by Niecey Roy
“She has been eating carbs and suffering from anxiety attacks,” Roxanna continued. “And she’s also been lusting after my cousin.” I opened my mouth to object, but she said, “She denies her interest, but something is going on, and I am going to find out what.” She stopped pacing to stand directly in front of me and pinned me with her calculating stare. “My cousin who, I would like everyone to know, took her virginity and broke her heart and still hasn’t explained why.” Then to clarify, she added, “Why he broke her heart, not why he took her virginity.”
Blushing, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I honestly don’t think Richard needed to hear the last part, but thank you for spilling all of my secrets, you brat.”
Gen knocked her knee against mine. “Really. I agree with Roxi. Something’s going on with you and Leo. You should tell us what.”
I blushed. “Nothing is going on with me and Leo. Now let’s get on with this weird meeting.”
“We all need to be on the same page if we’re going to fix your life,” Roxanna said.
“My life is just fine,” I lied.
“No, it’s not,” Gen and Roxanna replied in unison.
Okay, so things weren’t exactly perfect for me right now, and professionally my boutique swirled down a big, fat, stinky drain, but that didn’t mean I cared to be the object of Roxanna’s boredom. And she was—bored, that is. She needed a boyfriend, or a new hobby, anything.
“Now that we’ve established Lexie’s life is a mess, we can move on to how we can fix it.” Roxanna resumed pacing. “And we have our work cut out for us. First things first—”
“Hold on, you’re talking too fast,” Richard said, scribbling on the notepad. He’d written LIFE IS A MESS and CARBS, circling the last word. At least he hadn’t taken down the virginity part.
“I don’t think you need to write all of that down,” I told him.
“Yes, he does,” Roxanna said.
I rolled my eyes. “You are so weird.”
Roxanna paced, tapping the air with a long stick ruler clutched in one hand. I had no idea when she’d acquired it, but something told me she’d gone shopping just for this meeting. I’d never seen the big board and the chrome stand in her house before tonight.
“We’re all concerned Lexie’s gone bat-shit crazy.” I opened my mouth, but Roxanna silenced me with a pointed stare. “And none of us blame her. She’s been dealt some really bad luck, what with her runaway bride video going viral.”
“Yeah, the video.” Richard scribbled in the notepad. He nodded at me. “You’re, like, famous. Over two-hundred and seventy thousand hits.”
“She looked really great in that dress,” Roxanna said, hands on hips.
“Well, she’d better. The damn thing cost more than my car. It’s too bad she can’t sell it to pay her bills,” Gen added. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I bet with your newfound fame—”
“It’s not a good fame,” I reminded her.
“—you could get a boatload of money for it.”
“If she doesn’t get a large influx of cash soon, she’ll be bankrupt,” Roxanna added.
I took a deep breath and pinched my eyelids together, pressing my fingertips against my pounding temples. “Thank you guys, but I’m intimately familiar with all of this. Can we just move on to what this is all about?”
“Yes, let’s.” Roxanna whirled and grabbed a corner of the sheet, whipping it off the board. The board and stand came crashing down, and she jumped back. “Shit!” she said, and bent to pick it up. “Richard, a little help, please?”
“Oh!” He jumped up to help her pick up the board while she righted the stand.
“I knew I should have done a PowerPoint, but those projectors are so expensive.” Roxanna and Richard righted the board, and my eyes were glued to the photographs pinned to it.
My photo was tacked to the center of the board, blown up to an eight-by-ten. I didn’t know where she’d gotten it, but it was of me with my wedding gown hiked up in mid-bolt on my way out of the church. It wasn’t a flattering photo either, with my face scrunched up as if I were three seconds from throwing up. Those memories wouldn’t fade away any time soon, especially not with images like this floating around.
Up in the right hand corner was a photo of Deborah, bundled up in a pristine white belted jacket. She was downtown somewhere. The photo looked like it had been taken from the front seat of a car. I glanced from the photo to Roxanna, who stood back from the board, her arms crossed as she scrutinized her handiwork.
