Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(15)
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m tired of holding this grudge.”
Talon nodded and gave my hands a squeeze before letting go and standing. “I have to get to work, but whatever you need, you know I’m here. And be careful with the hot lawyer.”
“I don’t have to be,” I said, laughing. “He’s already reminded me twice that we can’t happen again.”
“Well, he reminded you about that before and look how that turned out,” she said with a wink before walking away.
Yeah, it turned out with him breaking it off just when I thought we were reaching a new level. A new, bullshit level that I conjured up in my head because that’s all it was—bullshit. What bothered me most when he broke it off was that I didn’t listen to him when he said he wasn’t interested in a relationship. I didn’t listen to him when he said we couldn’t do what we were doing. I learned, though. I learned when people show you who they are, you should listen. And he showed me who he was the entire time. He never hid behind false promises or pretty words. He did what he said he would do, and I hadn’t faulted him for that. I couldn’t.
I didn’t come to appreciate Victor’s honesty until I realized the man I shared a life with had lied to me. Continually. And then I found out he’d lied and cheated. When I threatened divorce, he threw a hissy fit and started trash-talking me to anybody in the industry who would listen. In my industry. He’d been so conniving about it, too, only talking to people I didn’t know but only hoped to work with. Shortly after a business friend of mine gave me a heads-up, the tabloids were talking about our divorce and how heartbroken he’d been. They stated his affairs began when I said I was leaving him. The sad part is that at first I thought the rumors were false. That there was no way he was already with another woman, but I quickly realized there was usually some truth to the stories printed.
If I were a different person, like Harlow Winters, I’d call in a favor and spread rumors about Gabe that made him look worse than Ben Affleck cheating on Jennifer. That wasn’t me, though, and ultimately, underneath all of the shit that had smeared his character and our marriage, I still believed in the nice guy from the middle of nowhere that I’d fallen in love with.
I DIDN’T HESITATE in saying yes when my best friend, Chrissy, called me to meet her for dinner at a new hot spot. I called Marcus, who was more than a little surprised at my request for him to be ready at nine o’clock. It’s not that I hadn’t gone out since the separation, but I’d been very low-key about it, opting to go to friends’ houses and get drunk there instead of out in public where anybody could take my picture and make a fool out of me. Not that I needed help making a fool out of myself when I was drunk. No, I did that all on my own, but I didn’t need it all over the tabloids.
I’d agreed to meet Chrissy at nine thirty, and when Marcus knocked on my door a second time, telling me it was nine twenty and I was still trying to figure out what shoes I was going to wear, I knew I’d be late.
“Fashionably late,” I said to him as we walked to the car.
“That’s one way to put it,” he responded. I smiled, feeling the excitement of my night out coursing through me. “Are we taking the Porsche?”
I nodded as he pressed the clicker to the garage. The white florescent lights flickered on and we walked toward the white Cayenne. I wasn’t sure where Gabe stood on the cars situation and who would keep what, and I wasn’t a big car person. Most days I drove my Prius, but if I had the chance to, I was totally keeping the Cayenne. We made it to the restaurant at the same time Chrissy did, both of us getting out of our cars at the same time. The few paparazzi standing outside ran toward her to get a picture. I started walking to the front of the restaurant, figuring I’d meet her inside to avoid the attention, but she squealed out my name and I had to turn around to acknowledge her.
“You look so good,” she said as she ran over to hug me.
She smelled of flowers and Burberry perfume. The scent of our adolescence, when our only worries had been how late we could sleep and whether or not our parents would be home in the morning after we’d had a wild night out on the town.
“So do you,” I said, bringing my hand up and touching the tips of her short, wavy blonde hair. “Love the new hair.”
“I had it done today. Still getting used to it. The fam sends their love, by the way.” She smiled big as she stepped aside for us to walk into the restaurant. I smiled at the mention of them. We used to be attached at the hip when we were kids and then in college. I don’t think I had one memory that Chrissy wasn’t in. I practically lived in her house during high school, probably because I didn’t have any siblings and when I was there it was like I had three sisters. Some days, when life got shitty, I yearned for her and her sisters and this was definitely one of those times.
We were seated as promptly as you can expect to be seated when you’re in the presence of a reality star. One of the reasons I hadn’t seen her in a few months was because she was busy filming her show. Between her filming schedule and my work schedule, our free time rarely coincided.
“I see you still have all of your fingers,” she said, taking a sip of her margarita. I smiled as I took a sip of mine.
“What makes you think I’m going to chop off my fingers? You need to get over that.”