Half Empty (First Wives, #2)(43)

“You sure?”

“I’m a big girl.”

He kissed the side of her head and left her with Jerry.

“You know what the best part about country music is?” he asked as he took a giant step closer.

“What is that?”

“Songs about love triangles always race up the charts.”

She tried not to look toward Wade and failed. He’d approached Jordyn, and she’d leaned in for a hug.

Trina looked away, not wanting to watch.

She found Jerry staring at her.

“I think you’re going to be good for our Wade.”

“‘Our’?” He made Wade sound like a possession.

“For his musical muse. Perfect timing, too.”

Trina wasn’t following him. “How is that?”

“Between albums, between tours. Soak up a little love, a little heartache.”

Trina stopped pretending to smile. “You want his heart to ache?”

Jerry seemed to catch himself, and he shook his head. “Oh, you know what I mean.”

Yeah, she did. Wade Thomas was a meal ticket to someone like Jerry, and the man didn’t even try to hide it. Trina didn’t want to spend another minute at the man’s side.

“There is something I need to do,” she said as she took a step back.

“Nice meeting you,” he said.

She just smiled and walked away. “Asshole.”



Avery could finally breathe. She’d dumped the six-figure watch along with several of its five-figure brothers with an auction house on Madison Avenue and searched out lunch with a view of Central Park. The crisp morning blossomed into a balmy afternoon. The temptation to stay in Manhattan the entire afternoon and spend some money tickled her shopping bone. Then she remembered her last credit card bill and the amount of money she’d spent on things that were sitting in her LA condominium, collecting dust.

She sat at the top of Bergdorf Goodman, sipping her chardonnay, playing with her salad, and considered it a compromise. Eating in one of the most expensive and famous department stores would have to do. Maybe when she returned to collect the money after the sale of Fedor’s trinkets, she would indulge. But for now, she would try her hand at a budget. Her parents had tried to teach her money management since she was in college . . . well, her father attempted, her mother told her to marry a rich man. Her thirty-first birthday had passed the month before, so maybe a new leaf was in order.

The waiter returned to her table. Early twenties, tall, camera ready . . . he was yummy in all the right places. “Another wine?”

“I shouldn’t.” She was driving.

“How about some fresh bread to go with the second glass?” He flirted with his smile.

“If you insist.”

She checked out his ass as he walked away.

He returned a couple of minutes later and poured from an open bottle. “I’m sorry about the cork.”

She glanced at the glass. “What cork?”

He winked. “The cork that accidentally managed to slip into your drink. I’ll have to comp this for you.”

“Ah, that’s very nice . . .” She glanced at his name tag. “Norman . . .” She tried not to laugh. “Your name is Norman?”

“Blame my parents.”

“Well, thank you.”

She nibbled on the bread, drank the wine, and checked her e-mail while lifting her gaze every once in a while to see if Norman was watching her.

The next time he came to the table, he didn’t ask if she wanted another glass of wine. “I get off at six.”

Damn it . . .

She needed to get back on the highway. There was still so much to do at Trina’s house. This was a job. One she was actually going to get paid to do.

Norman, the booty call, wasn’t on the schedule.

“I’m going to have to pass.” Adulting sucked! “Work.”

“What if I gave you my number?”

She smiled. “I don’t live in town, but I do visit often.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Avery waltzed out of Bergdorf Goodman with an energy she didn’t have walking in. She’d spent the morning conducting business. Real business. Had a little mostly liquid lunch that resulted in a phone number and a promise. Apparently she could be a proper adult and pick up a hottie, even if his name was Norman.

She buzzed through a portion of Central Park in an effort to work off any of the liquor she’d consumed. She hadn’t finished that last glass of wine, even though she’d been tempted to do so.

Adulting.

She was adulting, damn it.

The hour to hit the freeway and avoid the bulk of traffic fast approached, so she made her way to the parking garage. As she did, she checked her phone for messages.

Nothing.

Which had started to bug her. With all of the male attention she found, there wasn’t anyone who took the effort to check on her just to see if she was okay. Even her parents didn’t bother with any real consistency. Only her new friends filled that void. Lori would call when she was in town, or stop by for a glass of wine. Avery knew she was the one to most often sneak up on Lori and Reed and invite herself over for a drink or dinner. The advantage of living in the same building.

Shannon had started calling her on occasion, although the two of them didn’t hang out as much as they probably should. Maybe the conservative nature of Shannon would rub off on Avery if she spent more time with the woman. If anyone knew how to adult, it was Shannon. The woman still played the part of political wife several years after the marriage was over.