Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Attending a networking event in Midtown, I know.”
She says it casually, but I’ve little doubt that there’s nothing offhand about the comment. She’s staking her claim, letting me know that she gets to announce Colin’s whereabouts, not me.
“So.” I gesture outward with my hands. “What can I do for you?”
Rebecca glances over at the kitchen, which is, as usual while I’m in the middle of a cooking adventure, a complete mess.
“You cook?” she asks.
“Not well, but I enjoy the process of it.”
Her eyes narrow just the tiniest bit. “How adorably … domestic.”
She doesn’t even bother to hide the snideness in her voice, and I don’t bother to get riled up. Clearly, she thinks my comment also came with an agenda, as though my stir-fry ambitions have to do with impressing Colin into thinking I’m a perfect little woman, as opposed to my real motivation: hunger.
I don’t know why, since by my estimation, she doesn’t deserve it, but I try to put my mind at ease. I think a part of me hopes the woman is wretched because she’s threatened, and if I can just convince her that yes, Colin and I really are getting divorced in a few weeks, regardless of my cooking abilities, she’ll finally be nice.
“I took a couple cooking classes after I’d been in San Francisco a few years,” I say with a friendly smile. “Cooking for one takes some getting used to, but I started to get tired of takeout.”
See? Not trying to steal your man with my domesticated ways.
Don’t get me wrong—I want her man. But he’s made his choice, and I’m doing my best to respect it.
Rebecca gives me a plastic smile then looks pointedly at the living room. “Can we sit?”
“Of course,” I say, even as warning bells sound a little louder in my head at the sense that while I may not have an agenda at the moment, she definitely does.
She precedes me into the living room, gesturing at the couch across from the chair she takes, as though welcoming me to her kingdom. As though I don’t live here. As though I hadn’t picked the throw pillow she’s arranging behind her back. As though I’m not sitting on the same couch where Colin sleeps. As though I’m not the one that folded his blankets and sheets this morning after he got called into an unexpected early meeting.
I see her gaze lock onto the folded bedding and pillow I haven’t yet bothered to put away, and I see the slightest flicker of relief cross her face. Yes, Rebecca. He sleeps on the couch.
Her eyes are slightly friendlier when they come back to me. Slightly.
“Look, Charlotte, I just wanted … well, to be honest, I wanted to apologize.”
“Oh. Wow, okay!” I say, doing a terrible job of hiding my surprise. “What for?”
There are so many things …
“I’ve been such a bitch to you,” she says with a smile that makes me realize how pretty she is. Makes me realize, maybe, what Colin sees in Rebecca. Her teeth are perfect. Maybe he’s a tooth-man. And I bet her hair never frizzes. I bet she never has to tame it into submission for various looks—I bet her hair only has one look: thick and shiny.
“It’s a difficult situation,” I say, defaulting to my favorite go-to line for anything having to do with this woman.
“Thank you for saying that,” she gushes. “It really is. I wish Colin understood that better. I mean, I’ve known since the beginning that you had this arrangement, but I guess it was just … it was much harder to see you in person. To know that he was living with you. And well, you’re not exactly a dog.”
She gives a tinkling laugh, and I force a smile. “It’s not a problem. I can’t imagine how weird this must be.”
Apology accepted. Are we done now?
“Very weird,” she says in agreement. “And I haven’t been handling it well. In fact, just the other day I made …” She sighs. “I’ve just been so frustrated, so freaked out, and I let Colin think …”
“That you wouldn’t move to Ireland with him?”
Her eyes turn to ice.
Oops. I’ve just let it slip that he confided in me about their relationship, and I’ll be really honest with you: I can’t say for certain I didn’t let it slip on purpose.
“He told you about that?” No sign of her perfect teeth now.
“Well, it’s just …” I wave my hand around the apartment, grasping for a way out of this conversation. “We share a space, and we tend to step on each other’s business a lot. It wasn’t a big deal. But things are better with you two now?” I ask, hoping to distract her.
She smiles again, but the gaze remains cold and hard. “Much better, thank you. In fact, you may as well be the first to know … it’s official!”