Page 1 of Seven Days

1

BRIANNA

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Seven seconds ago, I was happily engaged, blissfully unaware that my future husband wasn’t just logging late hours at work; he was out fucking one of the partners’ personal assistants. Standing beside our table at a busy cafe in West Hollywood, her big brown eyes fill with tears as she realizes he made her the other woman. Trevor sends her a derisive look, full of wrath, before turning his blue eyes back to mine. He opens his mouth to speak, but I throw my hand up. I had a feeling he was hiding something from me, and now my stomach churns with embarrassment as my pride and heart fall apart piece by piece.

Swinging my handbag over my shoulder, I stand to leave, but the woman grabs my arm as mascara laced tears cut tracks down her cheeks.

“I had no idea.”

“I believe you, and I don’t blame you.” I pull my arm from her grasp as I dig deep for the stoic mask I perfected years ago when I watched my mom die of cancer. It’s been a long time since I needed my poker face, but I’m happy to know I can still pull it off.

“Brianna, wait,” Trevor says as he stands to follow me.

I don’t turn around as my pace increases, making my way past a large party on their way to be seated, knowing they’ll be good cover for my escape. The hot afternoon June air envelops me as I dart out onto the sidewalk. I don’t know where I’m going; I just need to find a place to hide out and think.

I walk a few blocks, happy with my choice to wear flats. Trevor probably would have been able to catch up with me eventually if I’d been in heels. I glance down an alley and see a sign for a place called The Generous Pour.

The weathered sign and poor location make it the perfect spot to hide away. He’ll never think to look for me in a dive bar with an entrance off an alley. Pushing open the door, I walk into a nearly empty space. Movie posters from the 80s dot the walls and the sticky floor pulls at the soles of my flats as I cross to a long wooden bar lined with backless vinyl stools. Formica topped tables are spread out haphazardly throughout the rest of the room; two of them occupied by patrons who look like they could have slept in their seats.

I opt for a stool at the far end of the bar with a view of the front door, on the off chance Trevor comes looking in here. The bartender, a hipster with gauged ears and full sleeve tattoos on both arms, looks over at me skeptically. I give my head a slight shake so he knows not to come down yet.

I need to think. I can’t go home. I moved in with Trevor after we got engaged last spring. Tears burn my eyes as I let myself think about the utter betrayal. He cheated on me. He was inside another woman. I’m so embarrassed and horrified.

God, this hurts.

My chest seizes as I imagine him with the slender blonde. She was pretty, the sort of common blonde that effortlessly exists in southern California. She’s everything I’m not, with my dark hair and curvy body. It’s the only thing I have left from my mom so I try to cherish it, even as I feel the looks from the shallow LA crowd.

Mentally, I run through the friends I could stay with. My best friend, Sara, has moved to DC for a Supreme Court clerkship so she’s out. All my other friends are mutuals with Trevor and I can’t for the life of me imagine trying to explain this situation to them. With a sigh, I pull my phone out and call the one person I can always count on, my dad.

“Hello, beautiful.” His deep voice immediately comforts me and I can’t hold the tears back.

I sniffle once and I feel him tense through the phone.

“What’s wrong, sweet pea?” he asks as I try to fight back the sob that is desperately tearing at my throat.

“Trevor cheated on me.” The words burn as they tumble from my lips. “I need somewhere to stay while I figure things out.”

“That piece of shit,” he growls. “I’m in Toronto for the next week and the house is being repainted.”

“Fuck.” The first tear falls along with all my hopes. “I can just check into a hotel. It’ll be okay.”

“Wait, let me check on a few things. Where are you now?”

“A dive bar in West Hollywood.”

“Okay, stay there. Have a drink to calm down and read one of your alien books.” He has never let me live down the fact that he found me reading a science fiction romance on vacation last winter. “I’m on this. Do you have a car?”

“No, Trevor drove.” I motion for the bartender. “I can always just grab an Uber to a hotel, Dad. It’s not a big deal.”

“Give me ten minutes. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I hit end on the call and look at the liquor lined up on the shelf behind the bartender. “Vodka Sprite with a splash of cranberry, please.”

“No problem.” He looks at me with just the smallest bit of compassion. He must have overheard my phone conversation.

I set my phone face up on the bar and look around The Generous Pour. Multi-colored Christmas lights are stapled around the top of the walls, and the yellow paint looks like it’s seen better days. When my phone vibrates, drawing my attention, I grimace when I see Trevor’s name and face appear on the screen. He’s trying to FaceTime me, but I decline it.

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