Chapter 28
LAUREN
O n the flight back to New York, I cried quietly into a tissue while trying to ignore the critical gaze of the Pomeranian across the aisle. The woman holding the tiny dog on her lap ignored my weeping like everyone else in first class. Only the dog was judgmental.
“Boo hoo,” I whispered to myself. “Stop with the self-pity.”
There were wonderful things waiting at home.
Family and friends. My beautiful apartment.
A successful company and a hefty bank account that would allow me to donate to causes and candidates that were working to make a better world.
On top of all that goodness, I now had a renewed love of horseback riding, and the knowledge that, yes, my body still enjoyed sex! These were huge wins.
Matthew’s face drifted through my mind and melancholy crept in again, along with a flood of guilt.
How could I be anything but grateful for my life?
If Matthew and I didn’t end up together, there were still thousands of single men to date in New York.
I couldn't imagine anyone would measure up to him, but I needed to stay optimistic, just like we told our clients to do after a breakup. Had we broken up? Were we ever really a couple? There hadn’t been enough time to figure all of that out.
While I was at the airport, I received a text from Freddy saying that in the morning he was meeting with a reporter to tell his side of our story.
It was his last ditch grab for a piece of Ms. Match, and I didn’t even bother responding to his message.
Tempest and I were sending our final offer to his lawyer.
If he didn’t take it, we would go to court.
When Freddy’s story was published, reporters would hunt me down again, and I’d face them head on this time.
There was no more running away. According to Matthew, I was a badass, so I could handle the paparazzi.
But if I was such a badass, why was I letting Freddy and the media publicly define who I was?
I thought of Ella standing on the pool table with her fire extinguisher.
Gigi galloping across the meadow on Loki.
The older ladies of the smutty book club, laughing as they took a moonlight dip in the hot springs. What would they do in my situation?
With a rather loud, undignified honk, I blew my nose, opened my laptop and started typing.
My fingers flew over the keyboard as my personal story flowed out of me.
I wrote about spending years in an unhappy marriage for the good of everyone else; finally separating when my children were out of the house; and deciding to pretend Freddy and I were still a couple to protect my company and my pride.
Because that’s what it came down to—I didn’t want to tell people I’d failed at marriage.
Sure, I’d blamed societal expectations and protecting our brand, but ultimately I didn’t want to admit that my love story, which began so beautifully, didn’t have a happy ending.
The last lines of my essay were the most bittersweet and exhilarating to compose?—
With all of this talk about relationships coming to their natural (or way past due) conclusions, please don’t misconstrue my meaning—I still believe in romantic love.
I’m quite a fan of monogamous sex, and I believe matchmaking is a fantastic way to meet someone you’d never otherwise come across.
Deep human connection is crucial to our wellbeing—to our very souls.
I’m back out there myself, dipping my nervous toes into the dating pool, knowing that I’m perfectly imperfect, and that’s (finally) good enough for me.
As I reread my essay, I made a decision.
The next morning, probably around the time of Freddy’s interview, I’d offer my personal essay to Celebrity magazine as an exclusive.
I couldn’t help but delight that these two events would coincide.
Celebrity didn’t have to pay me a cent for my story, but if they wanted to run it, they’d have to agree not to publish Freddy’s interview.
If they rejected my offer, which I doubted they would, I’d publish my story somewhere else.
“Excuse me,” I said to a passing flight attendant, “may I have a glass of champagne? I have something to celebrate.”
He grinned at me. “Congratulations! I’ll bring some right over.” Everyone was always so nice in first class.
As we flew over western Pennsylvania, I sipped my champagne from a flute, wondering why anyone would order beer when bubbly was available. Yes, I’d fallen for Matthew Hart and his ranch, but I still had a whole lot of Manhattan in me, too.
* * *
My airplane celebration was only the first of several that week.
The second victory occurred when Freddy and I finally signed divorce papers that did not include giving him a portion of my company.
He still won a sizable alimony settlement, but some things could not be helped.
The following morning, he received a call from his contact at Celebrity saying they’d decided not to run his interview.
They were going with my personal essay instead.
I wish I could have listened in on that call and seen his face, but knowing it happened would have to suffice.
With my divorce finally settled, Tori and I were free to sign our syndication deal.
It turned out that streaming companies got nervous when you made them wait, and then they increased their offers.
Even with my alimony payments, I was financially set for life.
My divorce also made it possible for me to date publicly, and I’d already been flirted with by a man I met at my brother’s dinner party.
Life was going well, except for one thing.
I had received zero phone calls from Matthew.
We’d exchanged text messages, and he’d sent me some beautiful flowers and a pretty postcard from the ranch telling me how much he missed me, but I wanted to hear his voice and invite him to New York for a visit.
Tori told me to give it another day or two, but I feared this was the beginning of the end. The distance would be too much.
By Friday afternoon, I was exhausted and ready to spend my evening with a glass of red wine and Netflix. My assistant, Jaden, had different ideas. We were having our end-of-week meeting in my office, curled up at opposite ends of my couch with our laptops balanced on our legs.
“You need to return a call to Tempest,” he said, “and then you have a dinner appointment with someone who wants to discuss a possible business venture. Your sister set that up.”
“Who’s the dinner meeting with?” Tori hadn’t mentioned this to me.
Jaden splayed out his palms. “I don’t know. She told me to put it on your calendar. Seven o’clock at The River Cafe.”
I dipped my chin and stared at him. “Jaden. The River Cafe? This sounds like a date situation.”
“She called it a dinner meeting.”
I sighed, my skin itching with irritation at my sister’s deception.
Conveniently, she was offsite for the day, with meetings in the morning and “working from home” scheduled in the afternoon.
More likely, she was hiding from me so I couldn’t accuse her of meddling in my love life.
She was definitely sending me on a blind date with some guy she thought would get my mind off of Matthew.
“I hope this guy knows there’s a dress code.” The River Cafe, which was on the East River with stunning views of Manhattan, required a collared shirt and a jacket for men. “How did she even get a reservation? They’re usually booked out for weeks or months.”
“Must have used her star power,” Jaden said. “It could be a real business meeting. You never know.”
“I hope so.”
“Although she said to tell you to wear something sexy.”
I glared at him and got a cheeky grin in return. “You left that little detail out until the end, huh? You’re in on this.”
“I recommend that dress you wore the night of the infamous Jentori party,” he said.
“Reclaim it. You ate in that dress.” This was Gen Z slang for looking hot, which I appreciated because Jaden was not one to hold back his honest opinions on my fashion choices.
Maybe that dress did need a new story, even if it turned out to be a humorous one.
“I don’t love surprises.”
He cocked his head and gave me side-eye. “What else do you have going on tonight?”
He had a point. I wasn’t about to admit that I’d planned on ordering some new underwear online. Getting naked with Matthew had taught me several things, including that I needed newer, sexier undergarments. Part of me was still hoping I got to put on that underwear for him.
“Fine, I’ll go, but only because it’s rude to stand someone up and also because I’m curious now. Please schedule a meeting with my sister for tomorrow morning. I have a few choice words I’d like to say to her.”
Jaden’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, I’m sure you will.”