“Duly noted,” I say, and reach for that wine. “Wait, am I supposed to be impressed? Or even know what crow pose is?”
“Maybe next time you visit you should go to yoga with me and find out.”
“Hard pass,” I snort. “So where are the kids?”
“Richard took them to a movie,” she says, relief clear on her face. “What about you? I can already tell it’s a tough day because you’re into the pinot.”
“Just be glad I haven’t broken out the hard spirits yet. Things are a mess.”
“With Jake?”
“With everything,” I moan, cradling the glass between my palms. “I mean, I’m totally crazy about him. I want to be with him for real. But I have no idea what his real agenda is. I mean, fifty thousand dollars? I’d fuck me for that kind of money.”
Jess laughs. “Does that count?” she asks. “I mean, if we got you a massive dildo, wouldn’t that technically be game over?”
I give a hollow laugh. “I wish! But it’s this manly quest for glory, now. They’ve built it up so much that whoever gets to claim credit is basically going to become a fucking legend.”
“Don’t you mean a legend for fucking?” Jess cracks, and I laugh for real this time.
“But don’t you see, this means I can’t trust a single thing Jake says or does. I mean, how will I ever know if he would’ve gone after me on his own—without the strike? Maybe if it was anyone else, I could try and believe him. But think about it, Jess—his whole mission in life is getting the unobtainable—in work and in his personal life, too. And now I’m the shiny new toy that everyone wants!”
“I’m sorry, babe.” She looks sympathetic.
“Maybe I should take the risk, but I’ve seen enough movies to know how this ends,” I add darkly. “Me in a pink dress, alone at prom. Me with a bucket of pig’s blood on my head. Me—”
“I get it!” she laughs. “You know, fuck this shit. You should just sleep with some random dude. Break the strike and get it over with, then you can start clean with Jake.”
“Yeah,” I laugh, “that sounds like a great idea, Sis. I’ll just sleep with some random guy I don’t care about so I’m free to sleep with the guy I actually like.”
“Well, keep me posted,” she says. “Because you not fucking men is about the most excitement going on in our sex lives right now.”
I clear my throat. “Richard isn’t . . . ?”
“Stress. Work. Either that or he’s fucking Elaine in accounting,” Jess sighs.
“You . . . don’t seem worried?”
“Honestly, I’m so tired running around after the kids all day, I’m loving the break.” Jess raises her glass to me.
“I hate you,” I tell her, only half-joking. “I’m going out of my mind right about now.”
There’s a loud knock at my door, and I practically jump out of my chair, spilling my glass of wine over the table. “Shit,” I curse. “Someone’s at the door,” I tell Jess, “do you think the Ming Na Palace is taking psychic orders?”
“I should go anyway,” Jess says. “I have exactly forty-two minutes to take a bath without a tiny person tugging on my sleeve. Good luck!”
I sign off, and go open the door. If my favorite takeout place was sending random deliveries, that would be the best, but when I open my door, it’s not a double order of Pad Thai. Nope, it’s something far less appetizing.
Todd.
My scummy ex-boyfriend Todd, who I last saw waltzing his shiny new fiancée off to Tiffany’s. Horrible Todd who left me high and dry three years ago, after I helped put him through law school—just in case you’re keeping score, which I most definitely am.
“Hey, Lizzie,” he says, flashing me a too-familiar smile. He looks like he came straight from the office, in one of his fussy suits and a paisley-print tie, his blond hair gelled back in a way that reminds me I had to wash my hands after sex. “Can I come in?”
“Nope,” I say evenly, crossing my arms over my chest. “But the bigger question is: what the fuck are you doing here?”
“I think I made a mistake, Lizzie,” he says, smiling wider. “I should’ve never let you go.”
I snort. “It’s a little late for all this, don’t you think?” I say. “And what about Harmony?”
“That’s over,” he says quickly, putting a hand on the doorjamb so I can’t close the door without maiming him. And standing there looking at him, I’m almost annoyed enough to want to try.
“Sorry to hear that,” I say in a tone that makes it clear I’m anything but.
“You were the only one who really supported me, Lizzie. The only one who believed in me,” he says earnestly, taking a step closer. “She never did.”
“That’s not what you said when you dumped me,” I shoot back. “What was it? Oh yeah, I wasn’t ambitious enough. I didn’t understand your drive.”
“Please, Lizzie,” Todd begs. “Please give me another chance to make things right between us.”
After all this time, I have to say that it’s pretty gratifying to have Todd crawling back like this, but I’ve got a sneaking suspicion it’s not my supportive belief that’s got him showing up on my doorstep like this.
Not unless that’s what the kids are calling my pussy these days.
“Listen, Todd,” I say brightly, “it’s way too late for all of this. I mean, it’s great you’ve finally realized that I was the best thing that ever happened to you, and that deep down, you’re just a narcissistic douchewad who needs constant flattery and ego-stroking to make it through the day, but I’m not interested. Let’s face it, I deserve way better than you.”
I start to close the door on him, fingers and all, but he sticks his foot in the way.
“Wait, what about the strike?” he asks. “If you agree to break it with me, I’ll split the money with you. Eighty-twenty.”
I knew it!
“Goodbye, Todd,” I say, shoving him out the door.
“Sixty-forty?” he yells. “We don’t even have to really do it! We can just tell people we did! That way you can just move on with your life and leave this whole strike thing behind.”
“Oh, so this is all for my benefit? How generous.”
I slam the door shut and wait until I hear his footsteps head back down the stairs. What an arrogant, selfish, dickwad of a jerk!
With a weirdly tempting idea . . .
Nope. I shake it off. Despite what Jess says, it would be crazy to pretend I got laid, just to get this over with. I want Jake—and only Jake.
But this way, I’d get to see if he really wants me for me, or just as a prize . . .
Ugh!
I slide to the floor and grab the phone. “Hello, Ming Na Palace? I need to place an order. A big one.”
Something tells me it’s going to be a long, sexually-frustrated night.
30
Lizzie