Love at 11 - By Mari Mancusi Page 0,52

what about what you said to me?” I spat out, not having the power to just get up and walk away, as my common sense strongly advised. “You said you were crazy about me. Just hoping to get in my pants, maybe?” My voice cracked with rage. “Nice. Real nice.”

I felt sick. Cheap. Used. Not the Madonna. Total, 100 percent whore. Thank God I hadn’t slept with him again. Not that it really mattered. Sex was just a physical act. The ache in my heart was much more serious.

“Maddy, calm down. I meant everything I said last night. It’s just that I shouldn’t have said it—do you see the difference?” He sighed. Deeply. “I can’t even tell you how much you’ve come to mean to me over these last couple weeks. You’re delightful, funny, sweet—I could go on and on. And I don’t want to lose you, either. But at the same time ...I can’t keep dragging you down with me. I’m trying not to be selfish here. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry. I wish things were different. But they’re not. And I feel terrible for leading you on in the first place. Making you fall for me.”

That did it. Fury slammed through my stomach. “Get off your high horse, asshole,” I cried, leaping up from the bed. “You think I’ve fallen for you? You’ve got to be fucking crazy!” I started laughing, realized my laughter made me sound semi psychotic. At that point I didn’t really care. “You know, Jennifer can have you! Not that she’d probably want you if she knew what a bastard you are! You go and cheat on her, and then expect to just walk down the aisle three months later. What a keeper!”

Jamie looked beaten. Truly beaten. Half of me wanted to go over and hug him and tell him everything was okay; the other, more sensible half, wanted to beat him to a pulp.

“What a prize you are.” I continued my rampage, settling for mental brutality over physical. “You said she was embarrassed by you? Well, I don’t blame her. You’re a burnt-out has-been. Pathetic. A real nothing. I wouldn’t marry you for all the handbags in Prada. And neither should she. Of course, she doesn’t know better, poor thing.”

“You’re not going to tell her, are you?” he asked, a scared expression on his face.

I drew in a breath. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. But here he was, not concerned that he’d hurt my feelings. Just worried that he might get caught. It would serve him right. Leave him with nothing.

“Well, well. That’s for me to know and you to find out,” I threatened. And with that, I grabbed my shoes and made my exit, slamming the door behind me.

FROM THE DESK OF

THE CALLA VERDA ROADHOUSE

Dear Jennifer,

You don’ t really know me, but I’ve slept with your future husband. I wanted to write and tell you what a bastard he is.

Jen,

Remember how we shared dinner last week? Well, that’s not all we’ve shared…

Jennifer,

You know how some men have the Madonna/whore complex? Ever wonder who is Jamie’s whore?

Jennifer,

You don’ t like him anyway, so how about you go marry someone else and leave Jamie to me? I think Heath Ledger might be single again…

Hi Jen,

I’m in love with your husband.

Goodbye Cruel Word,

This may be my last will and testament after having my heart broken by an asshole named Jamie Hayes.

Chapter Eleven

“Jodi!” I cried, overjoyed, when at seven p.m. on the dot my bestest friend in the whole wide world walked through the doorway of the Calla Verda roadhouse.

The owner, a plump, motherly type with graying hair and kind blue eyes, had taken pity on me when I’d rushed in a few hours earlier, all tear-streaked and bawling. She’d cooked me lunch—didn’t even charge me—and I’d told her my story. She in turn told me that all men were bastards and that her third husband had beat her to a pulp before cheating on her, which actually made me feel worse instead of better. She even gave me some stationary to write Jennifer a letter, but after several attempts, I couldn’t bring myself to sell Jamie out.

“Hi, Maddy,” Jodi said, sliding into the booth across from me. “I got here as soon as I could.”

“I’m so happy to see you,” I gushed, not being able to help myself. Then I burst into a fresh set of tears.

Jodi glanced around. The bar