Page 37 of Choosing the right Man

“No way. I want to impress you with my skills.” She throws some butter and seasoning on bread and places it in the oven. The smells in the kitchen make my mouth water. I have to be careful not to drool all over my chin.

“You’re doing a good job, and I haven’t actually tasted the food yet,” I assure her.

“I aim to please,” she replies. “But we haven’t visited in forever, and the last thing I want to talk about is cooking.” She stirs the pasta before pulling out a couple of plates. “Tell mewhat has dark circles beneath your eyes and that look of worry in them.”

“It doesn’t matter how much time we spend apart, does it?” I’m incredibly homesick. “The second we’re in the same room, it feels as if a day hasn’t passed.”

“I agree. I think we can go so long without talking because we genuinely love each other. We know nothing will ever come between us.” I continue to fight tears.

She serves two heaping plates and sets one before me before she sits down on my right and picks up her fork. “Dig in.” She takes her first bite before me and sighs.

“I don’t mind bragging. This is delicious.”

I laugh in delight before my first bite. It’s incredible. “Wow, Audrey. You should be a chef somewhere.” She waves a hand in the air before spearing some lettuce with a tangy dressing mixed in.

“I wouldn’t love it if I had to do it all of the time,” she says with a shrug.

Audrey grew up with money,lotsof money. And she certainly loves some of the finer things in life, but she doesn’t flaunt her wealth. Her money allows her to do whatever she wants, though. She lives off her trust fund, and if she is careful, she won’t have to work a day in her life. She’s always told me it’s boring to not work, so she does odd jobs to keep life interesting. She’s been everything: a waitress, a customer service representative, and she’s even flung fish on the docks. She doesn’t think she’s too good for any of it.

We spend a few moments eating before we continue talking. I try to figure out how to start this conversation, and she knows me well enough to give me the time I need. It’s one more reminder why she’s always been my best friend.

A few minutes pass while I stuff my mouth so I won’t have to speak, and Audrey finally clasps a hand over mine and forces me to look at her. She can see right through me.

“I’m being patient, but you have to talk to me. What’s going on?”

I pick up my wine glass and sip. “I’m a truly horrible person,” I finally confess.

Audrey’s eyes widen, but then she smiles and laughs. She sips her wine and chuckles more. Placing her hand on mine to make sure I know she’s serious, she says, “I guarantee you, you’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. Nothing you could’ve done would make you a horrible person.”

I gulp and decide to go for it. “I cheated on Paul.”

The words are out, hanging in the air. Audrey tries to mask her surprise, but she fails miserably. She blinks several times, then refills our glasses and pulls me from my seat. We’ve eaten as much as we’re going to.

“We need to bemuchmore comfortable for this conversation,” Audrey insists.

We move to her living room where she has plush white leather furniture complemented with black tables. It’s very chic and urban at the same time. It isn’t my taste, but it suits her.

“Spill all,” she says as soon as we’re comfortable on the couch, facing each other. “And don’t you dare leave a single thing out.”

I take a deep breath. “I started a new job a couple of months ago, and I met my boss in the elevator... well, technically at the park first, but then in the elevator...” I pause and take another drink.

“At the park?” She pauses. “And an elevator? Can you get a little more cliché?”

“Do you want me to tell you the story?” I ask pointedly. She laughs.

“Yes, I desperately do.”

I nod and spill it all, our first kiss, our second kiss, our serious making out in Vegas. When I’m done, my glass is empty, and she refills it. I wait for her to call me a tramp, a terrible person, a vixen, anything. I should know better.

Her eyes widen. “Wait! I remember that man,” she says. I nod. She was with me the first time I saw Mason. I was flustered as the two of us walked away that day. But then I was comforted in the fact that I’d never see him again. It was a freak thing, and it was over.

“Yes, same man,” I admit. She’s only quiet for a moment as she looks at me, trying to put all of the pieces of the puzzle together.

“You haven’t had sex with him yet?” she asks, confused.

“We haven’t hadactualsex yet, but we might as well have.”

“No, darling, sex is sex,” Audrey insists. “And you’re also going to tell me what’s going on with Paul.”

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