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“Well, I won’t hold it against you. I’m the one who was going to marry the dickhead. I’m not sure what I was thinking.”
“You were thinking that you had been on and off for so long, that he was good-looking and rich, and you thought you loved him.”
“I did think that. But now that I look back? I’m not sure I ever did. I’m not sure I’ve ever been in love.”
“Then you haven’t. Because if you’ve been in love, you know it.”
“I thought I was. But my bruised ego hurts a lot more than losing Penn.”
“And then there’s Mandy…”
“Right. Mandy.” I slosh my wine in my glass again and take a drink, letting it drizzle over my tongue. “Mandy, who radiates happiness when she and Jackson are together. And God, he does, too. It took them twenty-nine years to find each other when they were right in front of each other the whole time. And I’m not jealous. I mean, Jackson’s a hottie. He always has been. But I’ve never felt that way about him. Not for more than about five minutes, anyway.”
“I have,” Isabella says. “He never gave me a second look.”
“He danced with you that night, after we went for that first bridesmaid fitting.”
“He was just being polite. In fact, I think maybe I asked him to dance. I can’t remember.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway. He’s head over heels for my sister. And I am happy for them. Truly.”
Our waitress comes by and asks if we want a refill on our Chardonnay.
“No, I’m good,” I say. “Work tomorrow and all that.”
Isabella nods. “Me too.”
“All right,” the server says. “I’ll be right back with your check.”
A good-looking man approaches our table. “Would you like to dance?” He nods to Isabella.
“Sure.” Isabella rises, and she looks good in her skinny jeans and tight T-shirt. She’s so long and lean. No boobs, though, which Mandy and I both have in abundance. Well, maybe not abundance, but more than a handful for sure.
I run over my notes in my head as I watch Isabella and the man—who’s slightly shorter than she is but really good-looking and built—dance.
I’ve only talked to two people so far. Candy and Erik. Erik with a K.
So strange that he made it clear it was a K. Sure, most of us would automatically go to Eric with a C. But what does it really matter? It was over DMs, so I could see it was spelled with a K. Plus, it’s just a pseudonym for an article.
Erik with a K.
Well, if he wants to be Erik with a K, he’ll be Erik with a K.
“Would you care to dance?”
I look up.
A gentleman stands in front of me. His hair is sandy blond, and his eyes are blue. So different from Phantom.
In fact, this is the anti-Phantom. Light hair, light eyes, and no mask and cape.
Since I don’t even know Phantom’s name, I’m free to dance with whomever I please.
I’m free to dance with whomever I please anyway, so why do I feel like I’m cheating by dancing with this man?
I rise and smile. “Absolutely. I’m Frankie.”
“Nice to meet you, Frankie. I’m Tom.”
I follow Tom to the dance floor, and we end up next to Izzy and the guy who asked her. It’s a fast song, so we don’t have to touch each other, which is fine with me. It also means we don’t have to talk, since we’re not close enough to hear each other very well.
Once the song is over, I make my getaway. “Thanks so much. It was great meeting you, but I have an early day at work tomorrow.”
He follows me back to the table where the check is lying. He grabs it. “Please, let me get this.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.”
“I insist.” He lays a credit card on top of it.
Tom Carson. Thomas J. Carson, actually. That’s the name on his credit card.
“So what do you do for a living, that you have to be there so early tomorrow?” he asks me.
“I’m a junior editor at Lovely magazine. My day starts early, sometimes by seven a.m.”
“I suppose it’s a lot of work to get a magazine out every month.”
“It is. But I like the work.”
“That’s good. I’m an attorney.”
“Oh? What kind of an attorney?”
“Corporate attorney. I work for Black Inc.”
“Really? My sister’s fiancé works there. Maybe you know him. Jackson Paris?”
“Sure. I know Jack. Good guy.” Then: “Wait, you’re Mandy’s sister?”
“Guilty.”
“Francesca. I guess I didn’t put two and two together, though now that I look closer, your eyes are similar. Frankie is a nickname for Francesca.”
“No one calls me Francesca, but how did you know Mandy had a sister named Francesca?”
“She mentioned you once when she was in the office bringing Jack lunch. I happened to be talking to him at the time.”
“She brings Jack lunch at the office?”
