Page 18 of Love Rescheduled

“Hmm. Gorgeous French men.” Tara contemplated. “Let’s think about this one. In the meantime, you need to keep your date. September thirtieth will be here before you know it. And I’ve been scouring bridal sites for the perfect bridesmaid’s dresses.”

“I would hate to deny you the opportunity of a new dress,” I teased her. “But how can I go out in public ever again?” I made an exception over the weekend only because I loved Jolene so much.

“Nat,” Jolene chimed in. “Josh is big, but he’s not a household name. At least not yet. But I’ve heard rumors about him landing a TV or movie deal.”

My heart dropped. Not sure why. It’s not like I had any hope Josh and I would get back together. But … him being a famous movie or TV star was the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. The last thing I needed in my life was a more famous boyfriend. But that was a moot point because I abhorred him. I probably should abhor him a little more, though. The whole “I stole everything from him” was getting to me. I had been anyone’s everything. I was going to need to watch that video a lot today and stoke the flames of hate.

“Zac mentioned something about Josh being close to landing the biggest deal of his career, and he didn’t want me to screw it up. Like that was even possible. I doubt I’ll ever see Josh again.” I was banking on it, praying for it, whatever I had to do. Being around him was like a dream and a nightmare rolled into one. I swiped a layer of gloss on my lips to finish getting ready.

“Please send him a wedding announcement.” Tara cackled with delight.

I would never do that, especially after the anguish on Josh’s face. And he had spared me his announcement with Camila. Or maybe they never even sent them out.

Unexpectedly, my doorbell rang.

“Wow. Amazon is getting earlier all the time.” I assumed that’s who it was. Who else would come to the door before eight in the morning? Unless Mrs. Pritchard next door needed to borrow an egg or something. It was something Nana and she used to do whenever the occasion arose. I think sometimes she was just lonely. I should make a better effort to check on her.

I took my phone with me so we could continue our conversation for the next few minutes. I had to get off at eight to start work. I would work a couple of hours, take a walking break, and then it was lunch and Alec before I went back to work. It was the beauty of being a freelance editor. This was assuming I could function today. Josh’s humiliation and that video were wreaking havoc on my ability to think straight.

“Let me just grab my package.” I hoped it was the new dish scrubbers I’d ordered. Was it sad how excited I was about the prospect? Probably.

Without even looking out the tiny windows of the door, I opened it, ready to retrieve my delivery. Instead of dish scrubbers, I got the shock of my life.

“Josh,” I spluttered breathlessly, almost dropping my phone.

“What!” I could hear my friends yell.

Josh stood there running a hand through his dark hair, looking as if he hadn’t shaved in a few days, or slept, judging by how red and gritty his eyes were. His Rolling Stones T-shirt looked more than wrinkled, like he’d just driven all night.

“What are you doing here?”

Without an invitation, he opened the screen door, which creaked something awful. “We have some unfinished business to take care of.”

“And what is that?”

He took a moment to peer into my eyes, owning every part of me. “Us, Nat.”

Uh. Say what? I put the phone to my ear. “I’m going to need to call you back,” I said in about five different octaves.

All I could hear on the other end was a bunch of yelling and swearing before I hung up.

Josh walked right in like he owned the place. It was then I noticed he had his old duffel bag slung around his shoulder. He’d stuffed the thing with clothes, which were peeking out of the zipper.

“Did you bring your dirty laundry?” It would be just like him to think he could do his laundry while we argued over whatever he considered to be unfinished business. But why would he bring his laundry all this way? Where had he even come from?

He let the duffel bag drop, a smirk on his face. “I’m staying here.”

I spat out a maniacal laugh. Was he pranking me? “No, you’re not.”

“That’s not very hospitable of you. What would Nana think of your manners?” That was a low blow bringing my beloved grandmother, who adored the stupid man, into it.

“It’s neither here nor there. I didn’t invite you.”

“Like I said, we have some unfinished business. And I’ve been driving since two this morning and I’m tired as hell, so where can I crash?”

I blinked at least a hundred times with the widest eyes possible. His audacity was astounding. Add in that it floored me he had driven all night to come here. That was something he would have done when we were a couple. Not now when … “Are you insane? You mortified me over the weekend. Now you think you can just show up here and invite yourself to stay with me? I abhor you.”

“Going with the next level of hate, are we? Well, here’s a news flash for you: I haven’t exactly had warm and fuzzy feelings for you the last few years. And to answer your question, I am insane. Having the woman you love walk out on you for no damn reason will do that to a guy.”

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