Page 82 of Forever Endeavor

“I’ll have the spinach gnocchi, please.”

“Excellent choice.” He collected the menus and topped up their champagne before leaving again. As usual, downtown’s hottest upscale restaurant was filling up with the power lunch crowd. Despite the movers and shakers clamoring to mingle with martinis and broker business deals, Carmen never had trouble wrangling her favorite corner table. It was a salute to the queen among pawns.

She raised her fluted glass. “To you, my dear, for reconciling with your writing mojo.”

Billie laughed over the tinkling of their glasses. “I’m only relieved it didn’t decide to leave me for good and file for alimony.”

“Now, I want you to level with me.” Carmen smiled as she placed her French-tipped fingers over Billie’s hand. “How are you really doing?”

She blinked. “I’m fine. To be honest, being able to write again was surprisingly cathartic. The rest of it, I’m afraid, will have to come with time.”

Carmen’s head tilted as she stared into Billie’s eyes. “It’s him, isn’t it? Sparkle Dick.”

“You mean Sonny?”

“Is that his name? The one with the Sam Elliott ladytickler?”

A hot rush flooded Billie’s cheeks as she giggled. “Of course, the name you forget, the mustache you remember.”

“And by that smile on your face, I see you do too.” Carmen tippled, leaving a fresh lipstick print on the rim of her glass. “Have you heard from him lately?”

“No,” Billie admitted sadly. “Maybe he’s moved on, and if so, good for him. It’s what we wanted for each other. To be happy.”

“But you’re not happy, are you?”

Billie summoned a partial smile before it disappeared again. “I miss him.”

“I’ll bet he’s missing you too, but either he hasn’t figured out how much or doesn’t know how to tell you. He’ll get there. Men are such delicate creatures. The more macho they are on the outside, the more fragile the little boy on the inside.”

“What do you think I should do? Should I message him? It seems risky to reach out first if he isn’t ready to talk to me. Eggs aren’t swimmers, right?”

“Eggs aren’t swimmers? What on earth does that mean?”

“Never mind, just something I heard from someone who watches too much Dr. Phil,” Billie said. “I don’t want to accept that our relationship is over, but maybe it’s one of those things I cannot change. Not all connections are meant to last, and if that’s the case, I need to value it for what it was and then let it go.”

Carmen’s eyes widened. “Wow, Billie. Maybe that sabbatical really did change you.”

“I guess it did,” she said, feeling rather proud. The waiter reappeared with their lunches, placing each of their meals before them with first-class flourish. Billie unfurled her cloth napkin and draped it across her lap, then picked up her fork to spear the tiny pillows of gnocchi.

“Billie?”

She bristled. Recognizing the grating voice that dared speak her name, Billie scowled and forced herself to scroll up the length of the fine silk jacquard necktie standing next to the table. Her eyes met the punchably doughy face of her ex-husband.

“Gawd, I thought it was you, but your hair looks different,” he said with an oily grin. “What are you doing here?”

“Eating lunch,” she answered.Duh.

He faked a jovial laugh that made her skin crawl. “I can see that. But what are you doinghere? I come in all the time and never once have I seen you.”

“Billie is my star client, and we are celebrating yet another of her remarkable literary achievements,” Carmen interjected, extending her hand. “Carmen Draper, Allure Publishing. And you are?”

“Just leaving,” Billie replied, hoping he’d get the hint.

“I’m Billie’s ex-husband,” he said, shaking Carmen’s hand.

“Ahh, so you’re the infamous Mr. Mustard. The one with the WWS.”

His caterpillar-like eyebrows squirmed. “Sorry, WWS?”

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