“Rox, where’d you get that photo of Deborah?” I asked, though I was certain I already knew the answer.
Roxanna had a really great camera, one of those fancy professional ones. Lately, Roxanna had been talking about getting into the more hands-on physical side of the Moss private investigation services. I wondered if this was some kind of test run.
“That’s not important,” Roxanna said, and I exchanged a nervous glance with Gen.
In the left hand corner of the board was a photo of Jeremy, taken of him standing at the altar, looking less like the prince charming I’d thought he was and more like the spineless toad he’d proven to be.
Down below were three photos—Gen, Roxanna, and Richard. Gen’s picture was of her sitting in front of a canvas, a paint brush in her hand, looking startled. In Roxanna’s photo, she held a martini near her smiling lips, her brows raised at the person taking the photo. Richard’s photo was copied from Bradshaw Insurance’s company website, glasses pushed high on his nose, his brown hair in a tuft of tight curls trimmed close to his head. There were pins tacked into the photos, red string wrapped around each pin, weaving to join each picture to the focal point of the board—me.
“Well, if that isn’t overly dramatic, I don’t know what is,” Gen breathed.
“I worry about you,” I told Roxanna, my gaze darting between the photographs. “You should start writing again. Remember a couple of months ago when you told Leo you were going to need flexible hours so you could free up some hours to write?”
“This is not my intervention,” Roxanna said, then pointed at Richard. “Sit down, Richard.”
He retrieved the notepad and pen off the floor and sat. Roxanna picked up the ruler and slapped it to my picture. “As you can see, this is where things went wrong. Lexie should never have walked down the aisle in the first place.”
“I agree.” Gen shrugged at my scowl. “What? It’s true.”
“Jeremy is a major mama’s boy loser.” Roxanna slapped the ruler at Jeremy’s photo, and it landed smack dab in the center of his forehead. “And this woman is the devil.” She slapped Deborah’s photo between the eyes. “And we,” she slapped each of their pictures at the bottom of the board, “are going to save Lexie before she winds up in the loony bin and bankrupt.”
Gen burst out laughing. “If you were normal, I wouldn’t love you so much.”
Roxanna looked exasperated. “This is serious. Pay attention.”
“Sheesh. Okay.” Gen crossed her arms over her chest and snapped her mouth shut.
“I’ve been thinking about all of this really hard.” Roxanna paced, her brows drawn together in concentration. “What we have here is a gross display of power, and,” she stopped to slap Deborah’s photo again, “this woman’s obsession.”
“Obsession,” Richard mumbled, circling the word.
“What we need to do is attack the weak link.” Roxanna slapped Jeremy’s photo. “And I think we can all agree that Jeremy is the weak link on this board.”
She wouldn’t get any argument from me.
“And what is your suggestion?” I asked.
Roxanna placed her hands on her hips and jutted out her chin. “We separate him from the evil bitch and kick his ass.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. My jaw hung wide open, and Gen shook her head. Richard’s face resembled someone who’d just taken a shot of cheap tequila without salt or lime.
And then Roxanna burst out laughing. “Oh my God, you sh
ould see your faces!” She bent to brace her knees and sputtered laughter. “We’re not criminals.”
“Very funny, you asshole.” Gen stalked over to Roxanna and snatched the ruler from her, then faced me and Richard. “I agree with Roxanna, we should approach Jeremy. Tell him he needs to ask his mom to back off.”
Maybe…
Could it be so simple? I hadn’t spoken to Jeremy since our wedding day. There’d been a couple of times I’d almost answered his phone calls, but I couldn’t bring myself to listen to his excuses. He’d even sent me a bouquet of flowers for Christmas. I threw them in the trash. His card hadn’t said, “I’m sorry.” His card had said, “I wish you would call me back.” After awhile, he’d stopped calling.
