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Authors: Jessa Jeffries

Secondhand Boyfriends (13 page)

BOOK: Secondhand Boyfriends
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“She wants to meet up in a half hour. She’s got a busy day today,” I said as I read her message.

“Better get ready,” Claudia laughed.

I flew off the bed and began rifling through my closet to find something appropriate to wear. I threw my hair in a top knot, slicked on some tinted moisturizer, mascara and red lipstick, popped on some black, Audrey Hepburn-style sunnies and was out the door.

Ayla was already at the café when I got there, and of course she was already sipping a steaming cup of coffee and flipping through her phone.

“Hi,” I said as I plastered the biggest smile on my face. I had to play extra nice that day if I wanted her to open up to me.

“Hey,” she said with a tepid smile.

I ordered my drink then sat down next to her.

“So what’s this about?” she asked. She clearly wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

“Oh,” I replied, taken off guard. “I was just bored and wanted someone to get coffee with.”

I was a horrible liar, and I knew it.

She glanced down at her watch. “I have to be back at the station in a half hour. Just so you know.”

“I didn’t realize you were on weekends,” I said as my coffee was finally delivered.

“Just this weekend. Filling in for someone.” She raised her mug to her lips, which I then noticed were shellacked with thick, fuchsia lipstick. Her foundation was caked on as well. She had definitely taken time out of her morning to leave the station and meet me here, and she didn’t have to do that.

“I love your dress,” I said as my eyes were mesmerized by the swirls of bright colors that seemed to play off her tan skin just perfectly.

“Thanks,” she said as she stared off. “Vintage Pucci. It was my mother’s.”

“Nice,” I said. I could only imagine the closet she’d have inherited from a supermodel mom.

“So,” I said, sipping steamy liquid from my cup. “I have a random thing to ask you about.”

Her body turned towards me, and she was engaged for once. “Nothing’s random.”

“This is going to seem really weird,” I said as a sheepish smile formed across my lips. “Do you and Bennett know each other?”

Her face suddenly went from bland and unexpressive to twisted and curious.

“Yeah,” she said as her eyes squinted a bit. “Did he not mention that to you?”

“No,” I replied. I could feel my face getting red and my insides starting to burn hot. “He didn’t.”

Ayla tossed her shiny, brown hair over her shoulder and cocked her head back, cracking a sinister smile.

“We dated,” she said. She licked her lips before adding, “He was sort of obsessed with me after I dumped him.”

I felt like I’d been sucker punched right in the gut. I had suspected that to be the case, but I never thought about how I’d feel if I found out it was really true.

“How long did you two date?” I asked.

“Not long at all,” she said. “Maybe three or four months. He just wasn’t my type.”

I wondered how Bennett could not be someone’s type. He was gorgeous. He was smart. He was a freaking detective. It didn’t get much hotter than that. Just thinking about those lips and those broad shoulders and that lush head of hair kept me up all night some nights. And he had manners to boot. He was the total package.

“He was fine at first, but then he just sort of creeped me out,” she said. “Like he knew things about me that I’d never told him.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think this day and age that’s pretty common?” I replied, sticking up for him. I refused to believe Bennett was any sort of creep. “You can find out anything about anyone on the internet.”

“I’m not talking about addresses and phone numbers,” she replied. “I’m talking about what I’d had for breakfast or who I’d had lunch with that day. It just got to be too much.”

I felt sick as the coffee sloshed around in my unsettled stomach. This was not good.

“How long ago did you date?” I asked.

“I dumped him right before I met Sam, so maybe a little over a year ago?” she said as she stared up at the ceiling. “Yeah, that should be right.”

“So you only dated for a few months, and a year later he’s still not over you. Are you sure?” I asked.

“Think what you want about him,” she said as she shrugged. “I guess I just find it odd that he moved into my apartment building six months ago and just so happened to get the apartment right across from mine.”

I stared down at the table. Out of all the apartment buildings in the city, it did seem rather odd that he’d just happen to pick hers.

“He tries to act all casual around me,” she said. “But I can still see it in his eyes. That crazy side of him. That look he gave me when I dumped him. Gives me chills to this day.”

