“Settling, huh? Is that why he bought me this?” Beth smiled smugly, raising her left hand to expose a shiny emerald-cut diamond on her ring finger.
Renee glared at her. “That was mean,” she said in low voice. “She’s going through a hard time, Beth. You don’t have to rub your happiness in her face.”
“But it’s okay for her to say that Eddie and I are settling for each other?” Beth squared her shoulders, rising from her chair. “God, Renee. She can do whatever she wants to you and you still stick up for her.”
As I watched Beth storm out the door, I couldn’t help but feel a sting of jealousy. Even hypercritical, outspoken Beth Broadley had found someone who loved her. It seemed like everyone around me had someone to spend their lives with, and I was just floating around in a pool of unavailable men, searching to find unattainable love in the last place I should be looking.
Chapter 21
The internet was an evil, evil invention. A cruel, cackling abundance of unnecessary knowledge, ready and waiting, at your disposal. A place where, in less than an hour’s time, you could find anything and everything you’d ever wanted to know about someone. And even things you didn’t want to know.
Her name was Fiona Marsden. She’d grown up in Melbourne, Australia, and now lived in West Hollywood. She was 25, five foot nine, blonde and beautiful. Not exotic-beautiful in the way you’d imagine a model to be, more of a girl-next-door beautiful. Bright, round, blue eyes, waist-long hair, wide smile. It was easy to see what David liked about her. She had that carefree glow of youth and innocence. I imagined her smiling at strangers in the subway, reading a book on a park bench in some foreign country.
It’d been rather easy to find her information. All I had to do was find the edition of Pace that had launched around the time they’d met. There she was on page 36, modeling a fitness clothing line at a sporting event that Pace had sponsored. And then, once I had her name, the beautiful internet directed me to the rest of her life.
Surprisingly, as I trolled through her modeling portfolio, searching for something, any sort of flaw, I just couldn’t hate her. She looked… nice. Sweet. Like someone who sure-as-hell deserved a lot better than David.
Most of her Facebook photos were private, which was a good thing because as much as I didn’t want to see her and David together, if it was there, it would be impossible not to look. Every day. And show people. And look again. And drive myself insane.
Thankfully, David didn’t have a Facebook profile. Another boost to my sanity.
Of course, there was the vengeful part of me that wanted to email her and tell her that her fiancé was a cheating asshole, but I knew better. She’d figure it out on her own, in time. Hopefully before it was too late.
As I looked through her photos one last time, a feeling of sadness came over me. I was certain that once I saw who she was, I’d hate her, but instead I just felt sad for her. Because at one time, I had been her. And one day, she would be me. I would never wish that upon anyone.
Back to the book I went. As much as I hated to admit it, Beth’s words had really gotten to me. The problem was, I was too stubborn for therapy. I was more of a solve-my-own-issues type of girl.
The next chapter in My Kick-Ass Life talked about the conscious and subconscious minds, and how our upbringing and past experiences affected the person we were today. As I delved into the pages, trying to figure out the cause of my faltered love life, I came up empty. My parents were happily married. I had a good relationship with my father. I’d never suffered a traumatic experience.
So, then, why did I keep attracting the wrong people into my life? Was it just a case of bad luck?
When all else fails, make a list.
I slammed the book shut, grabbed a notebook and pen, and began to jot down a list of every man I’d ever slept with. Only this time, instead of a to-do list, it was an already-did list.
Been There, Done That – The List: by Justine Sterling
Tommy Boyd – High-school bad boy. Now known as inmate Boyd.
Dan Pearson – Sophomore-year one-night-stand. Weirdly obsessed with feet.
Alex Walker – First love slash jealous lunatic.
Sam McCormick – AKA “the minuteman.”
Rob Palermo – Italian. Adorable. Couldn’t be faithful to save his life.
Ben Jameson – Booty call turned boyfriend. Didn’t think that could happen.
