No One But You (Silver Springs #2)(117)
“Your parents will be fine,” Amy said. “You need to loosen up, have a few drinks and start dancing. Forget about everything, including that bastard Don and the man he cheated on you with.”
Ellie didn’t think she could get drunk enough to forget about Don. Three days ago, she’d caught him in bed with Leonardo Stubner, part of the administration staff where they all worked. She’d have to face them both—as she had Wednesday, Thursday and today—when she returned to the Diabetes Research Institute on Monday. And that wasn’t the worst of it. Since her “shocking discovery,” he’d gone ahead and come out of the closet, even declared his love for Leo, adding another level of humiliation to what she was suffering by making it all public. Half of their coworkers felt so sorry for the pressure he’d been under to hide his sexuality that they were praising him for having the courage to finally make the big reveal. The other half, those who were critical of his deception, didn’t dare speak out for fear someone would accuse them of being unsympathetic. One way or the other, almost everyone she knew was talking about her and her situation and forming an opinion on it.
After hearing what Amy had just said, Leslie leaned forward, at last showing a spark of interest in Ellie. “Your fiancé cheated on you with another man?”
Ellie squirmed beneath Leslie’s horrified regard. When Amy had mentioned they were taking Ellie out to get her mind off a broken engagement, Leslie had barely reacted. But the circumstances of her failed relationship changed things, made Ellie that much more pathetic. When Ellie had caught her fiancé with his “best friend,” whom he’d known since college—Don was the one who’d gotten Leo hired at the DRI—she’d also come face-to-face with the realization that all the “golfing” trips the two had taken since she and Don started dating hadn’t been as innocent as she’d been led to believe.
The one man who’d told her he wanted to spend forever with her hadn’t really been attracted to her in the first place. He’d merely been using her as a cover so that he wouldn’t become estranged from his ultrareligious parents.
That hurt more than her lost dream of starting a family.
But the fact that she was ill at ease in a nightclub wasn’t Don’s fault. She’d never felt comfortable in large groups, didn’t consider herself particularly adept at the kind of social interaction they required. She’d been too devoted to getting her PhD in biomedical engineering, and following that up with a postdoctoral fellowship at the DRI, where she’d met Don, a fellow scientist, to have much time for clubbing.
She shouldn’t have let Amy drag her here, she decided as she gazed around. But maybe one of Amy’s friends would show up, and maybe he’d somehow be able to make her feel less like a loser or distract her from the pain. Nothing else had worked thus far, so she forced herself to hold out hope. If she didn’t make some effort to recover and move on, even if it only resulted in a very short rebound relationship the first time, she’d die an old maid one day. That had never seemed more of a possibility than now. Her thirtieth birthday loomed ahead, but instead of planning her wedding, as she’d anticipated, she’d be doing all she could to tolerate continuing her research while bumping into her ex-fiancé and his lover on a daily basis.
A man from across the room started toward them. With his sandy-colored hair swept up off his forehead using some fixative, he was attractive in a frat-boy way—ultrapreppy—which was a look she admired.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked.
Frat Boy immediately singled out Amy—not that Ellie could blame him. Dressed in a short, tight-fitting black dress, six-inch stilettos and smoky makeup with bright red lipstick, Amy oozed sex appeal. So did Leslie, for that matter. Thanks to Amy’s insistence, even Ellie had had a complete makeover and was dressed in a similar fashion, except her dress was white and dipped low in the back instead of the front—the only concession Amy would allow her natural modesty. Amy had done her best to prime the hook, but Ellie didn’t feel she made very tantalizing bait.
You need to get laid, that’s what you need, her friend would say when she tried to balk about wearing the skimpy lingerie she had on under her dress or complained about the height of the heels Amy had pressed on her. If someone did ask her to dance, she’d probably turn an ankle, which was hardly conducive to hooking up later. Then her first Brazilian would for sure have not been worth the shocking pain.
Amy looked Frat Boy up and down in a seductive manner before widening her smile. “Sure. It’ll save me the trouble of having to come searching for you when I’m ready to leave.”
He obviously liked that response. Ellie had to admit it was smooth. She almost brought up the Notes app on her phone so she could jot it down—except she was fairly certain that line wouldn’t come off so suave if she ever attempted to use it. Flirting sounded silly coming from her. She loved sarcasm, had always traded put-downs with her father, but she doubted that talent would impress other men.
With some effort, thanks to the pressing throng of people that filled the club, the man located a chair and dragged it over before introducing himself as Manny. He made small talk for a few minutes. Then he waved over his friend, a shorter, more muscular version of himself, who’d been getting drinks at the bar.
Manny explained that they were both commercial real estate agents with Howard, Hasselhoff & McMann, a local firm, and introduced his friend as Nick. Nick focused on Leslie, since Manny already had dibs on Amy, making Ellie the third wheel she would expect to be in such a situation. She tried to contribute to the conversation but found herself peeking at her phone when Amy wasn’t looking. Not only was she uncomfortable, she was bored. But if she tried to get a taxi, Amy would merely remind her of the “friends” who were coming to meet her.