Page 28 of Where There's A Will
How could she consider going back to him? After all he’d done. And he’d looked really shifty at the dating event on Monday night. He’d probably come away with a phoneful of contacts to hook up with the next time he got bored of Montana. She was a smart woman; why was she kidding herself Hugo was the one?
A pang of guilt hit me for hoping he’d hurt her again. I didn’t even know me anyone.
“You’re going to be on your own this week without Montana,” I said to Bree, stating the absolute obvious.
She laughed. “I am.”
“Maybe we should get dinner one night?”
Her eyes sparkled at me and I tried to smile. “That sounds great—how about Sunday?”
“Perfect!” I reached into my pocket, pretending to have received a message. “Sorry, guys, I’m going to have to head off. Mitch has asked me to come into work because they’re short-staffed and I can’t possibly let them down. Have a great trip, Montana.”
Before she could say goodbye, I dashed out of the bar into the street.
I stood on the sidewalk, as people wound their way around me, laughing, joking, having fun on their Friday nights out. Couples, arm-in-arm, walked past, kissing. I envied them. I knew what I had to do. I had to get over her and let her go.
Although I’d lied about having to work, on a whim, I decided to drop in at the restaurant for a drink.
“You’re not rostered on tonight,” said Mitch as I walked up to the bar.
“I know. Thought I’d pop in and say hello.” I shrugged. “And if you need a spare pair of hands…” I glanced around. It wasn’t too busy and the staff who were working would easily be able to handle the customers.
“Nice try. I’ll remember that when I’m rushed off my feet on Super Bowl Sunday.” He turned around and poured me a shot of whisky. “On the house, Will. I know you’re one of the good guys.”
“Thanks.” I smiled. It was nice to know someone thought I was.
“Talking of which, remember Breakup Sting Guy?”
Hugo.
I screwed up my face as if trying to recall who Mitch was talking about. “Yeah, vaguely, what about him?”
“He was in here earlier with some chick. Lookedveryfriendly, if you know what I mean. Guessing our hostess didn’t last long.”
His words punched me in the gut. Hugo was meant to be taking Montana away tomorrow. On her dream vacation. And the night before he’s out with another girl? The gall of the guy. Conveniently, I’d ignored the fact Montana and I had slept together on Tuesday night when she had supposedly gotten back with Hugo the night before. That made her as bad as him. Almost, but not quite.
“He’s gotta be a bit of a player then?” I forced a laugh, pretending I agreed with the statement.
Mitch snorted. “You could say that. I feel sorry for the original girl he was here with. I wonder if she found out exactly what he is like.”
My heart sank. It looked as if Hugo hadn’t changed like Montana had thought.
I hung around the restaurant for a little longer, bantering with my colleagues and drinking a few more shots of whisky.
When I walked back to my apartment block, I thought I saw Montana head into her place. I wanted to go and knock on her door and tell her about Hugo. I stood there for a few minutes, clenched fist in mid-air, prepared to rap on the wood, ready to tell her everything.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t do it.
Defeated, I went back to my apartment where I switched on a comedy channel, watching reruns ofFriendswithout really seeing them. As the hours passed, I downed shot after shot of whisky before finally passing out on the sofa. I slept fitfully, my slumber disturbed by dreams of Montana crying and alone. I wanted to help her, but I couldn’t. She kept pushing me away and I couldn’t save her. She had to go through this on her own.
And I knew it was a metaphor for my life right now.
When I woke too early on Saturday morning, it was an effort to prise my eyes open. I shouldn’t have had the whisky. And the dreams had left me feeling edgy and spaced out. Or was that the alcohol?
The one thing that would usually cure how I was feeling was a Full English. But I had yet to find a decent one in New York. Maybe a good bagel with bacon would be a suitable alternative. What was it they said? Starve-a-cold-to-feed-a-broken-heart carbs. Whatever.
I took a quick, invigorating shower and headed out to find food. Anything else could wait.
