Page 54 of The Sheikh's Purchased Bride

Zoey was unwilling to accept that yet. Not after everything else that had gone wrong that day.

“He texted to say he was running a bit late,” she lied. “Got a flat on the way over here. They’ve said it may take a bit of time to fix, so he suggested I order an appetizer in the meantime.”

With that, Zoey put in an order for Asian dumplings and prayed she would have someone to share them with by the time they arrived. She did not, but mercifully her waitress tactfully avoided the issue.

Zoey found she could barely taste the ginger-flavored pot stickers before her. She wanted to cry. Not in the composed, quiet, way an adult cries, but with the wild abandon of a child throwing a full blown temper tantrum. She wanted to kick her legs and scream “it’s not fair” at the top of her lungs. She wanted someone to wipe her eyes and tell her everything would be all right. But she knew her mother was right about one thing: she wasn’t nine anymore. Adults didn’t get to throw tantrums.

Zoey was perfectly aware that there was no point in doing so, but she waited another fifteen minutes anyway, just to give him the benefit of the doubt. By that point, she had been at Big Tony’s for a full hour and texted Blake three more times.

She finally settled her bill, feeling dejected and unloved, and took the subway back home, no longer caring what an army of jostling people might do to her dress.

“Some relationship expert I turned out to be,” she muttered dejectedly. “I try to help people find love all day, but I can’t even find a good match for myself.”

By the time she reached her apartment, Zoey felt as if a storm cloud was hanging over her. She fell into bed and reflected that, aside from the sympathetic waitress, at least there were no witnesses to her humiliation, and that it was still possible, if unlikely, that Blake had an excellent excuse for not showing up.

FIVE

The next morning, however, Zoey woke up to a very long text from Blake, explaining where he had been the previous night. As it turned out, about two hours before the date, he had discovered the Facebook page of a woman he used to know, named Elmyra. In high school, Blake had allegedly carried a torch for the girl, but he’d never had the courage to tell her so. He had messaged her, and the two had talked for several hours. It had been long past midnight when the conversation ended, and only then had he remembered his rendezvous with Zoey. He apologized for standing her up, but even more, he was sorry to report he and Elmyra had decided to go out on a date.

Zoey’s face crumpled as she read the message. She had been forgotten. Just plain forgotten, and dumped via text message. She couldn’t decide whether to cry or break everything within reach, so she settled for swearing furiously every few moments. She called the agency and told her mother she was sick because she didn’t think she could face looking at another human being.

Zoey remained at home all that day and the next one, seething at being so horribly cast away. Her phone lay on the floor in several pieces—she had thrown it against the wall when Blake texted to ask if she could recommend a good hookah bar for him and Elmyra to meet at.

By the morning of the third day, Zoey felt reasonably sure she could get back to work without breaking down at her desk, so she got ready and hopped on the subway.

She would have been stuck standing the entire way to Manhattan, except the five-year-old kid from a few days ago was there again, and she talked her into taking her seat. Half a dozen people praised the girl for doing what any of them easily could have, and she took the accolades in her stride, giving most of the credit to her mother for teaching her manners.

Zoey thought about what her mother was teaching her: cynicism, deception, apathy and greed. She had to admit that Melinda had been a much more loving person a long time ago, before her relationship with Zoey’s father had started to go south. But Zoey didn’t want to spend her commute thinking about relationships—she would have enough of that to do when she got to work.

She picked up her smartphone and went to her favorite news site. Almost immediately, she saw something among the top stories that made her sigh.

“Spotted at the city’s exclusive Three Rivers restaurant: real estate magnate Stelios Zakiridis and reality television star Brie Hudson. Speculation is that the pair are dating, though neither could be reached for comment.”

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