Page 66 of Breaking Emily's Rules
“No! Listen, mister, I don’t go around offering those terms to just anyone.”
“That’s encouraging. So what did you do?” His eyes narrowed. “Is this about your ex?”
“Of course you know about that. People in this town talk too much.”
“They do.” He nodded.
“Fine. Everyone in town already knows, so you might as well, too. He cheated on me. With my friend. The cleaning lady.”
It was the first time I’d said the words out loud to a man. When a man chooses any other woman over his fiancée, what does that say about the fiancée? That I wasn’t anything special. Not worth keeping.
“The cleaning lady.”
“She’s Russian. Gorgeous model type, about six feet. Huge gazongas. I mean, if you like that kind of thing.”
“You must have trusted him a lot. Unless he’s in the very small male population that doesn’t appreciate huge gazongas.”
“I got her the job! She wanted to stay in the country, and I was her only friend. I should have seen it coming. I’m an idiot.”
“You’re not the idiot. The guy sounds like an ass. So does she.”
“I’m too nice. That’s the problem.”
“Is that what he said?” Stone pushed the second shot away from me.
I pulled it back. Slammed it. “He didn’t have to. Do you know I think I actually said ‘sorry’ when I interrupted them? On the kitchen floor, of all places.”
These shots had turned out to be some kind of truth serum.
“The kitchen floor?”
I rolled my eyes. “Why? Doesn’t that sound erotic enough?”
He lifted a shoulder. “The kitchen table, maybe. It would have to be sturdy though.”
Dang, apparently the man had given it some thought. “Molly would have burned the house down. Anyway, that’s why I’ve been changing. No more Miss Doormat.”
“I like you the way you are. And here’s the thing. I don’t see you as all that perfect.”
I sat up straighter. “Are you here to cheer me up or insult me?”
He cleared his throat. “Let’s start with your sense of balance. Every time we’re up in the plane, I’m grateful the cockpit is klutz-proof.”
“Ha! You’re funny.”
Jimmy brought me another shot. Stone waved him off.
“You’re not drinking?” I said.
“Nah. Never know if somebody might need a ride.” He slid me a look. A look that said he was talking about me.
“I already asked you for a ride. You said no. Remember?”
He grunted. “Yeah.”
I heard some whooping in the back corner of the bar. Sounded almost like—but it couldn’t be. This night might finally be taking a turn. “Hey, Jimmy, don’t tell me Bertha’s back.”
“She is indeed.” Jimmy smiled and brought me over a draft.
