between projects right now.”
It’s a better line than, I’m taking a break from work. I feel like that would only worry people more, because my job has been my spouse for the last decade. But how do you explain that you feel you’ve ridden the roller coaster of a career to its end? Because that’s how I feel. Once upon a time, I thought I had the sickest position in the game. Hacking or coding for whoever I wanted, wherever I wanted. Using the skills that came so easy to make massive amounts of money … the kind I could never even have dreamed of as a kid.
But over the past two years, I’ve become resigned. My work doesn’t bring me excitement anymore. Honestly, the last time I got any joy or spark from what I do was when Forrest asked me to consult on his cyber thief case.
So, I was taking some time off, until I could find something that inspired me again. I’d saved enough money, and I was staying for free with Presley and Keaton. Working my ass off for ten years … yeah, I think I could afford to take a sabbatical.
“And you … just came off a breakup, right?” Penelope’s voice is cautious and delicate.
I assume Presley told them about my dating woes, if not an expanded version of the story. Everyone was probably wondering why I was here, anyway.
“Yep. It was pretty brutal. Found the bastard cheating on me, in our bed. With two women.” That age-old practice of talking shit about men who’ve wronged us felt like an appropriate activity right now.
Plus, I hadn’t gotten to vent much, and after rampaging through my phone two days ago, deleting any evidence of him, it felt good to talk about.
“Oh, no he didn’t! What a prick! Has he seen you? You’re like Minka Kelly’s younger, hotter sister.” Penelope snaps her fingers as if she’s about to fight Yanis on my behalf.
That makes me snort. “First off, Minka Kelly is already young and hot, way more so than me. Unfortunately, he had seen me, for a year and a half while we were in a relationship. The fucking Greek asshole. Claimed it was the European way.”
“Language …” Lily scolds me, eyes flicking to Molly and Ames.
I cover my mouth. “Whoops, sorry.”
“Ignore her, my boys hear more cursing from their mother than they ever will on the school bus.” Penelope rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I hope you slit his tires.”
Shaking my head, I sigh. “I wish, but all he owns is a donkey and a moped. There was no need for a car where we lived. I did slap him in the face, though.”
“Atta girl.” Presley claps twice. “He deserves to fall all the way down those Santorini steps and right into the ocean.”
“Oh, the bloody fantasies I’ve had about injuring him.” My hands clasp together like I’m plotting his demise.
In truth, I could always feel something like that coming from Yanis. As much as I want to claim I was blindsided, I wasn’t. He’s a Greek artist, famous for being the next big thing in impressionist painting. From the moment I met him, I’d been swept up in his robust attitude for life, love, and good food. He gave me the grand tour of Greece, made me fall into bed with him, and I was fascinated ever since. But that little voice in the back of my head, and heart, told me there was something wrong. I knew I shouldn’t have fully trusted him, and in the weeks leading up to his indiscretion, I’d already been thinking about how we were falling out of love. The spark wasn’t there anymore, it had died out just like all the other affairs I’d sworn were epic love sagas and would never end.
This is how I was with men. I fell in love in two seconds, dove head first into a relationship and living together without a backward glance, and ended up royally fucking burned when it all came crashing down on top of my head.
“Well, Fawn Hill might be small, but there are a few eligible bachelors if you want us to set you up,” Lily suggests cheerfully.
My fingers come up in a X. “No, thanks. I’m swearing off men for at least a year.”
“Good for you.” Penelope chuckles. “They’re nothing but trouble, in all forms and ages. If I could trade mine all in for a week or two and sit in silence by myself, I would.”
“Amen,”