Page 74 of Just Not That Into Billionaires

“Fine. You got it in yourheadand you went with it.”

“It’s true,” I say.

She crosses her arms and looks out over the class. “She did say you’re the most single-minded person ever.”

“She said that?” I ask, surprised.

“Oh, yeah,” Kelsey says. “She said that once you’re on a thing, you hate being torn off from it. Like really hate that, and you scare people a little, but they don’t get that it’s just your passion. Apparently people have you really wrong in many ways.”

Francine said that? To her friends? “Wow,” I say.

“Yeah, she thinks you’re so misunderstood,” she says. “But apparently she understands you.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Kelsey says. “Furthermore, contrary to public opinion, you have a sense of humor; in fact, Francine says you’re hilarious. I don’t know if I see it, but…” She makes a weird face. A new song starts and she runs back out there and picks up the class from Francine.

Francine sits on the floor across the room, clapping to the music while the girls do some sort of balancing exercise under Kelsey’s direction.

She really said all of that about me? Is this more proof that I need to update my perception of her?

It’s not easy.

Distrust of Francine is embedded so deeply in me, it’s a reflex, no different than pulling my hand away from a hot flame, except the hot flame of Francine is made of pain and humiliation. It might be a decade old, but the memory is as acute as if it had been yesterday.

Reflexes exist to protect you. But it doesn’t mean that they always do. It doesn’t mean that they’re even needed.

Francine bends down to talk to one of the girls. She looks tired. She’s probably hungry. We should have dinner after this. A nice dinner like a normal couple—not that that’s what I’m trying to be. That window is shut.

Still.

Mac has his hands full with all of these unexpected guests but I have a phone, don’t I? Both Francine and I need to eat.

Before I can think better of it, I’m ordering up a whole feast. Back at the Beau Cirque buffet table, she was a big one for loading her plate up with coconut shrimp. She seemed to like baked brie things and tofu spring rolls. It’s not a very thematically coherent meal, but those are foods she liked, so I order them up. Of course I have bubbly water on hand already. I arrange it all on my phone while I’m standing there watching her clap.

I’ve been viewing her as a woman who’d use and discard people, not caring for anybody but herself. Not seeing anybody but herself.

Spending this time with her over the last two weeks, something’s been shifting. And the way she is with the kids, and the kind things that she said about me, it’s all chipping away at the picture I had of her.

Yes, shedidwalk out without so much as a word or even a goodbye ten years ago, refusing to answer so much as a text. She discarded me after using me to heal her bruised ego.

But maybe she’s changed.Maybe…

Something tightens in my chest at the thought of it. Can I believe this new Francine? What does it mean to let go of my old image of her? Why is it so fucking unsettling?

Of course, it means I’m the asshole for putting her through all of this. It means I might be falling for her again. It means I’m putting my heart on the table again. It means I’ll be like that kid again.

This dark feeling grinds inside of me. I’ll never go back there. Not ever.

I turn and get out of there. I can’t watch class anymore.

For now, we’ll have dinner.

Eighteen

Francine

I getout of the shower to find a text from Benny. Dinner is served.

---