Page 76 of Stacked
Ghosting me like this was one big red flag. Telling Javier to be this elusive was another.
So fine.
I’m a big girl. I can get the message.
I pulled my purse closer to my body, thankful for the large leather strap, which I now held like a life preserver. I’d been here before though, and I reminded myself of that as I worked out what I was about to say. Modern men were all the same, and Robert fell right into that mold. They were all spineless on some level, all devoid of basic decency, all prone to simply going “no contact” instead of manning up and telling the truth.
“Tell him I said hello. That’s all.” I squeezed my handbag a little tighter. “And thanks for giving me the preview tour. I really appreciate it.”
We said a few more meaningless sentences before I was out the door, back in my car, and alone again.
And in so many ways, right back where I started—a single woman in a small town with no romantic prospects. I also had the pleasure of running a long-standing bookstore, so I couldn’t really complain. Robert had showed me what it was like to feel special—what exceptional sex was like—and I could hold on to that and hopefully find it again one day. Life would move on again, and even though at times I felt stuck, I would survive.
I was still mulling that over as Morgan’s bachelorette party kicked off—an explosion of excitement and joy and hope. As happy as I felt for her, I didn’t feel any of those emotions for myself.
And that was perhaps the worst part of my current reality.
“We’re getting bottle service,” I told the server at Hyde, the bar hosting the second leg of Morgan’s bachelorette party. “Make it two bottles of Ketel One, please.”
“Coming right up.” The woman typed the order on her iPad and motioned toward the champagne we already had chilling in a bucket near the large couch I reserved for the night. “Anyone need a refill?”
“I’ll take one,” Morgan slurred.
She was already tipsy, and I was on my way. In fact, I planned for us to live it up for the next twenty-four hours. We started out the evening at the 21c Hotel downtown in a large suite on the top floor with a view that overlooked the rest of Cincinnati’s main business district. I’d splurged on charcuterie and light bites as the rest of Morgan’s wedding party arrived for the evening. Then, we dined in the private room at Metropole, the hotel’s beloved restaurant on the main floor. Now, we were supposed to dance the night away at the newest bar and nightclub in the city.
It had been a great night, and most importantly, Morgan was happy. She deserved it—especially after how supportive she’d been this summer with helping create the float and filling in at the store.
“I love you,” I told her. “You’re such a fantastic best friend.”
She pulled me in for a sloppy hug, the kind women gave each other all the time, the kind that cemented what the words meant—a platonic connection that was on a different level than one we’d ever have with boyfriends or husbands. “I love you too.” The DJ switched to a Daft Punk remix and Morgan pulled me onto the platform next to the VIP area. “Oh my God, I love this song.”
“I do too.”
We danced for a few minutes, swaying and stepping to the beat as others from Morgan’s wedding party and the golf club joined in. Soon, our group spilled out of the VIP area and onto the main dance floor, which was filled with a mix of twentysomethings, college students, young professionals, and “pretty people” dressed in the latest and most coveted fashions. Hyde wasn’t a place I would have chosen, but Morgan wanted a glamorous and exciting night, one that would set the tone for her wedding in just a few weeks. It was easy to get lost in the fun, though, and I did.
Until I felt a firm tap on my shoulder.
“Hey,” Robert said as I whirled around and faced him.
Frowning, I motioned toward Morgan’s bachelorette group. “Oh. Robert. What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you.”
I blanched in a flash of shock.What the hell? “How’d you know I was here?”
“Morgan tagged the bar on her Instagram story, like, an hour ago. I took a chance.”
“Okay, stalker.”
He laughed. “That’s a joke, right?”
“No.” I straightened, hoping it seemed like it didn’t bother me that he was here. “But... as you can see, this is a big night for her.”
“Yep.” He angled toward me, then leaned close to my ear. “Have you been drinking, Anya?”
I recoiled and stepped farther away from him. “It’s a bachelorette party. That’s what peopledoat these kinds of things.”
“Do you want to dance?”
