25. Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
I woke up the next morning with an actual hangover and a crying hangover. My eyes could barely open. Cucumber-infused eye patches were not enough to brighten them up. I floated into work in a daze, surviving on coffee and ibuprofen.
If Beau was a lie, then this funk could be a lie too. I selected Perry on my phone and sent him a text.
Actually my plans fell through :) Want to talk business over drinks tonight?
The three dots pulsed immediately. He read it and was considering an answer. Then nothing. Shit, shitting, shit. I guess I was only alluring to Perry when I had been Beau’s fuckee. The universe sent the message out. Saoirse Hooper is a Bag of Shit!
Ten minutes later, ding! I got a text message.
See you at Vine and Spirits at 7
That’s where Beau and I went after the book signing. And he had the audition today. A part of me worried I’d sent him off his game with an ill-timed breakup, but we weren’t exactly together. The other part wondered if frauds even had feelings. He did look sad when he left, but that was acting.
How does one get ready for cocktails when they feel like shit? They choose materials that feel like pajamas but look high-end. That’s how I ended up in a jersey knit fit and flare dress and a cardigan with squirrels stitched all over it. Again, not one of my designs. No amount of eye makeup gave my cried-out, prune-feeling eyes a rested and happy appearance.
Perry, like Chris, showed up looking like he was about ready to captain a ship. Claire had a type .
He pulled out my bar stool for me. “I’ve seen you around the gym. You’re always with that personal trainer. It looks like the sessions are really paying off.”
I forced a smile and took off my squirrel cardigan, fishing for more compliments. “I’d recommend him but there’s a chance he’ll be moving to a different gym.”
“Maybe we can work out together.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I wished I could bring out a slideshow presentation to show Perry how he had the best way of causing my wounds to fester. Luckily, the bartender came to take our drink orders before I screamed. Exhausted, I ordered the espresso martini as a pick me up.
Perry chuckled, sounding nervous. “That caffeine would keep me up at night.”
I needed the caffeine to feel alive. “C’mon, don’t you want to stay up all night?” I schmoozed using one of Beau’s lines.
“I’m coaching kid’s soccer tomorrow, and I’d hate to do that groggy. I’ll keep things simple with a pilsner. Have you been to the Hopsy and Flopsy Brewery?”
I helped that brewery print a whole bunch of items for a promotional booth during Oktoberfest. None of the free samples they offered me registered as remarkable, just fizzy, foamy, beer-tasting beer. “I printed banners for them.” I hoped to turn the conversation to business after my bad flirtation fell flat. I sipped my martini and rubbed my knee, longing for the playful nudge I’d get from Beau at this point.
“Ah yes, The Mighty Pen. I looked at the books. It’s not really the finances that are Tina’s issue. She wants out of the business. If I keep you and hire a few part-timers, I’d recoup the amount of debt I’d get into in no time.” He took a long series of chugs from his beer and sighed. “But I lied. I said I wanted to talk about business, but that isn’t true.”
I tucked my hair behind my ear and forced a smile. Maybe I’d finally get the ego boost I was seeking.
Perry reached inside his blazer and brought out a yellow envelope folded in half. “The law firm that settled the divorce didn’t do all the research I demanded. I hired a private eye.”
The blood in my face dropped to my toes. “Why would you do something like that?”
“Because they denied it, and they made out of the whole thing unscathed, waltzing around town as if they’re frickin’ Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively. They get to be happy ? Shouldn’t they have to feel an iota of the misery they put us through?” Perry practically shook as he fidgeted with the seal of the envelope. He had printed a stack of screenshots.
The sip on my martini turned into a full-blown gulp. The bartender took that as a cue to offer another one. Please .
“They said they never cheated. That the high school reunion took them by surprise.” He pounded his finger in the middle of the screenshots. “My private eye was able to find direct messages off social media.”
My stomach churned. Not because this completely reshaped how I viewed Chris and Claire, but because the screenshots invaded their privacy, regardless of how someone claimed we gave up privacy using social media. Perry could pile thousands of DMs that documented the start of their nefarious affair, but would it change where I was at this point? Did it change the roommate situation our love had faded into? My indifference shriveled me on the inside, taking someone with the strength of Beau to get me to open up and feel. Maybe I could finagle a discount on rent from my landlord/ex with some salacious info, but I didn’t want to relive the inside of law firms and the paperwork. Then the real victim of this rehashing flashed into my mind, Claire and Perry’s kid.
“Does Maverick know?” I asked .
“That his mother chose your husband over our family? Not yet.”
I wanted to wring Perry’s neck. Don’t say that to your kid. Don’t vilify his mom like that. I might not like how Claire and Chris began, if I was going to give scanning those printed screen shots an ounce of room in my life, but Maverick deserved to be free of the bullshit.
“Actually, I cheated first.”
Beer foam flew from Perry’s lips. He continued to sputter.
“Yup, with the personal trainer you saw me with. I joined that gym and couldn’t keep my hands off his young, muscular body. Chris tried to work it out after I confessed the affair. But, no, I could not stop. Chris didn’t bring it up in the divorce proceedings because he’s a good one. Those DMs, which I’ve seen, would be a guy just trying to break through his loneliness with an old friend.”
Perry sighed and stared at the streaks of beer at the bottom of his glass. “You started it.”
“Shamelessly. And if we go through more hoopla with my spanky, choke-happy laundry airing, I might lose a housing situation.”
“I wouldn’t want to put you through that. But an affair? Really, Sir? ”
“Have you seen Beau Bishop?” Images of sexy Beau appeared in my memory, the muscles, the fit of his bike shorts, his warmth underneath me. The sexy images bled into the quiet moments, the way he kissed the top of my head when he told me I could be a good mom. The way he helped me break through my fear and get a signed copy from Preeti. The way he joined me on my smut and face mask nights. Sure, it was a lie; a lie that lifted me, so I wasn’t some bitter crone trying to focus on how I was victimized by the past. I finished my espresso martini and paid for the drinks. “The best revenge, Perry, is being happy.”
And I left the bar for home. In the comfort of my pajamas, in layers of moisturizer, I opened a fresh new book of smut, living my best life. I made it past one description of the book’s love interest—flat, plane of a stomach—and I threw it across my bed.
I missed Beau already.