, sir?”

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