Page 219 of Love in Riverbend
He nods as his Adam’s apple bobs. “No strings.”
“If you give me your phone, I’ll add my number and address.” I wink. “Probably something a boyfriend would know.”
“Good idea. Give me yours, and I’ll do the same.”
We exchange phones. As I enter my name into his contacts, I see it’s already there, listed as Marilyn J. Do not answer. My blood boils. “It seems you have my number.”
He looks up at me with large eyes. “Oh, I forgot. I’ve had it for a long time. I don’t have your address.”
My hands start to shake as I enter my address in the contact information. Emotions I’d tempered begin to build. He’s had my number and never used it. Not only that, but he had a reminder not to answer. I add my address but leave his note intact.
As we again exchange phones, Ricky says, “I didn’t know if you had a new number. That one has been in there for a while.”
“Like seven years?”
His countenance changes. “We’ve established I’m an ass, or I was. Can we move beyond that?”
Can we?
“Sure,” I say curtly. “The reminder is good. You’re an ass. I’m an angel for helping you out, and soon, we’ll be off again, like we’ve been for seven years.”
“Marilyn, stop. Tonight was nice. Let’s play on that.”
Pressing my lips together, I watch as the waiter lays the black folder on the table. “What time should I expect you?”
“Cocktails are at six thirty.” He tilts his head as he opens the folder. “I can pick you up at six.”
Clenching my teeth, I watch as he places his credit card in the folder. Once it’s closed, I push my chair back and stand. “Thank you for dinner. I need to go.”
“I can walk you out to your car.” He stands and looks down at the folder, obviously torn about what to do.
“No worries, Richard. I can walk myself to my car.” Just like I’ve been doing for the last seven years.
I don’t say the last part. Instead, I lift my coat and purse from the back of the chair and turn away before he can see the tears teetering on my eyelids.
By the time I reach my car, the salty traitors have glided down my cheeks, followed by more. My temples ache from my swift shift in emotions. I don’t even notice the cold until I press the button, start the car, and the heat radiates from the vents.
Ricky had my number.
It would be better if he didn’t—but he does.
He’s just never called it.
“This was a bad idea,” I say aloud. “Get your shit together, Marilyn. One more evening. Play nice and never speak to him again.”
Chapter 9
Ricky
Fuck.
It isn’t until I’m waiting for the waiter to bring back my credit card that I look at what Marilyn entered. As soon as the screen is visible, I feel the fucking floor drop out from under me.
Shit.
Clenching my teeth, I look toward the front of the restaurant, hoping I can catch her, but I know she’s gone. Not only didn’t I remember that Marilyn’s number was in my phone, but I sure as hell forgot that I had do not answer as part of her name. As soon as I reach my vehicle, I hit the name of my best friend in my contacts. Getting inside the car, I slam the door shut. Justin answers on the first ring.
“Are you injured? Why are you calling?”
