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It’s like a car accident happening in slow motion as I see him pull her into a hug, my gaze is glued to them, watching with horror as the scene before me unfolds. They pull away and stare at each other for a moment before Eugene touches her cheek softly. Jealousy like I’ve never known roars through me, blazing hot, as sadness washes through shortly behind it, leaving a wake of insecurity behind.
I feel utterly gutted.
The woman is beautiful and stick thin.
Seeking Curves indeed.
God, I’ve been played for a fool, and he thinks he got away with it. Is he really just looking for a woman to keep him up?
Well, it’s not going to be me.
My hand shakes as I reach into my purse, digging around until I find my cell. The last thing I want is for Eugene to think I’m pining for him. I search through my contacts until I see the Bianca’s name and place a call to Seeking Curves. My eyes are burning with unshed tears, but I refuse to pull my gaze away from Eugene.
“Seeking Curves, this is Bianca.”
It takes me a minute to talk. I have swallow down the painful lump in my throat.
“Hey, Bianca, it’s Leesa. I need you to put my application back into circulation, please,” I murmur, my voice wavering. I clear my throat to hide it, but I’m sure she catches it. I’m a horrible liar and wear my emotions on my sleeve.
“I can do that for you, Leesa. I thought you made a match, though?” she asks, concern filling her voice. Their jobs depended on making solid matches, and they were excited when I told them to pull my application out of the running for more dates.
“I thought so too, but it just didn’t work out with Eugene after all.” I’m jealous of a stranger. I’ve overlooked the inconsistencies in his stories, the possibility of him being married, the red flags, but now I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I still see it. I realize there’s less foot traffic on my side of the street, leaving me to be seen if he glances over.
I quickly get off the phone with Bianca and hurriedly flag a taxi, not wanting Eugene to see me or know that I saw him. I don’t know how to process any of this right now. I’m not sure I can, so instead of going home, I go back to work. I don’t want to see Eugene. I can’t handle that right now.
I can’t.
Twelve
Travis
Two Days Later
I’ve decided to cook dinner for Lee. I’m not great at it, but I can manage a few things. I didn’t have anything else to do. Claire is supposed to be getting me some proposals soon and I’ll need to go through those, but for now all is quiet. So, I straightened up the house and did what I could do to make Lee’s life a little easier.
I still haven’t confessed to her about who I am. I meant to that same night I met with Claire. Yet, Lee was stressed and even a little distant, so I held off. It’s been two days since then, and she hasn’t improved. Plus, she’s working some very long hours at Wallflowers. I’m barely getting any time with her and when I do, it’s as if she’s zoned out.
I’m starting to panic about it. I feel as if she’s slipping away from me, and I can’t allow that. I need to fix this, while hopefully proving to Lee that she’s everything to me.
I can't blame her. I haven’t made this easy. She probably looks at me and sees a stranger living in her house, not working and wanting to sleep with her. When I put it like that, even I cringe. Still, she’s just as affected by me as I am by her. This game we’re playing, it’s getting frustrating. I want her. I need her, and she’s pulling away.
I look up when I hear the front door shut. I smile as she walks into the kitchen, and I can see the shock on her face.
My plan for a date night is so far, so good.
“What smells so good?” Lee asks, looking around, hopefully seeing that despite the fact I’m cooking, there’s nothing for her to clean.
“I’m making my famous spaghetti and garlic fry bread,” I announce with a grin. It’s one of the only dishes I can make, but I make it well enough that I know Lee will love it.
“That sounds divine,” she smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Damn it.
“Pull up a chair, I’ll serve it up, then maybe we can watch a movie afterward,” I encourage her, hoping she will say yes. “I’d like to spend some time with you. I have something I’d like to talk to you about.” I’m ready to tell her what’s going on, who I actually am. I want the games to end tonight. I just hope that she’s willing to hear me out.
