On the Rocks(78)

“Oh, there’s the guy,” Lara said as I strained to follow her gaze. The champagne sender had originally had his back to us, but now he stood facing us, wearing a very orange polo shirt and khaki shorts. He smiled slightly and waved. “He’s cute, actually, isn’t he?” Lara asked.

I felt the color drain from my face and heat prickled the nape of my neck. I swallowed hard and grasped the bar, hoping a firm grip would keep me upright. Apparently, my first instinct was wrong. I would not, in fact, take a free bottle of champagne from Lucifer.

I grabbed Lara’s flute out of her hand and poured our drinks down the bar sink.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Lara watched in horror as the bubbles fizzed and dissipated.

“The guy . . . that’s Ben,” I said, my voice quivering despite my best efforts to stop it.

“Is the bottle bad?” the bartender asked.

“The bottle is fine. It’s the sender who’s bad.” I grabbed a dry cocktail napkin from the stack on the bar, borrowed a pen from the bartender, and furiously scribbled a note. I asked a waitress to deliver it for me.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lara gasped. “That’s Ben? Live and in the flesh? Shouldn’t he be going through a desert on a horse with no name or something? What’s he doing back east?” she asked, but my brain was having a hard time processing her oh so many unanswerable questions.

“I don’t know. I didn’t even know he was in this time zone, but he’s been texting me a lot lately and I’ve ignored them. Maybe that’s what he wanted to tell me.”

“You’ve been ignoring him? I’m so proud of you!” she said.

“Thanks. I apparently picked a great time to get over him. Those were messages I maybe should’ve answered.”

“Of all the bars in all the world, he had to walk into yours,” Lara mused.

“Yeah, well, this is some seriously f*cked-up version of Casablanca. Leave it to me to corrupt a classic.”

“I can’t believe he has the balls to send you a bottle of champagne as, what, a peace offering? What does he want from you?” Lara was angry, and she wasn’t alone.

Grace returned to the bar after saying hello to the rest of the legal eagles and wrapped her arm around my waist. “Abby, you need to get out of here. Now.” She turned around and scanned the group again, her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. She slammed her fist on the bar. “I don’t want to have to tell you this, but . . .”

“I saw him,” I said, trying hard to keep my eyes from gravitating back to where he was standing. “I don’t know what to do! I’ll look pathetic if I leave. I don’t want him to think I’m still so hung up on him that I can’t even be in the same room as him. I want him to think I’ve moved on.”

“What the f*ck is he doing here?” Grace screamed. “You’re doing so well, and I told him that if he thought he was going to win you back he could forget it. I told him you were single and loving it and you’d rather be alone forever than spend one more night with him.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding!” I wailed. It’s amazing how the good intentions of friends can sometimes make you want to kill them. “I want him to think that I’m seeing someone. I want him to think that I’m dating half of Newport. I don’t want him to know I’m alone!” I hissed, mortified as we all turned and watched the waitress hand Ben the napkin note.

“No offense, Abby, but that’s ridiculous. He knows you’re not seeing anyone. You’ve been talking to him! I’ve seen his name in your phone.”

“You’ve checked my phone? What are you, a jealous boyfriend?” I asked.

“No, a concerned friend, and phone-checking is completely within my rights. I also saw that lately you’ve been ignoring him. Good girl.”

I made a mental note to add a password, and possibly a padlock, to my iPhone.

“I didn’t know he was coming home, but since I also didn’t know that he didn’t want to marry me, that’s not all that surprising. It’s probably on his Facebook page.”

The three of us watched as Ben read the note and laughed. Apparently, he thought it was a joke. Apparently, he thought I was a joke. And that was more than I could stand for one evening.

“He’s not cute at all now that I get a better look at him,” Lara scoffed in a failed attempt to make me feel better.

“What did you write on that napkin?” Grace asked.

“I told him I would sooner drink from a toilet than from that bottle. Not my best work, but I had no time to prepare.”

“Abby, I don’t think he took the hint,” Lara said as she nodded in his direction. “He’s coming over here.”

It’s funny. I’d been thinking about what I would say to him if I ever had the chance to speak to him in person instead of hiding behind my computer screen. For some reason, I was much braver in the scenarios where I was envisioning seeing him than I was now that the opportunity was actually real. Instead of having any of the dozen conversations I had rehearsed in my head, I decided to take a slightly different route.

I turned and ran for the exit like the bar was on fire.





Chapter 19



Cupid Clearly Hates Me