Page 79 of Mister Cowboy
“Ouch! Damn, woman. All right, you win, but you need to be a responsible Google user. You wouldn’t research the guy the entire time you were dating, and now, here you are getting pissed about stuff you already know isn’t true,” he grumbled under his breath as he rubbed at his arm.
“Yeah, well, I should have done it sooner. He’s been dating her for over a year. She’s in almost every single one of the paparazzi photos. Look at this one.” She pointed to the screen where Brecken stood in a charcoal suit with an arm wrapped around Nadia’s small waist. “This was taken only a week before my birthday.”
“What’s the problem? You knew he had dated people before you.”
“Sure, but Nadia isn’t just someone. She’s his assistant, and she’s beautiful.” She waved in front of the screen and slumped down in her chair. Nadia’s mocking grin stared back at her. Her perfect, full, red lips shot the camera the same look that January had the unfortunate luck to have seen in person twice already.
“I thought you were doing okay with this,” he said softly.
Of course he did. It was all she’d said the eight million times he’d asked how she was doing since the night Brecken had walked out.
“It’s just—” She paused. “It isn’t just him. It’s everything. Brecken’s having a baby, you finally started dating someone for real, and my dad is getting married. It feels like everyone is moving on without me.”
“First off, I’m not going anywhere. You’ll always be my top girl. Second, why don’t you come out to dinner with Carrie and me tonight? It’ll get your mind off things.”
“Third wheel it on your first real date? I don’t think so.”
“It isn’t our first real date, and it’s fine. I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you to come.”
“It’s the first time you’ve taken her out on a real date night at the appropriate dating hour—it’s your first real date,” she said, pointing her finger for emphasis.
“Those dating rules are dumb and outdated.”
His comment made her think of Brecken. It sounded like something he’d say.
She peeked back at the screen. They looked like the perfect couple. The photo could have been taken at a red-carpet event instead of some local charity based on how great they looked huddled together in their formal attire and camera-ready smiles. Had she ever looked that good with him? The comparison was no contest. Brecken and Nadia looked like they belonged together. Dark and light, big and small, bristly and bitchy.
She wanted nothing more than to sulk with a quart of ice cream and reality television, but giving in and moping felt like letting Nadia win. She refused to let that woman win anything else.
“Fine, count me in,” she said, standing and placing a hand to her empty stomach. “But only because we don’t have any real food in this house.”
* * *
January had almost startedto enjoy herself with Michael and Carrie when Nadia sashayed through the restaurant on the arm of a man who she could only see as a Brecken impersonator. His brown hair wasn’t quite as dark, his eyes not quite as soulful, even the suit he wore wasn’t as nice or eye catching as those Brecken wore. He was a knock-off version of the man whose baby she carried.
“Jan? You all right?” Michael’s voice came reassuringly as she watched the couple move through the restaurant to a table on the far side of the room.
“Nadia,” was all she managed to say.
Michael followed her line of vision and muttered under his breath, “Fuck. You wanna go?”
She debated what do do. They’d waited for over thirty minutes to be seated and another hour to get their food—so leaving before they finished their meals felt dramatic and unnecessary.
When she hadn’t answered, Michael moved to stand. “Come on, you’re white as a ghost.”
“No,” she said, meeting his gaze and resting a hand on top of his. “Let’s finish our dinner.”
January offered Carrie and Michael a brave smile that felt like it might crack her face, and picked up her fork. Michael broke the heavy tension by picking up the conversation.
Her attention went in and out as she sat, smiling and nodding, but lost in her own thoughts. Shaking her head, she tried to focus all her attention on Michael and Carrie. They really were a cute couple. Michael doted on her in a way he did with every woman, making her feel as if the entire world revolved around her, and Carrie ate up the attention, her ear-to-ear smile never leaving her face.
“But why Tasmanian Devil?” Carrie asked between giggles, lifting Michael’s shirtsleeve to reveal his ridiculous cartoon tattoo.
“Taz is awesome,” he said defensively, showing off his arm proudly.
“His parents were hippies,” January said between bites. “He wasn’t allowed to watch television or play with toys—he had to make his own out of sticks.” She winked playfully at him.
“Hippies, really?” Carrie asked.
