by Joy Argento
Exes and O’s
Synopsis
Ali Daniels is a successful writer. Too bad she can’t say the same for her love life. After yet another failed relationship, she decides it’s time to dig deep and find out what she’s doing wrong. Contacting her exes with a questionnaire seems like a piece of cake, until she gets to her high school sweetheart and the girl who shattered her heart, Madison Parker.
Madison has made a neat little life for herself in her small hometown, whose only claim to fame is being an hour from the beach. She’s content running the donut shop her father left her and hanging with her sister and niece. The last thing she expects is for Ali to drop back into her life. After the way Ali left town twenty years ago without so much as an explanation, Madison really shouldn’t be feeling any sort of attraction, but she can’t seem to help herself.
After all this time, Ali and Madison really only have one thing in common. The girl who broke their heart may be the only one who can put it back together.
What Reviewers Say About Joy Argento’s Work
Before Now
“Before Now by Joy Argento is a mixture of modern day romance and historical fiction. …There was some welcome humour and a bit of angst. An interesting story well told.”—Kitty Kat’s Book Review Blog
Emily’s Art and Soul
“…the leads are well rounded and credible. As a ‘friends to lovers’ romance the author skillfully transforms their budding friendship to an increasing intimacy. Mindy, Emily’s Down syndrome sister, is a great secondary character, very realistic in her traits and interactions with other people. Her fresh outlook on life and her ‘best friend’ declarations help to keep the upbeat tone.”—LezReviewBooks
“This was such a sweet book. Great story that would be perfect as a holiday read. The plot was fun and the pace really good. The protagonists were enjoyable and Emily’s character was well fleshed out. …This is the first book I’ve read by Joy Argento and it won’t be the last. I’m looking forward to what comes next.”—Rainbow Literary Society
Exes and O’s
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By the Author
Emily’s Art and Soul
Before Now
No Regrets
Carrie and Hope
Exes and O’s
Exes and O’s
© 2022 By Joy Argento. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-63679-018-3
This Electronic Original Is Published By
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: January 2022
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Cindy Cresap
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design by Tammy Seidick and Joy Argento
eBook Design by Toni Whitaker
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to my editor, Cindy Cresap, for all your help. I have learned so much from you.
Thanks to Sandy and all the great people at Bold Strokes books. I am so happy to be part of this family.
Thanks to anyone who took a chance on me and bought this or any of my books. I appreciate you more than you will ever know. Read on!
As always thank you to my family, my kids, grandkids, and siblings for your support and love.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Lea Caruso.
I will miss you forever.
Chapter One
Oh,” Ali Daniels said to Charley, her best friend since freshman year in college. “Oh, yeah. That’s a great idea.” But did she really have the nerve to track down her exes, interview them, and ask them what she had done wrong in their relationships? You bet she did. At least in that moment she thought so. Of course, the three drinks she’d just had may have played a part in her confidence. Tequila was known to do that.
“What’s the plan? How are you going to do this?” Charley asked.
“Well, the main objective is to find out why the relationship didn’t last. Right? Seems like everyone breaks up with me. I’m not the one to do the leaving,” Ali said. That had been the case with her most recent breakup. She and April had only been together for three months when April announced that they were through. Ali thought it had been going well—well enough, anyway. Nothing was perfect. She chose to overlook their differences. Apparently, April wasn’t so willing to do the same.
“Let’s make a list of all your ex-girlfriends. It shouldn’t be too hard to track them down on the internet. Then we’ll make a list of the questions you should ask them.” Charley ran a hand over his long hair. His latest dye job turned the strands a rich shade of purple, with hot pink highlights. Ali thought Charley’s constant hair color change was a bit immature for his age. She would have thought he would have stopped that by the time he turned thirty-eight. At the same time she envied the fact that Charley had enough self-confidence to do it. Charley often referred to himself as a triple bypass. Biracial. Bisexual. Binary. He felt both male and female at different times, sometimes both at the same time—his definition. He would have added bipartisan, but he leaned too far to the Left for that.
Ali often felt more comfortable blending into the woodwork than standing out. Maybe that’s why she decided to be a writer. She could hide behind her computer to write and still have fame and fortune. Sometimes her name was recognized, but never her face. Her choice to leave her picture off the back of her books had been a good one. Ali was one of the lucky ones. When her third novel hit the New York Times best seller list, she was able to quit her job as a proofreader and focus on her writing, earning enough money to live comfortably.