Ace – Miami fling. Didn’t know his real name. Didn’t care.
Mark Wheeler – Great boyfriend. Total bore. Favorite pastimes: romantic comedies, missionary position. Yawn.
Matt Romero – First rebound sex. Sucked.
Jesse Minolt –First college fling. Small.
Chris Lena – Really sweet. Really polite. Really should’ve told me he had three children before we slept together.
Brad Chapelle – Cancun fling involving a lot of Tequila and a tire swing.
Johnny Queen – Lead singer in a band. Never again.
David Whitman – Liar. Cheater. Soul thief.
And there they were, the fourteen men under scrutiny. I scoured the entire list, looking for some sort of explanation or common denominator. Had I always had bad taste in men? When did it start? Had I been attracting the wrong type of guy all along?
If they were all David Whitman replicas – unfaithful, dishonest, manipulative – then, yes, I would have a serious problem. But even though some of them may have had jealousy issues, or commitment issues, or lacked in the bedroom department, most of them were actually pretty decent guys.
Confession: I’ve never slept with a man that I didn’t love in some way.
It was true. I’d even kept in touch with my Cancun fling. I wasn’t exactly a vision of monogamy, but my heart was usually in the right place.
After a bit more analysis, I put the list away and resumed my place in the book. My past was, for the most part, fine. Sure, I had some things I had to work on, but so did everyone. I didn’t need a therapist to tell me that.
“This is going to be so much fun!”
Renee’s house-hunting expedition: day two.
I frowned at her. “How do I always get conned into these things? Shouldn’t Dylan be here?”
“Well considering Dylan isn’t Walter’s biggest fan, I think he wants to minimize their time together. I’m lucky he even agreed to keep Walter as our agent.” Her eyebrows creased into a straight line. “And since when do I have to con you into hanging out with a gorgeous guy?”
“Okay, a) I am in no position to be dating right now, and b) he has a girlfriend.”
“Whatever.” She shooed me with her hand. “Most relationships don’t last anyway.”
“Says the girl who’s getting married,” I retorted. “Do you think you guys will have a problem getting a mortgage approval? Since you’re both self-employed?”
“It isn’t ideal, but you wouldn’t believe how much money Dylan saved when he was working in construction.”
“I would think if he’s using his life savings on a house, he’d want to be here.”
“He will be. I’m just going to look at the ones I liked online and narrow it down to a few. Then we’ll look at those together and agree on one.”
It seemed sad to me, that Renee was house-hunting with me instead of her fiancé. But then I realized that was how their relationship worked. Renee was too independent to be with a needy guy that did everything with her. And musicians weren’t exactly the most available people, so they couldn’t have a needy partner either. It worked for her, but I’d never want it for myself. I liked having a counterpart.
“Walter should be here any minute,” Renee said, looking at her watch.
The first stop of the day was a colonial house in Medford. The plan was to start north of the city and work our way south. Renee had researched dozens of houses within a fifteen-mile radius of Quincy and narrowed it down to three for today’s hunt.
I gazed up at the house, which looked like what they referred to in Californi
a as a “tall skinny.” It had two floors and a very narrow shape, but not much of a yard. I tried to picture Renee and Dylan starting their lives here as a family, but the thought still seemed strange to me. Renee seemed too young to be mom.
I looked over just in time to see Walter’s black Audi pull up and park along the curb. As he stepped out of the car, I noticed he was dressed much more casually than the last time I’d seen him, in faded jeans and an army green button-up coat that brought out the gold in his eyes.
“Hey,” he greeted, making his way to the porch, where Renee and I were standing. “Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s okay,” Renee said. “We haven’t been waiting long.”
Walter unlocked the front door and led us inside, giving us a full tour of the house. I was immediately drawn to the living room’s built-in bookshelves and brick fireplace, but the room itself was a bit on the smaller side. The kitchen made up for it, though; an enormous open space with granite countertops, stainless-steel appliances, a bar, and a bright, open dining room attached.
