Page 53 of D.I.E.T. (Did I Eat That?)

Dion:Brandon was unhappy about that meeting last night.

Me:You’re hedging…

Dion:Brandon yelled at Sinjin, ‘How dare you use that girl to corner me at a friend’s wedding?’

Me:Use me?

Dion:I’m sure Brandon was wrong, Geet. I shouldn’t have said anything.

Instead of answering the text, I powered down my phone, grabbed my bag from the conveyor, and slunk away while Sinjin busied himself with Vanessa. Seriously, what did I expect? He’d even admitted it to me the first night in the hotel. He’d said he saw the opportunity being with me provided. I was just too stupidly smitten to get it.

I needed time to think, waving down a taxi for myself instead of waiting for Sinjin, because who knew how long I’d be here if I did. Vanessa. The merger. Vanessa. The merger. The more I thought about them, the angrier I became to the point I wasn’t thinking straight. I needed to think straight.

The old driver helped me with my bag and with tears rolling down my cheeks, I had him take me home. His wrinkled, kind eyes found mine in the rearview mirror more than once and when he smiled, it showed the gap between his teeth, which sort of made me want to hug him. I bet he gave great hugs.

As I thought on things, I realized that I couldn’t even be mad at Sinjin for it. When we’d left for the trip, I’d told him I loved him. I’d told him I missed him. He never once returned the sentiment. I’d taken from our time together what I wanted to take from it—that he loved me and missed me, too.

Stupid, stupid Geet.

I’d almost made it home when I turned my phone back on to text Sinjin and the first call from him came in. I ignored it. I ignored the second and third ones, too.

It hurt too much to talk to him.

Me:Well, you got your meeting with Brandon for the bargain price of bootcamp, first-class plane tickets, and an upgraded hotel suite. Good for you. Maybe you and Vanessa can celebrate.

After hittingsend, I powered down my phone again.

He showed up at my apartment complex a little bit later, pounding on the door. “Geet, we need to talk.”

But we didn’t need to talk. What else was there to say?

I might have been brokenhearted, but if I was mad at anyone, it was myself. The numbnut-who-shall-not-be-named had taught me my lesson: some people were meant to be loved, and some people were me.

Since Dion had scheduled in a recovery day as part of our week off before heading back to work, about noon the day after we arrived home, I drove to my sister’s place to pick up Billie Jean, but I didn’t have it in me to talk. Being sad and jetlagged, I felt bone-deep tired.

The pull of a Happy Burger olive burger almost proved too much, but at the last minute, I pulled into a sub shop for a veggie sub with light mayo and baked chips to bring home. It felt like a good compromise, considering all the work I’d put in with bootcamp.

Billie Jean and I made it home, where I changed into my pajamas and we vegged out watching TV until I passed out on the sofa. A new level of low for me. I didn’t even have it in me to read.

I brought my girl to the shop with me the next morning. After a shower and large coffee, I felt more human, which worked seeing as I had to deal with people.

After parking and talking softly to Billie Jean in order for her to not freak out, I let myself in the shop, leaving the door unlocked for Dion, who would be arriving soon. From there, Billie Jean and I walked into the employees only room for me to hang up my coat and purse and clock in.

The light was on in my massage room. I heard Dion come in and one of his regular clients soon after. That didn’t explain why my light was on. I opened the door slowly to see a figure lying on my table wrapped in a sheet. He had his chin propped on his folded arms, staring at me—no,glaringat me.

“You can’t be here,” I said, setting the carrier on the floor and flipping open the gate for her to get a feel for the new surroundings.

“What the hell was that text about?”

My traitorous cat slunk over to him and he reached his hand down to scratch her behind the ear. Billie Jean leaned in to his scratching and purred.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Go home, Sinjin.”

“Forget that, Geet.” He sat up, pulling his magic fingers from Billie and she meowed angrily at him.Get used to disappointment, girl. “I turned my back for a couple of minutes to take a call and you abandoned me at the airport. Who does that?”

“We didn’t need to pretend anymore. You got your meeting with Brandon, and I’d be willing to bet with all the time you spent in meetings and on the phone with Vanessa, she’s itching to take you back. No woman calls her ex that often if she’s not interested in rekindling the romance.”

“She does when a billion-dollar merger is on the line.” Sinjin stood, wrapping the sheet more securely around his waist. “Why would you think I’d want Vanessa back?”

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