The Boyfriend Designer - Christopher Harlan Page 0,75

ran away and pretended like I didn’t exist.”

I howl when he says that. That’s not a metaphor. I howl as loud as I can so everyone looks over and he gets the message loud and clear. “Gee, I wonder why I ran away and tried to forget.”

“Are you serious? You didn’t even give me a chance to explain. And if not for me having to wait for the cops come drag that crazy bitch away I would have chased you down and told you exactly what happened. But you didn’t give me that chance, did you? After everything I thought we had.”

The cops? “What are you talking about?”

“Doesn’t matter, now, does it? I’m an ex, right? I shouldn’t have to explain myself anymore. But thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt.”

He storms off. And I don’t mean walks quickly. He storms off like an angry kid, and I’m more confused than ever. Why would he be mad with me? And what is he talking about with the cops?

Sabina walks back to the table. “Why is everyone staring over here?”

“Long story,” I tell her. “You were gone a while.”

“A while? I was gone for like two minutes.”

“Yeah. Well a lot happened in two minutes then.”

“Are you gonna tell me?”

I’m gonna need another glass of wine.

Make that two.

Hell, after all, I think I’ll be taking the whole damn bottle.

Shoshana—The Next Day

“Sexiest Asshole Ever.”

I wake up in a shit mood with a bad headache.

I guess I should have expected that after a loud, public confrontation with my ex who just happens to be one of the most famous influencers at this convention. That, and of course my three extra glasses of wine with dinner that I gulped (again) while telling Sabina the whole story. I hope I made sense.

I passed out in my clothes and now I have to get myself presentable to meet the fans. I take a hot shower and get ready. I’m still seeing red from last night—a weird mix of being angry at him, being uncomfortable at the whole situation being so pubic (even though I was the one who howled, but whatever), and not totally getting what he was trying to tell me. I don’t want to see him again, but that’s going to be unavoidable.

I finish getting ready and give myself that internal pep-talk as I step into the hallway of the hotel with my stuff.

You got this Shosh!

Everyone loves The Boyfriend Designer!

Screw Conor!

You don’t have to see him if you don’t want!

Just do your own thing and avoid. . .

“Shoshana?” I hear from behind me.

Oh. Fuck. You. Internal Dialogue Me. You’ve got to be kidding me.

I turn to Conor standing over me. You know the deal. Green eyes, great smell, tall as ever, blah blah blah, sexiest asshole ever. “Do you seriously want to continue last night right here in the hallways at 8 o’clock? Can’t we just avoid each other like normal people?”

His whole energy is much calmer than it was last night. Maybe he just needed to yell a little and get it off his chest. But if he tries that shit again I’m walking away—no howl this time, that was a new low even for me.

“No. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry you saw what you saw.”

Gotta love guys’ apologies. “That was amazing, Conor. I feel so much better.” My sarcasm voice could win an Oscar. He rolls his eyes, which only means I’m going to keep doing it. “You know what, I’m such an idiot for ghosting you when all it took was a simple apology about what I saw. You know what, let’s go back in the room and fuck right now, I’m totally wet and in the mood.”

“Stop.”

“No, for real, I have like fifteen minutes. Plus, you being so sorry is really putting me in the mood.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Stop. Look, I don’t know what you want from me.”

“What I want from you? You seem to be the one who’s approached me twice in twelve hours, not to mention leaving me enough voicemails and texts to easily grant me a restraining order against you. So I think you have the who-wants-something-from-who part backwards.”

“The only thing I’ve ever wanted since you ran out of my apartment was a chance to explain.”

I’m not in the mood for this. Not only do I have to go down and get myself ready to meet fans and sign merch, but I just don’t feel like having the icky feeling