All three bedrooms were upstairs, and I loved the way the cathedral ceilings dipped down and gave them a loft-type feel. I studied Renee’s face, trying to gauge her reaction and see if it matched mine.
“So what do you think?” Walter asked, before leading us back downstairs.
“I like it,” Renee said, with a nod of approval. “The kitchen’s my favorite.”
“Yeah, they remodeled the whole place recently,” he said. “You can tell everything’s new.”
“I just wish it had more of a yard,” she admitted, frowning. “And that the location was a little closer.”
“Medford’s not too far,” I said.
“Don’t you Bostonians pronounce it med-fid?” Walter joked.
I smiled shyly. “I think I lost the accent when I lived in California.”
“Careful,” he said, grinning. “If you stick around too long, you might pick it back up.” He looked at Renee. “Well, the other two places are closer to you, right?”
Renee nodded. “South Boston and Quincy. Dylan and I want to stay a little closer south since our families are there, but I really liked this house too. It’s a great price, and the size is perfect.”
“Well, let’s go check out the other two and see what you think,” Walter proposed. “And if you want, we can grab some lunch afterward.”
Renee snuck me a glance, wiggling her eyebrows. I stifled a laugh.
“I think that sounds great,” Renee agreed.
The second house on our destination list was a light-blue, two-story in south Boston. It had a wraparound covered porch, a bright-red door, and yellow flowers lining the front yard. I loved it before we even stepped inside.
As soon as Walter opened the door, I was surrounded by bright, luminous rays of light. Large picture windows and sparkling hardwood floors welcomed us from all directions. The entrance hallway contained an old wooden staircase and French double doors that led to the living room.
The kitchen wasn’t as modern or spacious as the house in Medford, but still a decent size and condition. The bedrooms were all equipped with high ceilings and equally as bright as the living room, with oversized windows lining each wall.
The second floor housed a back staircase that led to an enormous, fenced-in backyard and another small back patio. I could see Renee and Dylan hosting cookouts here, Dylan strumming his acoustic guitar on the porch, Renee setting up an outside bar to serve drinks. It definitely had potential.
“So…” Walter began, looking at Renee expectantly.
I didn’t even have to guess. The look on Renee’s face gave it away completely.
“I love it,” she said, clasping her hands together. “It’s very urban but has lots of classic charm to it. Artsy yet modern.”
“Agreed,” I said. “And you could have some kick-ass barbecues in this yard.”
“That’s what I was thinking!” Renee exclaimed.
“Alright then,” Walter said, clearly happy that Renee had an ideal prospect. “Two down, one to go.” He looked from Renee to me. “Do you want to take my car and we can stop for lunch after?”
“Sure,” we agreed in unison.
And with that, we were off to destination number three.
The house in Quincy proved to be very similar to the south Boston house, only a less-appealing version. For one, Renee was not too keen on the wall coloring, seeing as though every room was a different color. The living room was painted canary yellow, the kitchen pale pink, the bedrooms fluorescent green and orange. You’d think the previous owners were colorblind.
Despite the similarities between both houses – light-blue exterior, two floors, fireplace, large backyard – the biggest deal-breaker was the kitchen. The wooden cabinets were outdated, and the floors matched the ugly brick tile on the walls. All in all, it seemed like more work than Renee was willing to put in.
Once the house-hunting was complete, Walter took us to lunch at a diner in Harvard Square that was best known for their burgers and beer garden. The ambiance was that of a true diner – black-and-white checkered floors, red-leather booths, old records prominently displayed on the walls.
“Justine, why don’t you sit next to Walter?” Renee smirked, clutching her stomach. “You know, since I need all the room I can get.”
I rolled my eyes behind Water’s back. The girl who thought I had bad taste in men, trying to hook me up with a guy who had a girlfriend.
