Page 3 of Sweet Caroline
Definitely pissed.
“I can’t…” My voice is rough. Salty tears sting my lip. “I’m not…”
“Okay,” he sighs. “I’m coming to the city. You at Harborview again?”
“Yeah.”
He mumbles something to Olena. “Getting dressed now. Be there in an hour, okay?”
“Jude, I can’t do this anymore.” My voice breaks and my hand starts to shake. I go to switch hands, then remember. Squeeze harder. Will myself to steady.
For once in your life, get your shit together.
“I don’t wanna feel like this anymore.”
His end goes quiet. “Yeah?”
“I’m done. I need help, Jude.”
1
CAROLINE
Dumping a cheating boyfriend should be like firing him from a job. But, instead of making him turn in his company ID and credit card, you should be within your rights to demand he returns what really matters: all mutual friends, the cute pet names he used to call you, and your dignity.
Fletcher clearly didn’t get the memo.
I scowl down at my phone.
Fletcher
Silent treatment still in effect? Fine babe. Suit yourself. But you’re gonna have to play nice with me Saturday whether you like it or not.
Wear that Benedici dress I got you in Milan. Paid enough for it, so it might as well get some use.
Jesus. The audacity.
Can you have a tension headache in advance?
I pinch the bridge of my nose, making a mental note to burn that dress, then silence my phone as I tuck it behind the artgallery’s front desk. Well,deskmight be overstating things. It’s more a glorified lectern than usable workspace.
Loud drilling starts up again across the street and I roll my shoulders, trying to ignore how the floorboards vibrate beneath my heels. I smooth down my linen blazer, then pull out my tablet.
Don’t scream. Just focus on work.
I’ve been doing a lot of that lately: shoving down the urge to scream. I could really use a good scream. Or maybe a racking, sobbing cry. A tantrum.
An orgasm?
Something. Anything to get rid of this relentless dread.
Stop being dramatic, Caroline.I can practically hear my mother reminding me to stand up straight and smile.
If only I could remember how.
It’s bad enough I have to go with Fletcher to this fundraiser. Worse still that I have to wear his engagement ring and pretend he didn’t sleep with half of Washington state on the campaign trail.
My phone pings again and I close my eyes, knowing he’s gonna keep after me until I give in. The same persistence that makes him a gifted campaign manager also makes him a huge pain in the butt.
