Page 32 of Dear Future Ex-wife


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I reach across the bar, my eyes fixed on her bright blue ones. “Are you done with your plate?”

Harley practically jumps off the stool. She seems uncomfortable, maybe even upset. Why did I tell her the truth? I thought it would help repair our relationship, and now, we’re back to super weirdness. I hope it’s not like this all the way up until our wedding day.

One day down, twenty-nine more to go.

Chapter Twelve

Harley

All morning Nate’s confession rattled around in my head. He thought about kissing me in the past. The feeling was mutual back then, though I wasn’t about to tell him that. His words shocked me, stunned me into silence. He wanted a reaction from me, but I wasn’t about to feed his ego. This situation is already weird enough.

And now, I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if we had acted on our feelings years ago. Would we be getting married for real? Could all of the scandals and this sham wedding have been avoided? A part of me wants to believe that Nate was telling the truth, but there’s also a part that tells me not to trust him.

Nate likes to play games.

He enjoys toying with people.

Once the elevator doors open, and I’m outside the building, I feel like I can catch my breath. Being this close to Nate is affecting me in ways I hadn’t expected. At the office and at home, he’s only one door away from me, always within reach.

I managed to sneak out of the office while Nate was in the men’s room. He would have insisted he join me for lunch with my friends if he’d known I was meeting them. Nate’s never had a problem blending in with the girls.

When I stroll into the café, I spot Amelia Irons first. She has her back to me, with her black curls slung over her right shoulder. As usual, she’s dressed like a million bucks, the red soles of her thousand-dollar Louboutin pumps visible from across the room. Amelia is wearing a sleek black dress that fits her perfectly, her Chanel bag draped over the edge of her chair.

Amelia is the sole heir to the Atlantic Airlines fortune. Her parents, who named her after Amelia Earhart, died in a horrific plane crash when she was only ten years old. Apart from her carefully selected clothes and pristine appearance, Amelia is no different than the rest of us.

Juliet Frost sits on Amelia’s right side, sipping soda from a straw. Jules earned the nickname The Date Diva after shelling out helpful advice on her blog. She did it for fun, and when people started calling her the best matchmaker in town, she drew the attention of the owner of Market House. I met Jules a few years ago during my Christmas break. I flew home from Los Angeles to see my dad and ended up staying out until seven o’clock in the morning with Callie and the girls. We became fast friends, like we had known each other our entire lives.

Callie’s eyes widen as I approach the table. She raises her hand and waves, forcing Jules and Amelia to look over their shoulders at me. Lola Banks is on Callie’s right. Dubbed The Broke Fashionista, Lola writes a column at Market House that is fitting for her lifestyle. She might not have money like Amelia, but she sure has the same taste in fashion.

“Hey, girl,” Callie says as she slides out of the booth to hug me. She wraps her arms around me so tightly I have to tap her on the back to release me.

“It’s good to see you, too,” I choke out.

She hugs me once more, and her sweet perfume fills my nostrils. “I know this Nate situation sucks, but I won’t lie… I’m a selfish bitch who’s happy you’re home, regardless of the reason.”

“If it means I get to see you,” I say with a smile. “Then I’m happy to be home. Dealing with Nate, though…”

Callie bites the inside of her cheek and gives me a worried look. “Yeah, how’s that going?”

“I bet it’s a real disaster,” Jules says as she greets me with a one-arm hug. “If you need my help with Nate, you know where to find me, babe. I’ll whip his sexy booty into shape.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Ugh, I don’t want to think about his sexy anything.”

Not after seeing the outline of his dick in the picture Willow sent me last night.

“And thanks,” I say to Jules, “but I don’t need love advice when it comes to Nate. I just want this to be over as soon as possible.”

“No,” Amelia says as she greets me with a quick hug. “You need survival advice.”

We all break out into a fit of laughter.

“He’s driving me crazy already,” I admit, “and it’s only been one day.”

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