Page 45 of Mr. Wrong
out of your mind?
Derek:Jesus, Elle,
a motorcycle?
Seriously?
Derek:I’m not mad.
I’m not. This isn’t
anything we can’t work
through. I forgive you, okay?
I forgive you.
Derek:Just come to New York,
Elle. Just come here and we can
pretend that the last three months
never happened.
Derek:Please just answer me.
I’m going crazy here.
The last batch came through this morning, and it dawns on me that I don’t even know her mother’sname, let alone her phone number. That if I called her on the phone, she’d have no idea who I was. I don’t know what it is about her friend Dani that would make her so objectionable, other than the fact thatshe lives in a bad neighborhood and foists her adorably awkward friends onto strangers in bars. That everything I know about Ellenore Pierce could be summed up in a few sentences.
I know she’s a Stephen King fan.
I know that she talks to her cat like he’s a person and that even though I should find it off-putting and weird, I don’t.
I know that that Derek asshole convinced her he was the only guy dumb enough to give her the time of day and then he dumped her because he thought it was time for an upgrade. Someone prettier. More exciting. Someone who wears lace panties and high heels and flips her hair and tells him how smart and handsome he is.
I’ve only known Ellenore for roughly forty-eight hours but I already know what an idiot he is for thinking he’d find someone better than her.
And Derek the Ex-Boyfriend apparently knows it too because he wants her back.
She hasn’t answered him.
Hasn’t told him yes but she hasn’t told him no either, which means she’s either on the fence or decided to make him sweat a little before giving in.
Because Ellenore is smart and focused. Knows exactly what she wants.Whoshe wants—and despite the fact that she keeps letting me get her naked, I’m pretty sure it isn’t a college dropout who lives in his famous brother’s pool house and spends his days cutting the crusts off of PB&Js and debating the perfect chocolate syrup to milk ratio for chocolate milk with his six-year-old niece.
She’ll want someone just as smart and focused as she is. Someone with goals. A plan. Someone stable and dependable.
Someone with alife.
Areallife.
In other words, someone who isn’t me.
I’m wrong for her in just about every way.
I imagine a woman like Ellenore has a check list of what makes a guy Mr. Right and I can guaran-fucking-tee that Derek the Ex-Boyfriend tics every damn box.
