Page 120 of My Silver Lining

Let’s hear it.

Wildcat

The reason he’s trying to keep you is because he sees your potential. And so do I. That means you have the power to make demands of him. He doesn’t want to lose you, so you can call the shots. Get yourself that corner office and ask for a promotion if you aren’t ready to leave yet.

That’s not a bad idea. I’ll take the weekend and think about it. Get back to your healthy dinner. Thanks for your help.

I wanted to pick up the phone and call her, but we were supposed to be putting distance there. So we both just randomly texted the other, knowing that it would lead nowhere.

Wildcat

Always.

And then I missed her even more.

thirty-two

. . .

Lulu

Parisin the springtime was everything I thought it would be.

The people were all dressed to the nines, cigarettes in hand, as they enjoyed their evening glass of wine.

I came to the same café every night after work, and I sat alone, enjoying a glass of wine and wishing I was embracing my new life more.

I glanced at the couple beside me. They were laughing as they sat on the same side of the table, which seemed weird to those of us not from here, but they don’t call it the most romantic city in the world for nothing.

The man was admiring her bracelet as he fiddled with her wrist.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I realized it was an MSL design she was wearing.

It was always exciting to see my designs out in the world.

But watching them reminded me how lonely I felt most days. It wasn’t because I didn’t have opportunities to be with other people. I worked in an office with several employees who worked in the French division of Laredo. My mother had made sure Ihad a gorgeous space to work, and there were several people my age working here, so it would be fairly easy to make friends.

I’ve been asked out by three men since I arrived in Paris.

First, there was Pierre, a buyer for Laredo. He was a few years older than me and very handsome by most standards, but unfortunately, most standards didn’t work for me.

I found his chiseled jaw, ocean-blue eyes, and French accent to be subpar compared to my ex-fake boyfriend.

Apparently, I preferred small-town alpha cowboys now.

Then we had Jacque. He was the guy in my building who lived one floor down from me, and he liked to check his mail on the way back from his morning workout. I’ve never seen him in anything other than a pair of gray low-slung joggers with his chiseled chest glistening. He had long, wavy hair that was effortlessly sexy and had the confidence of a man who left women heartbroken in his wake.

Again. He did nothing for me. And it wasn’t for lack of effort. I’ve been here for over a month, and he’s asked me out no less than a dozen times.

I found creative ways to turn him down each time, and I felt absolutely nothing when I did.

My last offer had come from a man named Charles, who owned the deli on the corner. He was seventy-two years old and a lifelong bachelor who smelled like salami and cheese, but he claimed he’d be willing to change his ways for me. I told him I was focused on my career and sadly still hung up on a man back home.

Rosewood River.

He said he understood before handing me the Croque Monsieur that I ordered.

My phone rang, and I was thrilled to see Henley’s name light up the screen.

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