Prologue #2
But I fixated on the water and slowly lifted the box, tilting it until one by one, every reminder I’d had of the man I thought I was going to marry started falling out of it.
A sense of liberation swept over me and I tilted the box some more, not stopping until absolutely all of it fell free in a rush of memories and unkept promises.
There was the beer mug with our faces printed on it that he’d had made at some festival he’d bought us tickets to at a time when he hadn’t even been bothering to pay for his own toothpaste.
The boxers. A cheap porcelain mold of our entwined hands.
His ratty gym towel. A Batman mask he’d worn to Halloween one year and a ceramic cat he’d bought me when I’d brought up the subject of having a baby.
As it all tumbled out into the churning water below and disappeared, I felt freer than I had in a long time.
I whooped, lifting my head and feeling tears sting my eyes.
A smile spread my lips. Unfortunately, the act of lifting my head also meant catching a glimpse of the traffic—and the cop car switching lanes to get to us.
“Oh shit,” I yelled above the din of the engines. “The cabbie was right. We need to go. Now!”
Lacey laughed. “They’ll never take me alive!”
She took off at a run. Jenna was right behind her and they let out squealing shouts of laughter. I dashed along the sidewalk after them, never having been so grateful for Saturday morning traffic in this part of town. The cops were still stuck behind dozens of vehicles with no place to go.
By the time they were far out of sight, my lungs were burning and my muscles were aching, but we were free. I checked that we were in the clear before I slowed, wiping sweat off my brow.
“We lost them, guys,” I said.
Lacey and Jenna stopped running too, both of them immediately doubling over to rest their hands on their knees. It took a minute before any of us could breathe again, but once we could, we all started laughing.
“That was insane,” Lacey wheezed between peals of laughter. “I can’t believe we just outran the cop. In heels.”
Jenna straightened up and brought a hand to her lower back. “Who knew being a criminal required so much cardio?”
“They might still come looking for us, though,” Lacey said. “We should probably get off the street. Dye our hair. Burn these clothes.”
“How about lunch and cocktails instead?” I was still catching my breath but I couldn’t deny the exhilaration shooting through my veins. “I’m buying.”
Thankfully, I’d grabbed my handbag on the way out of my apartment and I hadn’t dropped it on our mad dash from the law.
Less than fifteen minutes later, we were sitting in a restaurant Todd and I had come to all the time.
In fact, my ex’s scent was all over my favorite spots across the whole damn city.
Lacey smiled at me over the top of her White Russian. “How did that feel? You ready to let go of the past and start focusing on the future yet?”
I hadn’t done anything that blatantly misdemeanor-worthy since freshman year of high school—if it hadn’t been even longer than that.
Corporate adrenaline was more my speed these days, the thrill of landing a big client and producing for them, but dumping that asshole’s shit into the river had been liberating.
“I’m ready for the future, baby!” I whisper-screamed, tossing my head back and doing a little shimmy. “God, I can’t believe we did that.”
“I can.” Lacey was smirking at me when I finally lowered my chin and looked at them again. “We needed to do something drastic to get you ready for what’s waiting for you in Texas, and it sure won’t be some pretty-faced city-boy who’s never had dirt under his fingernails.”
I chuckled but gave my head a firm shake.
“Nah-uh. No way. There are a lot of things waiting for me in Texas, but none of them are going to have a dick attached. I’m going to be all work, all the time for a long time before I ever even think about getting involved with someone again.
” I paused before I added, “But when I do, you’re damn right he’s going to be super manly.
Rugged. He’ll have calluses on his hands and he won’t be scared to grab my hair a little when we’re in bed. ”
“That’s a great idea,” Lacey said suddenly, straightening up and immediately grabbing her purse.
I frowned. “What? Having your hair pulled in bed?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes at me, suppressing a tiny smile. “Well, that’s a great idea too. It’s fun. You really should try it, but I was talking about making a list of all the things you want in your new boyfriend. Let’s do it.”
I scoffed. “Why? I’m not getting involved with anyone for a long time. I was dead serious about that. Besides, I’ll grant you that Todd was a pretty boy through and through, but if I make a list of all the things I really want in a man, I can guarantee that I’ll be single forever.”
Jenna brought her glass to her mouth in an attempt to hide the grin on her lips. “It’s a good thing you love your career so much, then.”
I winked at her. “Amen to that, sister.”
“Pity your career can’t grab your hair when you’re in bed,” she teased, chuckling as she glanced at Lacey. “Just make the list, Liv. What harm can possibly come of it?”
I sighed, but when Lacey slid a pen across the table to me, I decided that I’d play. Even if only to remind myself what the standard was if I ever met some other loser.
Nodding as I uncapped the pen, I pulled a restaurant napkin over and carefully started writing my list on the back of it.
- Must be Down To Earth
- Naturally Funny
- Family oriented – but not a Momma’s Boy
- Good with his Hands
- Can Build Things
- Provides Well
After thinking it over for a beat and realizing that those were the most important attributes, I popped the cap back on the pen and took a long sip of my Mojito. “I’ll never find that man, ladies. He doesn’t exist, and that’s the end of it.”
Lacey snatched the napkin closer and both of my friends pored over it for a beat. Lacey glanced up at me. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. A good ol’ Texas boy might check off some of the items on this list.”
I cringed. “A country boy? No, thank you.”
It was never going to happen, and now that my impossible list was down on paper, I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to matter if some man in Houston managed to tick off a few of those items. No one would ever check them all, and I’d just guaranteed that I was going to be single forever.
And this is why I need to go home and pack my vibrator, I thought. Mr. Perfect didn’t exist, and I was done waiting for a knight in shining armor to prove me wrong. Or should I say cowboy in plaid?
Pass.