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I point toward the door. “Patrick just walked in.”
“No way!” She spins quickly and looks toward the entrance. “Why are you hiding?”
“Because I’m not wearing something spectacular. Everyone knows the cardinal rule of seeing an ex is, you must look fantastic.”
“I see him,” Melissa says, and Jillian looks with her.
I start to beg them not to gawk because Patrick would recognize Melissa when I hear, “Melissa Jones? Is that you? I was wondering when I’d run into you.”
She shifts her body toward him. “I can’t believe you bought a house in Newbury. What kind of psychopath are you?”
Patrick was going in for a hug, but he steps back, now seeming to think twice about it. “Um … oh, you’re joking. I think? Um, well, my wife loves the schools there.”
“They’re good. They’re also good in pretty much every other town. If you bought a house in Newbury, why are you in Greenwood Village today?”
“My law practice opened an office here.”
Melissa doesn’t know how to pretend as well as I do. “You are just infiltrating everyone’s world now, aren’t you?”
I would high-five my best friend for giving Patrick some flack, but I’m currently crouched on the floor, hiding from him. Ugh, I can’t believe I’m hiding. Why exactly am I hiding when I’ve done nothing wrong?
“Found it!” I declare as I pop up from the floor.
Patrick’s eyes widen as he watches me shimmy from behind Melissa’s seat and over to my own.
“What were you doing on the floor?” Patrick asks me.
“My contact,” I answer easily as I flip my curls behind my shoulder, take my seat, and sip my shaken espresso.
“You don’t wear contacts or even glasses. Or do you? I suppose a lot can happen in seven years. Look at me. I’m married with kids,” he says, pointing out the obvious.
I glare at him. “So I’ve noticed.”
Patrick looks at me with a shift in his stance. He looks at Melissa and Jillian and then back to me. His hands open and close, like they’re sweaty. “Actually, Tara, I’m glad I ran into you. I stopped by your office the other day, but they said you were out of town.”
“Why were you at her office?” Melissa asks defensively.
“Just hoped to chat in private. Maybe we could get together sometime. Talk. When we saw each other at the bakery, you seemed off. I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he starts.
His eyes trail down to my ring finger again. There it is. The pity eyes. I hate that look. It’s sad and downturned, like my single status is a terrible thing. I’m not happy about it either, but at least I haven’t broken my own heart. He’s the one who has to walk around with that guilt. While I want him to be miserable with that knowledge, I refuse to let him look down at me the way he is.
I’m no one’s victim.
“I am only in town for the afternoon. I’m spending the summer on a ranch,” I tell him and see his eyes widen in surprise. “My boyfriend’s ranch,” I add, and Jillian nearly chokes on her coffee.
“You’re living with someone,” he states, as if clarifying this information.
“We’re very happy. No plans to get married. We don’t believe in the arbitrary binding of it all. So barbaric and takes away the romance.”
Jillian groans at my words while Melissa seems enthralled with them.
“They’re married in the eyes of God,” Melissa adds. “That’s all that matters.”
“Oh dear,” Jillian says to herself.
“Tara is killing it at the game of life right now. She’s even getting an award for being an awesome accountant,” she adds.
I lift the letter I just received. “That’s right. The governor is giving me this incredible award at the end of the month. I’ll have to pick out a gown and get my boyfriend a tuxedo. He looks so good in a suit.”
