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“Competition. And pathological insecurity.”
I shook my head. “How can a woman who is the prototype for physical human perfection be insecure?”
“That’s a really good question.”
“So. Just to sum up: You and Kennedy Monroe are not together?”
“We were never together.”
“Your matching-sweater People cover tells a different story.”
“That was all made up.”
It was so hard to comprehend. “But why?”
“To give people something to talk about.”
“But don’t you care that it wasn’t true?”
Jack leaned back. “I’d rather have people gossiping about fake things than real ones.”
I tried to take it all in. “So. One more time. Just to clarify: You never dated Kennedy Monroe?”
Jack gave a nod, like Affirmative. Then he said, “Never.”
My whole body melted with relief. Then I smacked him on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner? I’ve been thinking she was your girlfriend this whole time.”
Jack shrugged. “I’m not really supposed to talk about it.”
“But I specifically asked you about it back when we first met.”
“It was need-to-know information. And you didn’t need to know.” He added: “Back then.”
Fair enough.
“And what about you?” Jack asked next.
“What about me?”
“I heard Bobby went by your place the other night.”
“How did you even hear that?”
“You didn’t get back together or anything, did you?”
I looked at Jack’s impossibly handsome face, highlighted by the fire. Fine. Were we doing this? “Um. He dumped me on the night after my mother’s funeral, and then he slept with my best friend, and then he dumped her, too, so… no. We did not get back together.”
“Whoa,” Jack said.
“But that’s not the worst of it.”
“What’s the worst of it?”
“He said something really, really terrible to me. Something I’ll never forget.”
Jack leaned closer. “What did he say?”
“I can’t tell you.”
