Chapter 19
Lauren
“Girl, you look hot,”Arabella squeals through the screen of my phone. “I can’t believe the jerk stood you up. Who the hell does that kind of crapanymore?”
My bottom lip sticks out in a pout. “I thought Simon was perfect.” I dab my eyes with atissue.
Wasis the operative word. There is no coming back from this. Unless he was in some sort of an accident—which I secretly hope is thecase.
“Honey, no”—she waves her finger at me—“you better save those tears for someone who matters.Hedoesn’tmatter.”
A snort-y sniff escapes me. “Maybe he got into an accident? Or maybe he’s holed up in his apartment, injured, and can’t even make it out thedoor?”
Arabella stares and blinks about twenty-two times. “Uh, no. You forget about him.Jaxson Maloneis about to take you out. And”—she fans her face—“he’s thehimfrom the airport.” She squeals, her voice raised about five octaves. Like Mariah Carey back in the day. “What can be more serendipitous than that?Seriously. ”
I still haven’t wrapped my head around that whole thing. I mean, when Jaxson took off his shades, revealing those dreamy dark brown eyes, I swear toGod, my mind, body, and soul went on auto-possum-pilot—I froze. Didn’t even as much as bat an eyelash. There was no freakin’ way he was going to know I just about lost my mind that day at theairport.
And he neverwill.
“It may be serendipitous”—I roll my eyes—“but that doesn’t mean he’s the one. I still think Simon has a good reason for…disappearing. He sent me a dozen teddy bears, Arabella. Does that sound like a man who stands a womanup?”
Her pink lipstick-covered lips flatten before she says, “Apparentlyso.”
“Well, I just wanted to fill you in on what’s what before you head out to work. I’ll FaceTime you when I wake up,” I say, blowing a kiss into thescreen.
“Bye, bye love. And have fun tonight. I’ve seen that Jaxson Malone guy on TV and on the cover of magazines. He’s super delish. And an almost bad-boy.”
After ending my call with Arabella, I look at my reflection in the floor-length mirror behind my bedroom door. I’m wearing a long-sleeve maxi dress with a subtle plunging neckline along with strappy heels. Funny, the color I chose to wear is black. Totally appropriate since I’m mourning the act of being stood up. I might as well wear a black coattoo.
“Mama will be back later, sweet boy.” I kneel down to kiss Truffles who is pretending to be asleep. The brat opens one eye and wags histail.
When I open my door, I instinctively look across to 11B and glare, wishing I was a Marvel hero with laser-beameyes.
Simon’sdoor.
Should I knock? Place my ear against the door, listen for signs of life? Huff, puff, blow the fucking door down? Excuse my language. Lord knows I try not to cuss, thatmuch.
How could he stand me up? Was last night’s date a farce? And what about the teddybears?
I sigh when last night flashes before my eyes. He even kissed me. Ugh. Enough of pondering over SimonGrant.
Done. Over.Out.
I button my black coat, tuck my black handbag under my arm, and look up at the numbered digital display as the elevator descends to thelobby.
Five. Four. Three. Two. One.Ding.
