Page 128 of Bad Love

My stomach clenches at Monty’s words. I toss the chip in the trash because the idea of eating has gone from disinteresting torevolting.

"What do you do when you're fucked up over a girl,Monty?"

He sighs. “Nothinghealthy.”

“If I was gonna fix this with yoga and self-reflection, I wouldn’t have come topoker.”

My best friend rubs a hand over his beard. "Fine. You really want to know? I’d throw myself into work. Deal with the shit I can control. Pretend it isn’thappening.”

I stare down my friend, thinking for the first time in a long time that Monty hasn’t had a serious girlfriend for as long as I can remember. I’d always thought running Hunter’s Cross was his calling, but it never occurred to me that he might be throwing himself into that instead ofpeople.

“You can't make her want to be with you,” he goes on. “But you can keep your life from circling the drain so that, when you do feel like living again? Your life’s stillthere."

* * *

Sarabeth's isbusy on Saturday morning, but when I get there fifteen minutes early for our reservation, the hostess seatsme.

"Somewhere private," Irequest.

I look through the glass onto the indoor atrium, checking the messages on my phone and pretending the next hour won’t shape the rest of mylife.

"You wanted to meet before the boardmeeting?"

I look up at the sound of my grandmother's voice. My gut twists as I take in her expression, mostly in case it’s the last time I see it. My grams can be tough across a negotiating table—or the dinner table, for that matter—but she’s always had a kind look I swear is reserved forme.

I don’t think I’ll be getting that look once I finish what I have tosay.

I pull out her chair, and she slides easily into the seat. "I hope you've thought about what I said at theparty."

My neck itches, but I resist the urge to rub it as I sink into my chair. "I have. And I need to tell yousomething."

She lifts abrow.

"I fuckedup."

She doesn'tflinch.

"I said I was running marketing. Until a month ago, I wasn’t. I did the PR and in-front-of-camera stuff. But Deacon was doing the heavy lifting. It was my idea. I only started doing more a month ago because hequit."

I fill in the details before she can sayanything.

Her eyes have sharpened. It’s not her boardroom look, but there’s a wariness that wasn’t there a moment ago. As if she thinks she’s about to beambushed.

Smartwoman.

"Did Montgomery know?" she askscarefully.

"Yes. But he didn'tapprove."

The waitress comes over. "Can I get you something todrink?"

"Tea," Isay.

"Bourbon," says mygrandmother.

"Err—I’m not sure we havebourbon."

"Fine. Coffee. Black as it comes. Logan—" she starts as the waitressdisappears.

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