The Ex by Freida McFadden(14)

I look down again at the map. There’s one way to find out for sure, isn’t there?

I suck in a breath, contemplating my next move. It’s one thing to orchestrate a couple of chance meetings with Joel. If I were to take the train into the city to spy on him and his date, that would be taking things to a whole new level. It would cross a line. I don’t want to be the crazy ex-girlfriend. I don’t.

Yet…

I turn off the stove. I toss my phone back in my purse and grab a light sweater from the closet. “Nonna!” I call. “I’m going out!”





Chapter 6: The New Girl


This man Rob will not shut up.

“So what a thrill to finally meet the wonderful Francesca,” he says. “And now that I’ve met you, I see what all the fuss was about.”

“Rob,” Joel chokes out. “This isn’t…”

There’s an awkward silence while Rob puts it all together. That Cassie is not Francesca. She’s not the wonderful woman who Joel thought was perfect and beautiful and wanted to marry. She’s nothing more than a girl who owns a failing used bookstore.

“Wow,” Rob says. “I really put my foot in my mouth, didn’t I?”

Joel just shakes his head. “Rob, this is Cassie.”

“Well, hello, Cassie.” Rob offers a crooked smile. “Sorry for the mix-up. Have you two been together long?”

“It’s our first date,” Joel says through his teeth.

“Oh wow,” Rob says again. “Shit, Joel, you must hate me.” He flashes Cassie an apologetic look. “I was just exaggerating all that stuff about Francesca, you know. Trying to make him look good in front of his girl.”

“Thanks for that,” Joel mutters.

Rob raps his fingers on the table. “Well, I’ll leave the two of you alone then. Hope I didn’t ruin the evening.”

That remains to be seen.

Cassie sits there, her fingers clutching the hem of her dress, waiting for an explanation, not certain she wants one. She had already suspected Joel had recently come out of a long-term relationship. But it’s one thing to suspect it, and it’s another thing to have it thrown in her face.

She doubts many great love stories have started with being mistaken for the guy’s ex-girlfriend.

“I’m sorry about that,” Joel says. “I’m so… so sorry.”

She shrugs like she gets mistaken for ex-girlfriends on dates all the time. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah…” He rakes a hand through his dark hair. “I just… I think you should know… he was exaggerating. A lot.”

She manages a tiny smile. “So this Francesca wasn’t the most perfect human being who ever was?”

“No.” He lowers his eyes. “She wasn’t.”

A million questions pop into Cassie’s head. When did the relationship end? It must have been recent if this man assumed they were still together. Who ended it? She’s not sure why, but somehow she thinks it was Francesca who pulled the plug on their perfect relationship. Did you love her?

Well, of course he did. That much is obvious from his face.

“I don’t want to talk about Francesca,” Joel interrupts her thoughts. A muscle twitches in his jaw. “That’s the last thing I want to talk about. So… let’s change the subject. Okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees, even though it’s the only thing she wants to talk about. But he’s right. Ex-girlfriends are not an appropriate first-date conversation. Or any date conversation.

A song starts playing in the background. It’s a man’s voice, although Cassie can’t identify the singer or the name of the song. But Joel’s ears perk up and he smiles. “I used to love the song. Haven’t heard it in a long time.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever heard it.”

His eyes widen. “Really? This is Sister Hazel. It was on the radio all the time back in…” He frowns at her. “Is it rude to ask how old you are?”

She laughs. “No, not rude. I’m twenty-six. How old are you?”

He hesitates. “Older than you.”

“Oh, that is so unfair.” She shoots him a look. “I told you how old I am and now you won’t tell me how old you are?”

“Well…”

“Okay, in that case, I’m going to guess…” She squints at him across the table, studying his face for lines and gray hairs. She detects one possible gray hair around his temple. When he smiles, there are lines around his eyes, but they mostly disappear when his face relaxes. Mid-thirties, or thereabouts. But she feels in the mood to tease him. “Fifty… seven?”

His mouth falls open. “That’s a joke, right?”

She blinks. “Older or younger?”

He grins at her. “You know, it makes you look even worse if you agreed to go out with a fifty-seven-year-old if you’re only twenty-six.”

“What can I say? I’m looking for a sugar daddy.”

“Says the girl who wouldn’t even let me pay for dinner.”

The spell that was broken by that idiot who mistook Cassie for the ex-girlfriend has returned full-force. They’re staring at each other again, and even though she loves sushi and hasn’t had it in ages, she can’t wait for the meal to be over so she can walk close to him on the street and maybe get that kiss she’s been thinking about.