Page 74 of A Merry Irish Christmas
She’d thought he was as into her as she was into him – that they had a spark, a connection. But it seemed she’d been kidding herself. It was the Greg situation all over again. At least this time it had happened sooner and she hadn’t wasted years on something that was never going to work.
Exhausted from her journey and her overactive mind, she went to bed early. She just wanted to go to sleep and put the past couple of weeks behind her. Maybe she’d stay in bed until New Year, and emerge renewed, as if from a cocoon. Good luck with that, she thought, as she pulled the covers over herself and burrowed into her pillow, thoughts of Evan still revolving endlessly in her head.
The next day, she went back to work. Even though she was tired, jet-lagged and depressed, and her whole system was out of whack, it felt good to be back in her normal routine – taking the subway to Bowling Green, picking up a coffee at the bodega and walking the last couple of blocks to her building on a frosty New York morning, the city streets still decked out with Christmas sparkle and glitter, riding the elevator to the tenth floor, sitting at her desk and getting back to work. She spent the morning catching up with emails, making calls, sorting through résumés and setting up interviews with job candidates.
The buzz of the office was a welcome distraction and by lunchtime, she felt almost back to her normal self. As the day went on, Dingle and Evan felt more and more remote, like a distant memory or a vaguely remembered dream. It seemed unreal.
Gina called by her office mid-morning.
‘Want to go out for a drink after work?’
Mary offered her an apologetic smile. ‘I’d love to, but I’m going over to Greg’s to get my stuff.’
‘Ugh.’ Gina grimaced. ‘That sucks.’
‘Yeah, I’m not looking forward to it. But it has to be done.’
‘I can go with you, if you want back-up?’
‘Thanks, but it’s fine. I’ve made sure he’s not going to be there, so it won’t be so bad.’ She still had the keys to Greg’s apartment, and she’d told him she’d leave them once she’d taken all her stuff.
‘Want to grab lunch, then? I want to hear all about Christmas in Dingle.’
Mary smiled. ‘Lunch would be great.’ It would be good to talk about Evan. It would make it seem more real, convince herself that it had all really happened. She wouldn’t tell Gina his name, of course, but the rest…
‘Oh my God!’ Gina shrieked when Mary confessed all over lunch at a nearby diner. ‘You had a holiday fling!’
Mary grinned sheepishly down at her plate, concentrating on tossing dressing through her salad.
‘Was he really hot?’
‘Sohot.’
Gina shook her head, looking at Mary with something like awe. ‘You never cease to surprise me, Mary McBride. Go you! Way to get over Greg!’ She held up her hand for a high five and Mary slapped it. ‘And this guy lives here in New York! I mean, what are the chances? So, tell me more. What was he like?’
‘He was pretty grumpy at first – which is kind of understandable.He’d just been dumped, like me. His girlfriend cheated on him.’
‘So he ran away to Ireland to lick his wounds, and then he met you! This is starting to sound like a classic romcom.’
‘Anyway, he wasn’t at all happy about me being there at first. But once he got over that, he was really sweet – funny and friendly – and we had a very nice time together.’
‘I bet! So are you going to see him again?’
Mary’s smile faded. ‘Nah, I don’t think so. He said we should hang out here, but…’ She twisted her mouth.
‘He’s ghosting you now?’
‘No. We just never exchanged numbers. And I know I could get his number from Mum, but now I’m wondering if that was deliberate on his part?’ She looked hopefully at Gina, but the fact that she didn’t immediately rule out the possibility wasn’t the reassurance Mary had been hoping for.
Gina twisted her mouth sympathetically. ‘That happened to me once. I met this great guy – or so I thought – at a bar one night, and we hit it off right away. I went home with him and we ended up spending the whole weekend together at his place. It was so romantic. We went for a picnic in Central Park the next day and I met his friends. And he was so open and affectionate all the time, I thought I’d found one of the good ones and it was the start of something great. I didn’t go home until Monday evening. I’d done the walk of shame into work that morning, after another night of mind-blowing sex. Then I realised I didn’t have his number.’
Mary’s heart sank as she saw where this story was going.
Gina shrugged. ‘I didn’t think too much of it. He’d said to call him when he kissed me goodbye that morning.’ Her eyes glazed over with a faraway look. ‘I thought we were just a pair of idiots, too busy kissing and falling in love to think of mundane detailslike swapping numbers. So I went over to his place after work the next night.’ She gave a little shiver. ‘It was horrible… chilling. He obviously wasn’t pleased to see me, and I knew right away that not giving me his number was intentional. I felt like some kind of pathetic stalker turning up at his door like that. It was so humiliating.’
‘Oh, Gina. What an asshole!’
‘Yeah. He wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but he didn’t invite me in or anything, just left me standing there on the stoop like an idiot. He took my phone and put his number into it. He said he had plans for that night but we should hang out again some time. But I knew he didn’t mean it. I deleted his number as soon as I got home, just in case I’d ever be tempted to call it in a moment of weakness.’ She took a sip of her water and sighed. ‘The next time I saw him was in Central Park a couple of months later. He was with some girl, who looked like she was having the time of her life. Like, she was so happy to be with him, you know? He was holding her hand and I could just tell he was making her feel really special, treating her just like he’d treated me, doing all that romantic stuff with her, introducing her to his friends like she meant something to him. And I realised he was just like that with everyone. It was nothing to do with me or her or any other girl. None of us were special to him. It was just what he did – his version of a one-night stand, I guess.’
