Page 25 of Some Like It Hops

I turn off my phone because, frankly, at this hour, I don’twanta response from him. I don’t want an apology or some bullshit excuse. He wanted to take me out so badly that he didn’t take no for an answer, only to stand me up when it came time for our date? Really? That’s what kind of guy he is? Had it all been a weird game to get back at me for outmaneuvering him where the warehouse was concerned?

Well, screw that. And screw him.

I should have stuck with my initial response.

Oh well. Lesson learned. Griffin might be beautiful to look at, but his pretty face hides an ugly heart… and I want no part of that. I fix my hair. I fix shit when it breaks around my condo.

Hell, I’ve even fixed my car a time or two.

Ido not, however, fix broken men.

Plopping down on the couch, I fire up the television and head straight to my favorite show, clicking on the next episode and settling in for the night.

Tears tingle behind my eyes, and my chest is tight with disappointment and the awful pain of being burned, but I refuse to cry over someone like him.

In standing me up, he did me a favor.

I dodged a bullet.

Just tell that to my aching heart.

I wake up to pounding.

Pounding on my front door.

Pounding inside my head.

So muchpounding.

Sunlight streams in through the window, so it’s morning, I guess. I move to sit up and a flash of pain jolts down my neck from my ear into my shoulder. I groan, slowing my movements and rubbing my neck. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. Great. My body will punish me for that oversight all day.

“I’m coming,” I call as I make my way to the front door.

“Hurry up,” Jo yells from the other side. “I forgot my key.”

Before I can even get the door open all the way, my best friend pushes inside, pausing to look me over. “Good Lord, babe…” She looks around the condo, then whispers, “Is he still here?”

I shake my head and close the door, then shuffle past her and make my way over to the coffeemaker in the kitchen to start the morning ritual. Coffee grounds and water go in… soon the nectar of the gods comes out. Sweet bliss.

“Good. Did I wake you?” There’s an incredulous tone in her voice.

I glance at the clock on the stove. Oh. Jeez, it’s nearly noon. “Wow,” I whisper. “I may have had a bit too much wine last night.”

Jo grabs me by the shoulders and spins me toward her, searching my gaze. “Too much wine…?” Her eyes narrow. “And you’ve been crying.” Her lips close into a fine line and she takes a step backward. “He told you?”

“Told me what?” I lean my butt against the counter and face Josie. “He didn’t even show up.”

Josie’s mouth drops open. “No way.”

I shrug. “Whatever. I’m sure everyone gets stood up once in their lifetime, right? Guess this was my big chance.”

She sits down on a bar stool at my kitchen island, then watches me for a long moment, like she’s weighing something heavy.

“What?” As my brain continues to wake up, slowlyandpainfully, it occurs to me she was pounding on my front door frantically just a few moments ago. “What’s the emergency?” I pause. “And what did you think he told me?”

Josie grimaces, then pulls a magazine from her purse and plops it down on the counter between us.

Griffin stares up at me from the cover. It looks like a professional headshot, with that awkward, forced smile of someone who’s been told to tilt their chin one too many times and just wishes the photoshoot were over—like it’s his LinkedIn bio picture or something. In the bottom, left-hand corner of the page, there’s a circle with a picture of a woman inside it. She doesn’t look familiar. She’s gorgeous, though, so she’s probably one of the many models he’s been rumored to have a penchant for. Whatever. Maybe they were out together last night. Good for them.

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