It wasn’t as if he could control Deborah, but maybe he could talk some sense into her. I was angry with him, true. He’d broken my heart, true. The thought of talking to him after what had happened between us made me want to vomit, true. But if doing so would end this feud between me and his psycho mom, it was worth a shot.
Maybe he could get her to retract all of her statements. Live. On television.
What if Deborah spoke to the bank and assured them my boutique was a good investment? My entire body was taut with hopeful excitement—I could barely sit still. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Good, because at this point I don’t think you have a choice.” Roxanna crouched in front of me and looked up into my face. “I know you don’t want to see him again, and I hate that you have to, but I just don’t see any other option.” She frowned. “We have to try.”
I smiled and drew her in for a hug. “I love you, even if you’re weird.”
“Are you sure, Lex?” Gen asked, and I nodded.
“I should probably talk to him soon.” Glancing over at Richard taking more notes, I wondered what his role in all of this was. The last time Gen had enlisted him for help, we had almost put the kibosh on an ongoing police investigation, which could have ended very badly for all involved. I thought it necessary to add, “There will be no high speed chases.”
“I’m a good driver,” Richard said, but he wrote down NO HIGH SPEED CHASES on his tablet, anyway.
“Which is why you were invited. Just in case.” Roxanna stood.
“Why would there be a ‘just in case’?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “I’m just meeting him to talk.”
She shrugged, adjusting her sweater dress. “I ordered Japanese takeout so we can talk specifics.
“Oh good, I’m starving,” Gen said.
“I’m sure you’ll be happy to know the delivery guy is Leo.” Roxanna peered at me, as if looking for clues to validate her suspicion.
“Roxanna Leigh, when there is something serious to report about me and your cousin, I will definitely let you know.” I pushed her toward the door. “I am not getting emotionally involved with anyone right now. Okay?”
“Hm,” she huffed, glancing at me over her shoulder as she walked out of the room and into the hall. “Gen and I have a bet going. We’re not going to tell you what’s at stake, but if I lose, you will owe me. I don’t know what, but something good.”
When I looked to Gen, she put her hands up and shook her head. “The bet was Roxi’s idea, and I didn’t exactly agree to it. You know how she gets.”
She had a good point.
Chapter Nineteen
As I dialed Jeremy’s number, I realized I no longer cared to hear why he hadn’t fought for us. On our wedding day, I’d wanted to know. But now, I had no interest in Jeremy’s excuses. I’d wasted enough time on him already. The pain had shifted to anger—red hot, mind-numbing anger. He’d made it easy for me to hate him and to resent having ever loved him at all.
Even though I would rather pluck my eyelashes out than see him again, my business was on the line, and a conversation with Jeremy was a means to an end. I would do anything to save my business. I needed the wealthy clients to walk through my door again, and the only way most of them would ever do so is if Deborah wasn’t walking around town, tarnishing my reputation to whoever would listen.
Against my better judgment, I’d applied for another credit card. The balance was just big enough to order the dresses I needed to wow at the bridal expo next month. So, this meeting with Jeremy needed to happen, and when it was over with, hopefully the Buchanans’ black imprint on my life would be washed away. Dust in the freakin’ wind.
While the phone rang, I tapped my nails on the counter. When he answered, I was determined to make this be the change Once Upon A Dream needed.
“Jeremy, this is Lexie.”
“Lexie?” His voice registered disbelief. “Is that…you?”
“Yes.”
“Lexie, it’s so good to hear your voice.”
I hadn’t expected to hear him sound so relieved, and it caught me off guard.
“Yeah. Hi. I’m calling because—”
“Did you get my flowers? The ones I sent over Christmas?”
“Yes, I did. But that’s not why I’m calling.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I said in a rush, “Can you meet me for dinner?”
“What?” he asked.
“Can you meet me for dinner?” I repeated. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes, yeah. That would be great! Of course. I can pick you up at seven. Is that…okay?”