After relaying our orders to the waitress – veggie wrap for me, grilled cheese for Renee, burger with waffle fries for Walter – Renee and Walter launched into a real-estate debate.
“So, ideally, if you could pick anywhere, where would be your number-one place to buy a house?” Walter asked.
“It would be great to live in the Allston/Brighton area, since that’s where most of the venues are that Dylan plays,” Renee said. “But there are no affordable houses there. Since our families are on the south shore and Dylan works in the city, Quincy and south Boston are ideal because they’re sort of a halfway point.”
“Speaking of Southie,” Walter said, looking at me. “I think that apartment you liked might be taken. Someone put a deposit on it last week.”
“That’s okay, Justine’s moving back to California anyway,” Renee sang, sticking out her tongue at me.
“Really?” Walter raised his eyebrows.
“I never said I was moving back,” I argued. “But I did get a job offer that I’m considering.”
“Relocation isn’t an easy decision,” Walter sympathized. “My father wants me to move to Boston to oversee the new office, but my girlfriend doesn’t want to move here.”
“And how is your girlfriend?” Renee asked in an obviously loud voice, putting extra emphasis on the word “girlfriend.” It was a miracle she never took up acting in LA.
“She’s doing well,” Walter answered, completely oblivious to Renee’s obnoxiousness. “But the traveling does put a strain on our relationship sometimes.”
“Told you,” Renee mouthed when he wasn’t looking.
“Well, she should really be more supportive of your career,” she quipped. I almost choked on my water.
Just then, our waitress arrived at the table with our lunches, setting the plates down in front of us. “Do you need anything else?” she asked.
“Just some ketchup for the fries would be great,” Walter said. “Do you girls need anything?”
It was at that moment, as Renee and I both shook our heads, that I noticed how truly thoughtful Walter was. Every time our waitress checked on us, he would make sure that both Renee and I were content before sending her away. Every time she bought a condiment to the table, Walter acted like she’d given him a million dollars. Even with looks like his, he had zero sense of entitlement; he lived in a constant state of appreciation. It gave me hope, just knowing that someone like him existed. There were plenty of good guys like Walter out there. And the sooner I stopped sulking, the sooner I’d find
one of my own.
Chapter 22
As luck would have it, we still managed to surprise Renee on the day of her shower. Dylan had told her it was going to be the following weekend at his mother’s house, so she was completely caught off guard when she walked into her own parents’ house and found 50 of her closest friends and family members waiting for her, surrounded by an assortment of baby-music memorabilia.
I’ll admit, I was nervous of seeing Beth, since this was our first face-to-face encounter since the night at Renee’s house. The two of us had pretty much avoided each other all morning, as we each went about our business of setting up and making sure that everything was in place before Renee arrived.
After the big surprise, everyone gathered around the kitchen table, snacking on appetizers and mixing cocktails, until it was time for Renee to open the presents.
Before following everyone into the living room, I wandered over to the bar to mix myself a mimosa. When I turned back around, Beth was standing there. Our eyes caught for a moment, both of us silent, until she flashed me an apologetic smile.
“Hey,” she said, holding up her glass. “Mind topping me off?”
“Sure.” I lifted the bottle, filling her champagne flute to the top.
She set the glass down on the counter and turned to face me. “Listen, I’m sorry about the other night,” she said. “Sometimes I say things when I’m trying to be helpful, but it usually comes out the wrong way.”
“I know,” I said. Beth had always been that way. She liked to offer constructive criticism, but there was a fine line between being diplomatic and being rude that she hadn’t quite mastered yet. “But you were right. I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I do have some things I need to work on.” I sighed. “Basically, what it comes down to is just believing that I deserve better than what I accept.”
Beth raised her eyebrows, impressed. “That’s definitely a better way of phrasing it, huh?”
As if on cue, Andy walked into the room clutching a beer in his left hand. He sauntered over to us, sliding his right arm around my waist.
Love Bites Page 16
