As the clock ticked the day away, closer and closer to the gallery’s closing time of six o’clock, Libitz became more jumpy. She’d get home by six thirty and have half an hour to kill before Neil arrived to take her out to dinner, totally clueless about the fact that she planned to break up with him. She shuddered. Maybe she should throw back a couple of vodka shots in that half hour so she wasn’t so edgy. She felt terrible about what she was about to do.
They hadn’t dated that long—a little over two months. And they hadn’t slept together, thank God. But Neil was, as her mother had pointed out in no less than eight e-mails and texts between last night and today, a “catch,” and Libitz knew it. He was hardworking, thoughtful, kind, and steadfast. He’d help her raise their Jewish children in a Jewish home, and their families would be overjoyed by their union. He was an organic choice—smart, seamless, and practical.
Jean-Christian Rousseau, on the other hand? He was, as he’d always been, a minefield. But more and more, he was her minefield, and she didn’t want it any other way. He was sexy and charming, devilishly handsome, and a match for her wit. But it was more than that—the way he loved his family, the way he looked at her like she could give him the world, the way he made her feel when he touched her—it didn’t hold a candle to the way she felt about Neil. Libitz wanted J.C.’s heat and passion. She wanted it forever.
When the security system beeped quietly to alert her that someone had entered the store, she looked up, half-expecting Jean-Christian to materialize from her thoughts, but her eyes widened in dismay. Standing just inside the door, holding two dozen roses pageant-style, with a massive, beaming smile on his face…was Neil.
Two hours early, at her place of business instead of the privacy of her home.
Her stomach fell, and all the wonderful butterflies that had taken up residence there over the last few days flew upward, catching in her ribcage and compressing her lungs. She gasped unpleasantly, putting her hand over her heart. She wasn’t ready. Shit. She wasn’t ready to do this.
“Libitz?” said Neil, approaching her, a concerned look on his face. “Honey?”
His voice forced her feet forward, and she greeted him with an awkward hug. “Neil. You surprised me. You’re early!”
He hugged her back, and Libitz took a shaky breath as he transferred the roses from his arms to hers. As she backed away, she had a ridiculous notion that she probably looked like Miss America and squelched the urge to wave.
God, I’m losing it.
“Are you…okay?” asked Neil, looking into her eyes.
“Yes!” she chirped. “Just…surprised.”
“Good surprised?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
Her lips parted, but nothing came out. She just stood there like a mackerel, staring at him.
“Lib?”
“These need water!” she said. “I think I have a…a vase. In my office.”
“Let’s go find out,” he said, and if she wasn’t mistaken, a touch of suggestion had entered his voice, as if he interpreted her quest for a vase as a ruse for alone time in her office.
“Stay here,” she commanded him. “I’ll be right back.” But as she turned and walked away, she realized that if she was going to break up with him, her office would afford them the most privacy. She pivoted to face him. “Nope. Come with me.”
He gave her a look, then grinned indulgently as he followed behind her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re acting a little funny, Lib.”
Calm down, she told herself. Calm down. You can do this.
It’s not that Libitz hadn’t broken up with a guy before, and Lord knew she was a frank-spoken woman, but this felt mean somehow, because Neil had done nothing wrong. She dreaded hurting him. She wished there was another way to let him go, but there wasn’t, and she hated the conversation they needed to have.
They entered her office and she closed the door, beelining to the bathroom in the corner of the room and finding a vase under the sink. She filled it with water, calling to Neil, “I’ll be right there. How was Vermont?”
She plopped the roses in the vase, set it on the shelf behind the toilet, and then turned back to the room, surprised to find Neil blocking the doorway.
“I missed you, honey,” he said, reaching for her. “That’s how Vermont was.”
Libitz lurched back into the bathroom, out of his reach. “Oh.”
“Hey. Are you okay?” asked Neil, taking a step back.
She used the gap between Neil and the doorway to make her escape and crossed the room, sitting down in her office chair behind her desk. Gulping as Neil followed her and took a seat in one of the mod-style guest chairs, she nodded.
He chuckled awkwardly. “I feel like I’m interviewing for a job.”
Libitz winced. This was the moment.
“Neil,” she said. “You’re amazing. You’re kind and sweet, and you’ve been nothing but—”
“Holy shit,” hissed Neil, recoiling in the clear-acrylic chair. “Are you breaking up with me?”
Libitz blinked at him, trying to retrieve her train of thought. “I just…”
“You just what?” asked Neil, leaning forward, his warm blue eyes taking on a cooler hue.
“I met someone else,” she murmured, forcing herself not to look away.
“Someone else?”
She nodded. “Mm-hm.”
“In five days?”