The way he stumbled over his words should’ve made me feel better, but it didn’t. It only proved how off the wall this meeting was, and how terribly wrong things were the day our relationship ended.
“It’s probably best if I just meet you somewhere, Jeremy.” I thought of all the places we’d be less likely to run into Deborah or anyone who knew him and his family. “How about the American Legion?”
“The American Legion?” He sounded confused. Like he might not even know what an American Legion was, which wouldn’t surprise me. It wasn’t exactly the kind of place his family would dine. My dad met some of his veteran friends there for hamburgers on dollar pitcher night once a week to watch a sporting event on the big screen. The place smelled of fried bar food.
“Yes, the American Legion. It’s on Eagle Street.”
“Why don’t we have dinner at my place?” he suggested.
The thought of being alone with him after all these months made me queasy. No way. “I don’t think so. And I don’t want you telling your mom about this meeting. Okay?”
“Oh, no. I wouldn’t,” he said. “I mean, I don’t think it would be a good idea for her to know about us.”
“Jeremy, we’re just meeting to talk. That’s it.” I didn’t want there to be any confusion on his end. “There is no ‘us’ anymore.”
“Right, of course,” he was quick to say. “I mean, I have a girlfriend.”
I clenched my jaw. Yes, he had a girlfriend. His life was perfect. Everything peaches and cream. “Right. So, the Legion?”
“My parents are out of town—we should meet somewhere that serves a nice meal. Let me buy you a nice meal.”
“Jeremy, I—”
“Please, Lexie. It’s the least I can do. After everything.” He sounded sorry, at least. That was something.
“Well…”
“I’ll request a quiet table at Perfezione. It’s your favorite,” he said. It had been my favorite restaurant, which was why Jeremy had proposed to me there. Meeting him there now didn’t sound like a good idea, but the calamari was great.
But still. “I don’t know…”
My hesitance made him beg. “Please, Lexie. It’s just dinner. Like you said, it means nothing.”
He was right. Of course it was nothing. At least, that’s what I’d let him think until I brought up the real reason at dinner. This meeting was about righting wrongs and saving my reputation, my business.
“Okay, I will meet you there at seven, tomorrow night.” I hung up before I changed my mind, because Roxanna was right. Right now, I had no other choice. Saving my boutique was more important than how uncomfortable it might be to have dinner with my ex. I was an adult, doing what I n
eeded to do.
“For the love of God,” Michelle breathed from behind me. I glanced over at her, frozen in place, her wide-eyed gaze fixated on something outside the window. “Who is that?”
Standing out on the sidewalk was Leo with a phone to his ear. His suit fit as if it had been tailor made just for him. He didn’t wear a coat; I was certain he burned hotter than everyone else.
“That’s Leo,” I said.
“Leo who?” she asked.
But I didn’t answer because Leo opened the door and stepped inside. Michelle glanced over to me with question in her eyes, but I ignored her.
“Nice to see you standing up in here instead of lying in a pile of dresses,” Leo said.
“I think I’ll take this to the office,” Michelle mumbled. She turned around and headed for the back room.
“You scared my help away.” I narrowed my eyes at him, but only to put a stop to the silly grin that wanted to take over my lips. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“I was thinking about you.”
“You were thinking about me,” I repeated, and my thoughts turned X-rated.
The twitch of his lips told me he knew exactly where my mind had gone. “You have a dirty little mind, Princess.”
“I wasn’t thinking about sex at all,” I lied.
My dirty thoughts were his fault—the last thing he told me before leaving my bed was he couldn’t wait to taste me again. He knew exactly what he did to me.
He leaned against the counter, his green eyes studying my lips. “I didn’t mention sex, you did. Which means you were thinking about sex.”
Sex was definitely on my mind. Smiling, I adjusted a blue sash around the mannequin in front of me. “Well, then, if you’re not here to talk about sex, what’s the real reason?”
“I want to take you to dinner.”
