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She was right, but life wasn’t quite that simple. “It’s not like you can leave a restaurant for weeks on end, Val.”
“Maybe so, but your method of absolute avoidance has officially bitten you in the behind. What are you going to do?”
“What am I going to do?” As if there was anything to do. “I’m going to do nothing, because there is nothing to be done. He’s my neighbor and I hate it, but I have a job and a place to live so I’m happy. Satisfied.” And if I could arrange my schedule just so, I could avoid seeing him altogether.
Surprise flashed in Valona’s eyes but she said nothing, just flashed a tight smile and shook her head as if I was the one being ridiculous. “How good did he look?”
I shrugged. “He looked all right.” As gorgeous as he ever was. No, he was even better than he’d been as a twenty year old wannabe rock star. Those intervening years had been kind to him. Ryan had the kind of wear and tear that a certain type of man—rugged and low maintenance—wore well. Extremely well. Women of a certain age probably found him completely and totally irresistible. Not me. Definitely not me.
But…some women. Somewhere out there in the world.
Valona tossed her head back and laughed. “You are so full of it, Pippa. I saw him when he was here a few months back and the man is even more gorgeous than when he was a boy. That whole soulful, rugged rocker thing looks good on him, and you damn well know it.”
“If that’s the kind of thing you go for, sure he looks good. I prefer my men a little more clean-cut these days.” Men who saw a barber regularly were stable men, reliable men. The kind of man who wouldn’t just upend your future plans to chase his dreams. And not even bother to ask you to come with him.
Valona’s laughter faded and she let out a contemplative sigh. “Randy was as clean-cut as they come, not even a five o’clock shadow to speak of, and he came home every night from work to have dinner with me and the girls. He wore a suit and tie even on the weekends, but he was still planning to rip my heart out. To walk away without a backwards glance, Pippa.”
Shit. “I’m sorry, Val. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
She waved away my concern the way she always did. “It’s not bad, not anymore. It just really pisses me off that I didn’t find out until after he was already dead, because then I couldn’t be angry with him; couldn’t confront him about the fact that he’d said nothing about being unhappy or in love with someone else. He took away my anger and forced me to play the grieving widow because that’s what Belle and Bridget needed from me.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “He was a real dirtbag for that.” It made me mad on her behalf. “I can stop at the cemetery and spit on his grave if you want?”
“Don’t bother. Once a month I send red and purple Dahlia’s to his headstone.”
My eyes widened at my so-called sweet friend. “Wasn’t he allergic?”
She nodded with an evil grin. “May he sneeze and suffer in peace.”
We shared a long laugh, complete with watery eyes and aching sides. “I’ve missed this. I’m glad to be back.”
“Are you?”
I knew she asked because I steadfastly avoided my hometown as much as I could help it. “I am. I love being able to have coffee with you and spending time with you and the girls, invigorates me. I’m sorry I stayed away so long.” I had a feeling if I’d been closer I might have noticed a change in Randy’s behavior sooner. Val was too busy with the twins to notice much.
“You did what you had to do and I’ve told you a thousand times, I understand. You came when I needed you.”
“Hey, look on the bright side, at least Randy died before he could nickel and dime you out of what you rightly deserve. And best of all? His little slut got nothing.” That was the real silver lining in all of this, that the little homewrecker in search of a sugar daddy had to start over with someone else.
Valona let out a shocked gasp that quickly turned to a laugh. “I can’t believe you said that, but I am so glad you did.”
“Right?” I held up my coffee mug and clinked it with hers. “To getting the last laugh.”
“To finding your passion and putting the past behind you.” Valona laughed when I quirked a brow at her. “You’ll have to do it sooner or later.”
“Later,” I said quickly. “I choose later.”
“We’ll see,” she said cryptically and took a long sip of her black coffee loaded with brown sugar. “Tell me about the new job. How’s it going? Do you love it? Does the chef really have purple hair?”
