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“I don’t know how you do it. I would have hidden in a cave had it happened to me,” Claire says. Thanks for pouring salt on an open wound. “You worked so hard to build your company, and just like that”—she snaps her fingers—“it disappears overnight. It must be impossibly hard to accept.”
Claire, you haven’t changed.
She’s the kind of girl you hated in high school because she was part of the cool people clique and she was the head cheerleader. Then, she goes off to college and cruises through all the classes, while you slave away on your assignments. To top it off, she ends up marrying one of the richest guys on campus. And she has a way of putting things that cuts both ways. Every time she makes me feel like shit—like now—I wonder why I keep meeting her when she’s in town with her husband.
“I don’t have any choice but to move on with my life. No one else can help me.”
There’s no way in hell she can understand my position. She’s never had to work a day in her life. Because she posts her latest shopping finds on social media, she claims being a fashion influencer is her profession. Nice work if you can get it.
“What about your sister? She—”
“Claire, that’s enough!” She can be so catty when she puts her mind to it. “Sofia said, she’s moved on. Case closed.”
My cheeks are in flames. “Thanks, Timothy.” I shift my attention to Claire. “I don’t want to talk about this more than I have to because I don’t want to have to relive the nightmare over and over again,” I say.
Our drinks arrive not a minute too soon.
“I’m responsible for my own life and mistakes,” I add. “Ciara had nothing to do with this mess.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Sof. I was concerned because it was such a—”
“For God’s sake, Claire, drop it!”
Claire raises her hands. “Okay, okay.”
Finally, she gets the fucking message.
Thank you, Timothy.
I veer the conversation around to her. Since Claire loves talking about her perfect life, she forgets all about pestering me. As she goes on and on, Timothy looks at me and rolls his eyes.
I’m sure he’s heard these stories a zillion times.
I don’t know how he does it.
I only have to deal with her a few times a year, but he has to live with her.
“You won’t believe this, Sof, but this summer Timothy and I are visiting—”
She stops talking and stares behind me, as if she’s just seen a ghost.
“Claire, are you okay?” I ask.
A deep voice speaks from behind me. “I saw you come in, but I didn’t want to interrupt your time with your friends, and since I was having a lunch meeting, I thought I’d catch you once I was done.”
That simply can’t be Bryce speaking.
I turn slowly, praying that another man I know sounds exactly like Bryce.
For the love of God, it’s the man himself.
My two worlds collide at the absolute worst moment.
“Oh my,” Claire says, “Mr. Van Der Linden, it’s a pleasure to meet you again.”
“I’m afraid I don’t remember us meeting,” Bryce says.
Claire jumps out of her seat, and in her giddiness knocks her chair crashing to the floor, causing patrons sitting at tables near ours to look in our direction.