“Where can I find a pad of paper and a pen?” Charley set his half-finished drink on the coffee table.
“My desk in the office. Top drawer.” Ali sat on the floor, cross-legged with her back propped up against her secondhand couch. It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford a new one. She could afford several if she wanted them. But this one still looked nice and was uber comfortable, so why bother replacing what was working. That might be a metaphor for her relationships, she realized. If nothing major was wrong, why throw it away?
Her apartment sported three bedrooms, one for sleeping, one for guests—mostly Charley when he had too much to drink, and occasionally her parents—and one for an office. That’s were Ali did most of her writing.
“Got it.” Charley waved the pad in the air like he had won a prize. He handed it to Ali. “Start with your most recent breakup and work your way backward.”
Ali shook her head. Doubts crept in. Did she really want to face April and her other exes, even if it was only in writing? Charley grabbed Ali’s glass and made her another drink. Two sips of the fresh margarita, and Ali began to write. She ended up with seven names.
Charley took the list and looked it over. “Um, you seem to be missing one.”
Ali took a large sip of her drink, running her tongue along the edge of the glass to get more of the salt. “Who?”
“Your high school
girl friend? What was her name again? Maggie? Marley? M something.” Charley handed the paper back to Ali.
Ali shook her head. “No. I don’t need to include her. I know what went wrong there.”
“I’m thinking nooo.” Charley stretched the word out like it had more than one syllable. “You definitely need to include her. After all, hindsight is fifty-fifty.”
“I thought hindsight was twenty-twenty?”
“Not in this case, honey. This information is worth way more than twenty.” He waved his fuck me red polished fingernails at the paper in Ali’s hand. “Write down what’s-her-name—the high school chick.”
The last thing Ali wanted was to contact Madison Parker again. The girl pretty enough to be a model, with the name that matched, head cheerleader and all, was in her past, and Ali wanted to keep it that way. She had thought about her through the years, of course. Wondered where she was and what she was doing. Was she happy? Had she left that small town in Maryland like Ali had? College had changed things for Ali. She decided to stay in Central New York after attending Syracuse University. Syracuse wasn’t a huge city, but it sure was bigger than Clyde, Maryland, whose only claim to fame was being an hour from the beach. That and the fact that the Clyde High School football team won the state championship three years in a row. “Why?” Ali asked.
“Child, I know how important she was to you. You’ve talked about her enough times.” Had she? She probably did without even realizing she was doing it.
Madison Parker. The girl who broke Ali’s heart twenty years ago. She should have been long forgotten, but for some reason she still took up space in Ali’s head and sometimes even managed to ping Ali’s heart. “I know why that didn’t work.”
“So? Have you talked to her about it?”
Talk to her about it? No. No need for that. Her own eyes had told her everything she needed to know. She shook her head without explaining.
“Ali, add her to the list.” It was more of a demand than a suggestion.
Ali knew it was no use arguing with Charley. “Whatever. Fine,” she said.
“We need a list of questions. Any idea what you want to ask your exes?”
“I would like to know why they were stupid enough to break up with me?”
Charley laughed. “That might not be the best opening question.” He grabbed the pad of paper, turned it over, and made a list.
Did you ever love me?
At any point, did you see yourself spending forever with me?
If yes, what changed?
Did I ever do anything that made you jealous?
What’s your biggest regret about our relationship?
What’s the worst thing you think I did?
What did you think of my friends?
What’s your favorite memory of us being together?
What was your favorite thing about me?
What was your least favorite thing about me?
Did we have a good sex life?
What should I have done differently?
Do you wish we could have worked it out?
If you could tell me anything, what would you say?
Do you ever wish we were still together?
He handed the list to Ali. Ali crossed off three of the questions. “I really don’t want to know what any of them thought of my friends—aka you.”
“Hey.”
Ali smirked. “Don’t worry. I know they all loved you. Well, at least the ones that met you. Some of these relationships were pretty short. What do you think would qualify as a relationship? More than three dates? More than a month?”
“I think anyone you were exclusive with as long as you slept with them. What other questions did you cross off?”
Ali read off the paper. “What’s your favorite memory of us being together and what was your favorite thing about me. Those sound like I’m fishing for compliments.”
Charley finished his drink. “I think you should leave those in. You want to know the stuff they liked as well as the stuff they didn’t. How else are you going to learn what you were doing right?”
