Page 33 of Endless Obsession

I can’t wait to find out what happens next.

10

CHARLOTTE

I’m glad, when I leave Cafe L’Rose after my strangely interrupted lunch, that Jaz and I don’t work in the same department. She’s going to want all the details, and I need some time to get my head on straight.

A little over a week ago, I would never have given the time of day to a stranger who walked up and interrupted my lunch. But a little over a week ago, I was also just about the furthest thing a person could be from single. The lack of a ring on my finger was the only thing keeping me from that next step.

Now, I’m the opposite. About as single as it’s possible to be. Short of the calls and texts from Nate begging me to reconsider, I’m completely free of any ties. And the fact that I haven’t gotten any of those calls or texts today makes me hope that maybe he’s given up.

I’m honestly surprised that thought doesn’t make me feel worse. I would have thought that I would want him to try harder to get me back than that, even though I have no intention of actually going back to him. But now—all I feel is relief at the idea that he might be out of my life completely.

That night at Masquerade whetted my appetite. Showed me a glimpse of what I’ve been missing all of these years by being so careful, so perfect, so focused on what I’m supposed to do and want and not what I actually want. And now?—

Now I’m curious. So curious that I actually let Ivan Vasili give me his number.

Am I going to text him? Am I really going to go on that date? The questions rattle around in my head as I walk the two blocks back to my workplace, tugging my camel-colored peacoat closer around me. It’s a chilly day, the wind picking up and ushering in fall, and I’m ready for it. Fall is my favorite time of the year.

It’s not even like it’s going to be all that different being single this fall, I think grimly as I walk back to the elevator and up to my desk. Nate was often too busy to go on leaf-watching and apple-picking dates with me. He always blamed work for why he didn’t have nights free to curl up in front of the fireplace and play board games with me, or why we couldn’t take a long weekend to a cabin in Michigan and stay on the lake. I always told myself that I was lucky he encouraged me to do those things with my girlfriends instead—that he didn’t want me to be home and waiting on him; he just was working too hard to join in.

Now I know that while some of it might have been work, part of it was that he was cheating on me. For how long, exactly, I don’t know. But at least for a while.

I turn over the idea in my head of asking Ivan to go on one of those cozy dates with me. At first thought, it seems funny to think of asking the handsome, heavily tattooed guy who came up to me today to go walk through a pumpkin patch—but maybe I’m just judging him too much on his outward appearance. Maybe he would do something like that with me.

Maybe I should ask.

Pushing the thought of him out of my head, I try to focus on work for the rest of the afternoon. I have plans with Jaz and the rest of our friends to get drinks after work, and I don’t want to be running late.

Jaz is already waiting for me in the lobby when I come down. She must have changed in the bathroom while she was waiting—she’s swapped out her black pencil skirt and silk blouse-and-jacket combo from work today, into a pair of form-fitting jeans and an off-the-shoulder striped top in cream and blue that shows off her bronzed shoulders and sharp collarbones, her black hair piled on top of her head now to show it off even more. She’s swapped out her shoes, too, into a pair of stiletto ankle boots that make her a couple inches taller than me.

Next to her, I feel frumpy in my jeans and button-down shirt. Maybe, as I’m turning over this new leaf, a wardrobe update is going to be in the cards as well.

“I feel like I need to go home and change,” I mutter, as we walk outside to catch the Uber Jaz called. “You always look so stylish.”

“You’re fine,” Jaz reassures me, as we slide into the back of the SUV that pulls up. “You look like you.”

“Maybe I don’t like how me looks anymore.” I tilt my head back against the cool leather seat, breathing in the scent of pine air freshener that’s hanging thickly in the air. “Maybe I should change things up.”

Jaz chuckles, opening her purse to find a mirror and lip stain. “The night at Masquerade really did a number on you, huh?”

I look nervously towards the Uber driver, to see if the mention of the club sparked any recognition. The whole point of the anonymity is that no one will know that I went to a place like that. But he doesn’t so much as glance back in our direction, still entirely focused on the traffic ahead.

“It made me curious,” I admit.

“Curious enough to give that gorgeous guy at lunch your number?” Jaz swipes a dark cherry stain over her lips and then turns to look at me. “Please tell me that my eating lunch at my desk wasn’t wasted.”

I can feel my cheeks heating. “It wasn’t,” I mumble, looking away and pretending to search for something in my own bag. “But he gave me his number. I guess he felt like he was being overbearing and wanted to put the ball in my court.”

Jaz’s eyes widen. “Seriously? Okay, he sounds like a catch. Hot, tattooed, with that accent, and thought about your feelings?” She fans herself. “Girl, if you don’t take him up on that date, I will. Give me those digits if you don’t want them.”

The instinctive reflex that I feel to hide my phone startles me. Do I really feel possessive over a man’s number? A man I don’t even really know? That feels odd to me.

“I think I do want them,” I say instead, dropping my purse back into my lap. “He was polite, at least after that initial thing of interrupting lunch. And he said he just wanted to get to know me better. He wants to take me out on a ‘real date.’ His words.”

“Well, you should text him,” Jaz says decisively. “See what his idea of a real date is.”

“I’m going to. I think.” I chew on my lower lip as the Uber pulls up to the curb outside of the restaurant where we’re meeting Zoe and Sarah. “But I want to make him wait a little bit. I’ll text him tomorrow.”

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