“So why did you agree to go out with us that night after the banquet?” I asked. “If he’s this psychotic stalker that gives you the creeps?”

She took a defensive stance and sat up straight. “I did it for Julianne. I’d do anything for her. Plus it was such an awkward conversation to have right then and there. What could I do?”

She had a point.

“Look,” she said. “I don’t mean to burst your bubble. I’m sure you think he’s great and all, but all I know is Sam and I are moving out the minute my lease is up. Bennett needs to move on.”

She looked down at her watch.

“I have to get going,” she said as she took a final sip of her coffee.

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks for meeting up with me.”

She smiled briefly and fled the coffee shop. The meeting was over just as soon as it’d started, but I’d heard all I needed to know.

 

CHAPTER 17

 

 

 

 

 

“I knew it,” I seethed as I flung the door open to our apartment and threw my purse down on the chair.

“What?” Claudia asked, looking up from the T.V. “How’d it go?”

“Bennett for sure dated Ayla,” I said. “And he pretty much stalked her. He moved into her apartment building to be closer to her, for crying out loud. Who the hell does that?”

“Huh,” Claudia replied as she raised one eyebrow. “That is pretty disturbing, but everything sort of makes sense now.”

“They only dated a few months,” I said. “Over a year ago. And he’s still hung up on her.”

“Let’s be honest,” she replied. “A lot of guys seem to have a hard time getting over her. She’s gorgeous.”

“You’re not helping,” I said as I plopped down.

“Even Eric brings her up from time to time,” she replied.

“And it doesn’t bother you?”

“No,” she said. “It did at first, but I know he doesn’t have an ice cube’s chance in Hell at ever getting back with her. And he knows that. And it’s not like he talks about her all the time. He talks about her like you’d talk about an old friend.”

“Wow,” I said. “Good for you for being cool about it.”

“He doesn’t get weird about her like Bennett does, though,” Claudia added. “If he got all weird about her, then that would raise a flag to me.”

I let out an exasperated sigh and covered my face with my hands.

“What do I do now?” I asked. “I really, really like him, Claud.”

“I know you do,” she said in the most pitiful voice I’d ever heard. “Your phone just went off.”

“You and your superhero hearing abilities,” I said as I fished around in my purse for my phone. “It’s a text. From Bennett.”

“Oh, geez,” Claudia said as she rolled her eyes. “And it says?”

 

IS EVERYTHING OKAY? CAN WE TALK?

 

I read it aloud to her.

“What are you going to say?” she asked. “Do you even want to talk to him?”

“I don’t know,” I said as I bit my nails. “I don’t know if I can believe anything he says anymore.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly lie to you about Ayla,” she said.

“He lied by omission. Same thing,” I countered.

“True.”

Without giving it another thought, I reached down and shut my phone off.

“I’m taking a technology hiatus for a while,” I said.

“Good for you,” Claudia said as she turned back to her T.V. show.

“Maybe that will teach him a thing or two,” I hoped out loud.

A part of me still didn’t want to believe that Bennett was a creep. I wanted to believe we could make it work and that we still had a chance, but I wasn’t going to be a pushover.

I climbed up from the chair and headed back to my room. I had laundry to do. I had books to catch up on. I wanted to go for a mind-clearing jog.

 

***

 

Monday morning couldn’t have started out any worse than it did. I’d forgotten to turn my alarm on the night before. When I woke up at 7:40, I scrambled out of bed as if the apartment was on fire and jumped in the shower. My hair was greasy from the weekend, but I didn’t have time to wash it and I refused to go to work with wet hair. I doused it in dry shampoo, which only made it worse, and pulled it back into a disgustingly oily chignon.

I slipped on a pair of wrinkly slacks and a button down blouse, grabbed a granola bar and my purse, and headed to work.

I sneaked in the back door and stopped at the coffee station in the office. If anyone had noticed I wasn’t at my desk yet, maybe I could pretend I’d been getting coffee the whole time? Because everyone knows sometimes it can take an extra fifteen or twenty minutes to get coffee.

I’d worked for the Harrisville Tribune for three years, and had never once been late for work. I’d only called in a handful of times. My record was almost spotless. I could only hope that today wouldn’t tarnish that.