“Maybe you’ve got a point.” Ali looked at the list of names again and crossed off a couple. “I don’t think these two qualify as relationships under your definition.”
“Let’s go on Facebook and see who we can find. I want you to message them before you sober up and change your mind.”
Ali laughed. “So, you want me to drunk-message them? That might not be the best idea.”
“Yes, it’s fine,” Charley said. “We have the list of questions. You can come up with an opening explanation for why you want to know. If we stick to the script, you’ll be fine. You are a writer after all. You’ll think of something.”
He stood, pulled Ali to her feet, and led the way to Ali’s office and her computer. It was a modest room as far as workspaces went. A desk with a hutch sat against one wall, complete with a comfortable, well-worn office chair. There was a fairly new recliner in the corner that Ali occasionally used, Macbook on her lap, when she wrote. A small bookcase rounded out the sparse furnishings. A thesaurus and several reference books littered the shelves. Ali rarely used them, preferring the internet for her research.
It took Ali several minutes to write what she thought was a good opening explanation for the questions. They were able to find four of the five women on the list on Facebook. The only one they couldn’t find was Madison. A Google search listed her as the owner of a business called O’s in their hometown of Clyde.
“Guess she didn’t stray too far from home,” Ali said. And why should she? She seemed to have found what she wanted there. The memory, seared into Ali’s memory, had left a large burn hole in her heart.
“What’s O’s? A sex shop specializing in orgasms?”
Ali spit out a mouthful of her drink trying to control her laughter. “Not likely. Not in that dead little town.”
“Well, whatever it is, there’s an address. Let’s see what you came up with for an opening statement.”
“You make it sound like we’re going to court.”
“That makes sense. In a way you are on trial here.”
Ali moved aside so Charley could see the computer.
Hi,
I know we haven’t spoken in a while. I hope you are doing well. I am working on self-improvement, trying to become a better person and thus a better partner in a relationship. I’m hoping you can help me out by answering some questions for me. I would really appreciate it. Yours truly,
Ali (your ex)
[email protected]
“Perfect. Now send a copy to each one.”
Ali hesitated. Drunk or not, this probably wasn’t a good idea. She should just give up trying to find a lasting relationship altogether. They never ended well, and she always ended up alone. It would probably be better just to stay that way.
“Do it. Private message them. I really think it will help, honey. I want you to be able to find happiness.”
“I’m not going to find happiness with someone else if I can’t find it in me.”
“I know that. I’m glad you know it. But if you learn more about yourself, then maybe you can figure out the happiness part.”
“You really think this will help?”
“Honey, I really do.”
“I hope you’re right.” Ali did as she was told, cringing each time she hit send.
“Now for Madison Parker. Print out a copy. We have no choice but to mail it,” Charley told her.
“But I know—”
“Just do it. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“So, you’re a psychic now?”
“Always have been, darling.” Charley grabbed the sheet of paper as soon as it was done printing. “Envelopes?”
Ali didn’t answer. Charley opened two desk drawers before finding them. He i
nserted the printed sheet, addressed the envelope to Madison at O’s, found stamps in the same drawer, and headed out of the office with it.
“Hey,” Ali sputtered.
“I’m going to drop this in the outgoing letter box before you have a chance to change your mind.” He disappeared out the door. She could hear the apartment door open and close and open again moments later. Charley reappeared. “Done.”
The computer let out a ding indicating there was a new Facebook message. It was from April.
“Wow. That was fast. What does it say?” Charley asked, even though he was already reading it over her shoulder.
Seriously, Ali, if you have questions like this then you have issues. I told you everything I thought about you when we broke up. Move the fuck on.
“Huh. That’s not helpful,” Ali said. “Or nice.”
“What did she say when she broke up with you? Anything useful for your next relationship?”
Ali thought for a moment. “She said she’d had about enough of me and my crazy ways when I wouldn’t let her kill a spider in her apartment. I used the teacup she’d inherited from her grandmother to capture it and take it outside. It wasn’t like I broke the cup or anything.”
“That’s not worth breaking up over. Did she say anything else?”
Ali shook her head. She was having trouble remembering any conversations they had had. Seemed like sex was their main event.
“What did you see in that girl anyway? I thought she was kind of a bitch?”
Again, Ali was at a loss. What had she seen in April? April was a strong personality. She dominated the relationship, and everything had to be her way. The one time Ali had gone against her wishes she was sent packing. Maybe bitch was the right word for her. “Damned if I know.”
