I'm Not Charlotte Lucas(43)

“What are you doing here?” Panic rapidly shifted his gaze between me and his table mate, betraying the last minuscule thread of hope I held onto that Andy wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“Hello,” I said, directing my attention to the busty blonde. I reached forward to shake her hand. “I’m Charlie.”

“Laura,” she said, confused.

“Good to meet you, Laura. How do you know Andy?” I tilted my head, hoping to look innocently interested. Andy’s face had gone beet red, making his blond hair look yellow. Not a cute look.

“I’m his hygienist.” She showcased a set of blindingly perfect teeth. It did seem, in some cases, one could have teeth that were too white.

Ah, he had told me about a woman called Laura. So, he was still hooking up with a girl from work? How very unethical of him. Andy swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed, and I glanced between them. Well, great. I’d caught Andy in the act of eating dinner with the hygienist that he had admitted to dating when we were having our weird confessional, but now what? If this were a movie, I would pick up the glass of lemon water on the table and throw it in his face—maybe the acid would go so far as to burn his eyes—but now, in real life? Now I was just mortified.

I felt like an idiot, my neck growing warm from the stares all around the restaurant and the knowledge that Liam was somewhere behind me with front-row tickets to the show.

“How do you know Dr. Jacobsen?” Laura asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Dr. Jacobsen? Oh, Andy. He preferred to be called by the title when he could, but I’d found it stuffy and awkward and never was quite in the habit of saying it as often as he would have liked.

Another warning sign, that. Why had I not seen all the red flags before now?

“We used to date,” Andy said quickly.

I opened my mouth to argue, but it was true, and he probably knew it. I could walk away now, let him and Laura enjoy their dinner and get on with their risqué office romance. But Laura hadn’t known who I was. If they were still dating, he had cheated on her as much as he had me.

Women should always look out for one another.

Resolve settled on my shoulders, and I faced Andy, smiling with no warmth. “Yes, actually. We used to date about a year ago. We didn’t work out because we just weren’t compatible.”

“Tough,” Laura said, trying to look sympathetic. She was likely wondering why I’d approached them in the first place. I looked like the crazy ex now.

“But then I ran into Andy a few weeks ago, and we decided to try again, to see if there was a spark we could rekindle.”

Doubt flickered in Laura’s eyes, and I pressed forward, turning a fake, confused expression on Andy. “What was it you told me when we were in your car last week? Something about dating a woman called Laura from the office, but it was just a fling, right? That no one else compared to the chemistry we had?”

Laura’s expression hardened, and so did Andy’s. That was my cue to exit.

“Well, it was nice running into you,” I lied, lifting my hand in an awkward wave. “Hope I don’t see you around.”

I turned away before Andy could scathe me back and marched toward Vera and Liam. I held Vera’s gaze like I was clutching the edge of a cliff, worried about what would happen if I lifted a finger from the ledge—or glanced at Liam—and afraid I would collapse.

Snatching my purse from where I’d hung it on the back of my chair, I pasted on a smile. “I can’t stay.”

“Go,” Vera said kindly. “Liam will take me home.”

I nodded, spinning on my heel and walking from Fresco’s with my head held high. Heat seared the back of my neck, and I wondered as the door swung shut behind me whether the eyes I was feeling heavily on my back belonged to Andy or Liam.

***

Soft yoga pants, an old, too-large Mickey Mouse T-shirt, and an extra thick Minky blanket all in place. I was nestled securely on my sofa with a DVD in the system. I slowly turned the volume up on the television.

I was done with modern men—at least for tonight—and I was prepared to lose myself in the extra-long rendition of Pride and Prejudice. Bring on Colin Firth in his wet shirtsleeves and hours of the obnoxious Mrs. Bennet. I needed an escape.

Soft instrumental music came on as the camera panned over pale fabric and embroidery needles, and I nestled farther into the couch, leaning my head on the arm. It was a little obnoxious that I felt so hurt and betrayed finding Andy in the restaurant with another woman now, after the fact. I mean, I knew before it even occurred that we were going nowhere fast. I’d even resolved to find a way to gently break it off with him. I had gone so far as to begin preparing my speech, for heaven’s sake.

We made a good go of it, we gave it our best shot, but it just isn’t going to happen between us. I didn’t have the lack of ethical boundaries Andy clearly claimed, and I couldn’t continue to date him when my heart beat so furiously every time I saw Liam—even if that was a dead end. It just wasn’t right.

At least now I was saved from that awkward conversation. I’d simply replaced it with an awkward restaurant call-out instead.

Mr. Darcy and his friend, Mr. Bingley, came on screen, analyzing a country house from a distance as their horses danced, unsettled.

I feel you, horses. I was antsy and unsettled as well. But the rest of the world began to dim as my movie continued. It really was a shame dueling was outlawed, or my dad could have called out Andy, slapped him across the cheek with a glove, and met him at dawn to fight for my honor.