With a cup of black office sludge in my hand, I bee lined it for my desk and fired up my computer as fast as I possibly could. My eyes scanned the room for any hint that Julianne was making her morning rounds. The coast was clear, thank goodness.

Several minutes later, immersed in my emails, I heard the familiar click of Julianne’s heels coming towards me. I spun around in my chair and planted my signature professional smile on my face.

“Good morning,” I said to her. I was feeling less than chipper on the inside, but I didn’t want her to know that.

The look on her face was nothing short of disgust and a little bit of terror as she saw my wrinkled, frumpy get up and my greasy, half-assed up do. She was not used to ever seeing me look anything less than polished.

Her brows furrowed as she stared a few seconds too long. I was waiting for her to give me some sort of lecture on professionalism and dressing the part.

“Olivia,” Julianne said as she braced herself on my desk. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

I closed my eyes as I waited for the lecture to start.

“We’re going to feature Ayla’s wedding in the Lifestyle insert for the Sunday paper,” she said. “I think it would be a big draw and give us that extra push for readership.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It’s going to be a beautiful wedding. It should be featured.”

“We want to target readers from 20-25,” she continued. “Your age group.”

“I see.”

“Which is why I would like you to do the write up,” she said, her lips slowly curling into an excited smile.

“What?” I said as I nearly jumped out of my seat. “I figured I had a few more years yet before you’d let me write anything!”

Julianne laughed. “This is your shot, kid. I’m giving you a chance to prove yourself.”

“Thank you!” I said. I wanted to hug her, but I knew it wouldn’t be appropriate.

“It’s also my way of thanking you for taking Ayla under your wing,” she said. “She mentioned you two have gotten together a couple times now. I think she really likes talking to you.”

“Really?” I was a little flabbergasted, but I wasn’t going to admit that.

Julianne nodded. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.”

“It’s nice to make new friends,” I lied through my teeth. I didn’t consider Ayla a friend. Not yet. She was more like a resource.

“Of course, since you’ll be writing about her wedding, you’ll need to actually attend her wedding,” Julianne said. “Bring that cute guy you brought to the banquet. I’m sure Ayla wouldn’t mind if you brought a date.”

“Are… you… sure?” I asked. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but I refused to go alone.

“Absolutely!” Julianne insisted. “So the wedding is the second Saturday in April. Obviously you have all the details in your files, but if you could show up beforehand while they’re getting ready and interview both Sam and Ayla, I think that would be really sweet. We’ll have a photographer there too to snap some candids. I think this is going to be a great piece in the weekly. Probably one of our top pieces of the year!”

Julianne walked off with a smile across her face and her eyes in a daze as she probably fantasized about winning another award or boosting sales above and beyond the anticipated margins for the year. She always aimed high no matter what, and it almost always worked out for her. She was savvy, and I admired that about her.

The moment Julianne and her infectious energy left my cubicle, my eyes filled with tears. Sam was really getting married. Bennett may or may not work out for me. The reality that was my life was really starting to hit me.

“Olivia, you all right?” I heard Michael say as he approached my desk.

I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him.

“Yeah,” I said as I smiled and tried to fight my misty eyes. With a smile, sad tears could easily look like happy ones.

“Why are you crying?” He looked puzzled.

“Julianne just offered me a chance to write a major piece for the Lifestyle weekly,” I said. “I’m just really happy.”

Michael’s eyes moved from side to side, as if he didn’t think it was that big of a deal. He was the kind of guy who’d be perfectly happy writing about movies every single day for the rest of his life.

“That’s, um, great,” he said.

To my pleasant surprise, he walked off. I didn’t even have to tell him I was busy. Tears, female tears, must have made him terribly uncomfortable.

I glanced at my calendar. There were only four more weeks until the wedding. Four more weeks until I’d lose Sam forever. Four more weeks until I would be forced to move on with my life with no backup plan of any sort.

Selfishly, I wanted to make it work with Bennett. Doesn’t every girl believe she’s going to be the one to change a man? To fix all of his issues? He was everything I’d ever wanted in a guy, and I was going to prove to him that I could be everything he needed in a girl.

BOOK: Secondhand Boyfriends
7.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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