AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I am a buzzkill and total bitch tonight. It’s not you, it’s me,” I tell Vanessa, glancing nervously over my shoulder to the bar area of a packed Charming’s, still afraid Eric is going to show up.
Yes, I’m at Charming’s, and yes, Cindy and Belle convinced me to send Vanessa a Facebook message and invite her out with us tonight. Cindy promised me that Eric was out of town on business all day and wouldn’t be coming to the club. And considering I told Sebastian I had a lawyer friend, I figured getting to know Vanessa a little better would probably come in handy. I really didn’t expect to completely adore the skinny bitch, but there you have it.
“It’s fine,” Vanessa reassures me, taking a sip of her champagne and cranberry juice. “I was a bitch when I first met you as well, and it was completely uncalled for. You have every reason to be in a bad mood, and I don’t blame you at all.”
As soon as Vanessa joined us at the table we’d commandeered right next to the bar—far enough from the stage that we could still see the dancers but quiet enough for conversation—she apologized for how she behaved when we first met at Eric’s mom’s house. Ursula had given her some bullshit story about how her son was dating someone who was only after his money, didn’t care about him at all, and was just using him to advance her business. Vanessa said within ten seconds of seeing Eric and me together, she knew Ursula had fed her a bunch of lies and realized she’d been played. Hearing her tell us how she’s never seen Eric look at anyone the way he looked at me that day, and how he wouldn’t shut up about how amazing I was when they went outside to fix her car, should have made me start crying and snotting all over the place, but after all the crying I did this afternoon at the storage locker and on the way back to Cindy’s house, I’m all cried out. Now I’m just pissed. Pissed that I was forced to give up a guy who looked at me the way I look at tacos.
“So, what do you think about Ariel’s divorce? Can she get it taken care of fast?” Cindy asks.
Vanessa slides the folder we handed her a little while ago back across the table. True to his word, Sebastian had dropped off a cashier’s check at Cindy’s house while we were at the storage facility, with an extra ten grand tacked on to it, as well as a copy of the divorce paperwork that he actually signed this time, and a notarized copy dated today proving it had been officially filed.
I guess he hadn’t been lying through his teeth when he said he’d found himself a wealthy fiancée. Hopefully she has a brain in her head and realizes what a dipshit he is before the wedding, otherwise she deserves that asshole and they can live happily ever after as brainless man and wife.
“Definitely. It’s pretty cut and dried. It typically takes sixty days to be processed, but I’ll call the judge tomorrow and see if we can get a rush on it, considering the circumstances. My family is friends with his, and I went to elementary school with his daughter, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” Vanessa explains.
“Can I just say, it’s really freaking me out seeing you two sitting next to each other,” Belle states, looking back and forth between Vanessa and me.
“The fuck are you talking about?” I mutter, waving our server over and ordering another round of tequila shots and another dumbass champagne cocktail for Vanessa.
“I know, it’s weird, right? Now I know why Ursula asked me to brunch and thought I could entice Eric,” Vanessa laughs.
“The term doppelgänger was coined in 1796 by German writer Johann Paul Richter. According to German folklore, a doppelgänger is a look-alike or double of a living person, often referred to as someone’s evil twin,” Belle recites. “We just need to figure out which one of you is the evil one.”
“Ariel!” Everyone at the table chimes in together, while I sit wondering if someone put a roofie in my tequila.
“Are you all high? What the hell are you talking about?” I ask again.
“Seriously? You don’t see it?” Cindy questions. “You and Vanessa look like you could be twins, except she has olive skin and dark hair. Maybe you’re distant cousins or something. How cool would that be?”
I shake my head as I study Vanessa. Her pouty lips, her big bright eyes, her tiny waist and her long legs, and I know for sure everyone at this table must have snorted bath salts when they went to the bathroom.
“She’s like, a size two. If she turns sideways she’ll disappear. My ass has its own zip code,” I mutter, immediately taking the shot our server sets down in front of us and shooting it back.
