Page 62 of Grease Monkey
My fingers dug into the sides of the case. “What is that supposed to mean? They wouldn’t have chosen me if they didn’t think I could handle it.”
“Of course, sweetheart. You’re being too sensitive. All I meant was I thought we’d decided you’d cut your hours closer to the wedding. You know, get prepared for when we have children.”
You decided, you mean.
My back instantly tensed. I might have been apprehensive, annoyed even, that this new portfolio blindsided me, but once the initial shock had disappeared, a sense of excitement—and dread—flurried. I would have been a fool to try to get out of it. Not to mention, I am the youngest auditor at C&A to take the lead on such a high-profile client.
It’s a big deal.
“We did.” A ghost of a smile was all I could manage as I flipped the suitcase lid and slowly pulled on the zip. Each click of the teeth joining together sounds heavy in his large bedroom. A room that will be ours after we say our I dos. “But I thought that wasn’t happening for at least a few years. I’m only twenty-five, Richard. Plenty of time before we need to start trying for children.”
His arms snaked around my middle, cupping my flat, empty stomach. Kissing my shoulder, he said, “It is. But why wait? We love each other. So why wait to start the inevitable?”
The inevitable.
He kissed my shoulder again and left to brush his teeth while I put the suitcase by the door, ready for the morning.
That night, while Richard and I made love, I fought back the tears that pricked my eyes, telling myself I was just upset that I was leaving the man I cared for deeply... The man I loved.
Then I did something I’d never done before.
I faked it.
Breathing heavily and clenching my legs around his waist, I scrunched my eyes, feeling the unmistakable twitch as he filled the condom, and I pretended to enjoy our last time having sex for four months. Rolling off me, he kissed my lips, turned his back, and fell asleep—no cuddling, no intimacy as always once it’s over.
And I stared at the ceiling as silent tears slid into my hair.
“This can’t possibly be myex-best friend, back from the dead, can it?” Shay booms through the hands-free. “Nearly three days, andpoof,I’m already forgotten. Left behind like last season’s Vera Wang.”
I laugh, even though mentioning my wedding dress designer threatens another panic attack. Taking a steading breath, I say, “I told you I’d call tonight, and it’s tonight, isn’t it?”
“Tonightmeant three hours ago, not when I just got into bed.”
I wince, checking the time and realizing it’s almost two a.m. on the East Coast. Stupid Mountain Standard Time. “Sorry, I’ll let you go.”
“No, no,” she says, and I can see her waving her hand in dismissal in my mind. “I’d rather talk to you than binge reruns ofMarried at First Sightanyway.”
“Thank you for putting me first,” I drawl. “Wait, why do you sound sober? I thought you had that new opening tonight?”
“Urgh,” she groans dramatically. “Don’t even go there. The thought alone is enough to make me want to hurl.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Bad?” she scoffs, her loud voice bouncing around the car again, causing the speakers to shudder violently, telling me that I need to turn down the volume. “Bad doesn’t begin to describe that place. How can someone get Italian so wrong?”
“At least it was a free meal,” I say, trying to find the silver lining and hating that I said the one thing Richard was berating.
“I guess. I’m glad I never took Lenox. He’d have walked out, it was that bad.” She laughs. “Did I mention it wasbad?”
“I think you did.” I chuckle as a calmness like no other washes over me, all from hearing my best friend speak. “Soo,how are things with Lenox?”
“Good. Things are good.”
“Will he be the one to take Shay off the market, you think?”
She hums. “We’ve been on three dates, Morgs. It’s not exactly exclusive. He’s a nice guy, but mega busy, y’know. He’s at a medical conference in Chicago right now.”
“I knew it wasn’t me you missed,” I joke. “You’re just bored because your man is away, and you have no one to annoy now.”
