The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,46
can begin to mend.”
I open my mouth to argue, but it’s no use. We’ve been round and round on the subject. He may not be able to touch me anymore, but as long as he owns fifty-one percent of my business, he has one greedy hand in my most intimate place. That’s how he maintains control.
Reggie leaves, and I lock the door. In my bedroom, I pick up my clutch. I have a missed call from the car service. Perfect. If I miss the opportunity to network before the presentation because of my asshole ex-husband, I won’t be happy.
I return the call. “Miss Van Ecken,” a man answers. “Do you still need a ride?”
“Of course I need a ride,” I say. “What, am I supposed to walk?”
“If you like.”
My jaw tingles. I’ve had just about enough of the male species. “Very funny. I wonder if your supervisor will think so too. I’ll be down in five minutes—you’d better be there.”
I hang up the phone, slip it into my clutch, and sink onto my bed. Belatedly, my hands begin to shake. It’s been months since Reggie and I were alone together. Isn’t that enough time for me to have moved on? Why do the wounds Reggie left still feel fresh, even if I don’t love him anymore? I worry they always will be, but I don’t want him back. If I miss him, I don’t know I do. Whenever I catch myself thinking about him, I throw myself into work. The night my lawyer advised we start discussing what assets to let go of to move the divorce along, I stayed up until dawn creating a progress report for our newest client. I didn’t sleep until I wrote my lawyer back and told him to press on. Reggie shouldn’t be allowed to get away with making me feel all the things I did over the course of our marriage—worthless, crazy, objectified, unattractive, dense. He won’t get away with it. Not while I’m able to keep fighting.
With a deep breath, I stand and smooth out my dress. The show must go on—it’s my mantra, always has been. Without the show, what else would I have?
TWELVE
Before I exit the car, I check my makeup one last time, close my compact, and straighten my shoulders. My muscles have been tense since I slid into the backseat. Getting nominated for an award doesn’t excite me like it should. These events have more to do with who’s attending than who’s being honored. When I step out, the world is my stage.
When I get home, I should relax with a bath.
The thought comes out of nowhere, and for the first time since this morning, I smile. Until Andrew, it’d been months since I’d used the tub. I’d forgotten how comforting a bath could be—until Andrew. Andrew. He was exactly what I’d needed when I’d needed it. I barely knew him, but I knew he was different from Reggie. I still don’t trust my judgment entirely, but it never felt like a game with Andrew.
I’m still not sure I should’ve kicked him out. Right now, I’d love a few more hours with him. But the moment I stopped seeing him as a one-night stand and saw him for what he really was—a considerate, sexy man any girl would be lucky to have—I knew it had to end. I’ve learned enough in my thirty-two years to know when that shift occurs.
“What’s happening at the hotel?” the driver asks.
I glance at him in the rearview mirror. I’m not really in the mood to chat, but he looks at me expectantly. “There’s an awards dinner.”
“Oh yeah? Are you nominated?”
“My firm is.”
“Congrats. What for?”
“Ironically, a campaign we did for a kids’ clothing store last year.”
“Why’s that ironic?”
I return my gaze out the window. “Children and I don’t get along. It’s not my account. I didn’t think it’d be the reason for my first nomination.”
He nods. “Children are a pain in the ass. A good pain, though, like the way you feel the day after a good workout. Know what I mean? Or runner’s high. I don’t run, but I’ve heard some people get addicted to it. That’s kind of what kids are like.”
I do know what he means. Bikram yoga can get so intense, I’d cry during each session if I had any fluid left in my body. Yet I attend weekly without fail. “I don’t know,” I say, “but I have a feeling parenthood is a lot more nuanced than that.”