Page 28 of The Billionaire's Cinderella

Now he has my attention. Big time. I sit opposite him, raise my flute and clink it with his.

“Funny,” I say before taking a quick sip. “I could’ve sworn that was her I met earlier.”

“Well, she was here. But she wasn’t here here,” he says, layering various cheeses, prosciutto, crackers and grapes onto one of the plates and passing it to me. “There’s a difference.”

“Maybe you could explain that to us slow members of the group,” I say, spreading my napkin in my lap.

“You’re showing a lot of interest in my personal life. Even my ancient history. I take that as a good sign. If I’d known that a brief appearance from my ex-wife would make you this jealous—”

“I am not jealous!”

“—I would’ve brought her with me to the bakery the other day. Saved myself some time and effort.”

“Are you going to answer my question, or not?” I say, scowling.

And blushing. Because I am jealous and don’t possess the acting skills to hide it.

He represses a smug smile with difficulty. “The classic story. College sweethearts. Starter marriage. We grew in different directions. Got divorced after a couple of years and hated each other’s guts for a couple of years. Now we’ve made our peace. We’re friends.”

I think back to the way she greeted him with heart eyes, trailing sexual availability like a garden slug trailing slime.

“With benefits,” I add, then sip my champagne again.

He pauses, his cracker sandwich hovering near his mouth, and eyes me. “There have been occasional benefits. But I didn’t cheat on her, if that’s what you’re thinking. That’s not me.”

This information means way more to me than it should.

“Any lingering feelings? On either side?”

“I can’t speak for her,” he says, which I take for a yes. I don’t see any woman falling out of love with him easily, especially one who was married to him. “But I’m not in love with her anymore. Haven’t been for a long time. So you’ve got a straight shot at me.”

“Good to know,” I say, laughing. “You’re not going to know what hit you when I’m through with you.”

“Already don’t,” he says with a wry shake of his head.

“What kind of man are you?” I ask. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that men are supposed to be cagey and/or silent about their feelings no matter what?”

“Are you kidding? I wrote the book on silent. You’ve got some evil power over me.” He shudders dramatically. “That’s why I don’t know what hit me.”

“Don’t get me off track,” I say. “So what caused you to grow in different directions?”

“Careers,” he says, shrugging. “They were more important to us than the marriage. She’s a big interior designer.”

“The dreaded careers.”

“I’m older now. Much wiser. We got married too young. Probably didn’t know each other well enough to begin with. Didn’t have the same ideas about what our life together should look like.” He shrugs again. “I won’t make the same mistake again. In case you know anybody who’s interested. What about you?”

“Me? Not much to tell. Never married. One serious boyfriend in college. We broke up a few months ago, like I said. Some casual and usually disastrous dating since then. That’s about it.”

He watches me closely during this recitation, his expression indecipherable. “What happened with the guy? I know it’s none of my business, but I just spilled my guts to you.”

“Fair enough,” I say glumly. “I thought we were moving toward marriage. He finally gave me the whole I’m not ready to get married speech and moved back to Boston. Where he’s from.” I hesitate, this next part still sticking in my craw even though it’s been a little while since I learned the news. “Last I heard, he was back with his high school girlfriend. His parents were always her biggest fans. They were never my biggest fans.”

“His parents are clearly assholes. You still in love with him?”

I know the answer to this question, but I still take a moment to think about where I was in the immediate aftermath (utter devastation) compared to where I am now (wobbly but strengthening self-confidence).

“No. Now that I have a little distance from the situation, I can see that he’s still pretty immature. Kind of a man-boy. I don’t see him cutting his apron strings anytime soon. Or being ready for marriage anytime soon.”

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