Violet knew she’d done the right thing. Better a sting at the beginning than things getting stabby by the end. She wasn’t the princess to his prince, and fairy tales were for fools and children. Time to move on with her plan of paying off her tiny, bedraggled house and getting her shit sorted. Time to be an adult and stop screwing her boss. Again. But she meant it this time.
It had been three days since the scene in the storage room. She’d had her mid-week weekend to get herself together and she had. Sure, the first time she saw him again would be awkward and potentially painful. Then it would be over with and things could move on.
Life would go on as it should.
“What is this?” hissed Marie as if she’d stepped in shit. Surprising, given Violet had never met anyone quite as sweet. The woman stood with John at the restaurant counter, perusing something on the computer. Violet had only just arrived. There’d been no sign of Alex yet. Thankfully. She just hoped to God John hadn’t told anyone about the scene in the storage room.
“Huh?” John looked up, he and Marie checking out the scene at the front of the bar. “Oh, her.”
“Why is she here?” asked Marie in a flat, unhappy tone.
“Alex asked her to go to couple’s therapy with him.”
“What? Why?” Marie’s pert nose scrunched up in disbelief.
“How should I know?” The chef shrugged.
“That’s Jane?” asked Violet, already knowing the answer. The sick, unhappy feeling in her stomach confirmed it.
“Hey,” said Marie, overly cheery. Her smile looked wide and strained. So obviously she knew. “Hi, Vi.”
John plastered an equally awkward smile on his face then walked away. Though, she’d never seen the man actually smile before so it might have been his usual. Hard to tell.
All the same, Violet wanted to be beamed up to the mothership immediately, to disappear into thin air.
Marie glanced nervously at the scene at the door, where Alex kissed the tall, thin, beautiful, horrible Jane goodbye on the cheek. The man certainly didn’t waste any time. But then, that wasn’t fair or right. Violet was the interloper, the late accidental addition. Jane held all the rights when it came to him, no matter their marital status.
Unless that was just a spectacular excuse to spare her heart from further involvement.
Shit.
Not until that exact moment, however, had Violet realized she’d wanted to be wrong when it came to him. She’d protested too much and had gone and lost him before they’d even begun. Or his fleeting interest had up and flit. Either way, game over. It no longer mattered. At least she still had her job. And it always happened, that was the truth. Things always went to shit eventually. Sooner hurt less than later, though it didn’t feel like it right now. Her eyes were hot and gritty. She blinked resolutely, getting herself back under control. It took her a moment. Having been dumped and disappointed a hundred and one times, it should have been easier than it was.
Alex wandered back to the bar with his usual long, lanky strides, smiling and calling out greetings to various customers as he went. It had all been some weird wet dream, an aberration, and she would treat it as such. The beautiful man didn’t even look her way.
Her sex fluttered and she ignored it. Hating that her body could still want him when her mind had shut down.
“Are you all right?” asked Marie, her neat little brows scrunched tight.
“Sure,” said Violet, getting busy doing what they paid her to do. Because sinking to the floor in humiliation was for pussies. Big girls weathered the storms of life and stood tall. “Thanks. Wanna go shoe shopping tomorrow before work?”
Marie grinned and her eyes lit up. “I’d love to.”
*
A month later…
Valentine’s Day sucked.
Violet closed the safe and carefully rose to her feet. Good God her poor, poor feet. Her new heels were killing her. So gorgeous with their tiny heart motif but so very painful.
When would she learn?
Hell, she’d never learn. If there was anything she had learned it was that she would never learn.
Her toes were crushed, mutilated, a hapless victim of her need for pretty and her quest to forget. As if being subjected all night to the endless array of happy couples holding hands and wining and dining their way to ecstasy hadn’t been bad enough. The shoes had been meant to fortify her throughout the long and daunting night. Instead they had brought her to an all new low. Plus, she hadn’t forgotten a single thing.
“Finished?” a voice asked. That voice.
Any and all interaction between them had been brief, polite and straight to the point. Obviously, he was way better at forgetting than she’d ever be. The man was a champion at moving on. She should ask for lessons.
“Alex. Hi. Yes.” Her grin felt grim.
He tried to smile back. It didn’t look quite right on him either despite the handsome face. Within a moment it had slipped away. The main problem with banging someone in the workplace was the way it came back to bite your ass on a daily basis.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. The man seemed to be waiting but for what she didn’t know.
She should say something friendly, something to ease the tension between them and put the past firmly behind. Some nice, harmless comment to let him know everything was fine between them. Yes, excellent idea. Pity her mind was a vast, empty wasteland. Her toes throbbed inside her shoes and her calves ached. Silence reigned supreme. Not awkward at all.
“Night,” he said eventually.
“Good night.”
And he left. For a moment she stood there, staring at the empty doorway. Her heart did something weird. It kind of hurt. She drew a deep breath and shook it off. How silly. She’d go home, alone, and have a bath. That’s what she’d do. Same as each and every other night. Tonight, just to mix it up, she might not lie awake thinking about him for hours. Another really good idea, shame its likelihood of eventuating.
“Forgot my keys.” Alex wandered back into the still mostly unfurnished room with another brief, uncomfortable smile. He rifled about in a desk drawer.
“You’re not living upstairs anymore?”
“No.”
“Oh, of course not. You’re back in your home.”
“Hmm?” He tucked a set of keys into his pocket.
“With Jane.”