Page 99 of Save the Date
“What’s this?” she asked.
“It’s an anniversary present. Happy anniversary Cara.”
Anniversary? She frowned. And then it dawned on her. Seven years ago today, she’d made the biggest mistake of her life.
“Leo, we’re divorced. We don’t have an anniversary anymore.”
“Sure we do. Just because you signed a piece of paper, that doesn’t change the fact that we got married.” He leaned in and touched her cheek. “I’ve missed you, baby.”
She batted his hand away.
“Really? You missed me? Why’s that? Did your girlfriend find herself another married man to fool around with?”
He rocked back on his heels a bit, eyes wide in surprise. He wasn’t used to this attitude. Not from her. She’d been sweet as pie most of her life. Fun-loving, easygoing, eager to please. It had been Leo’s idea to move to Savannah, a year after their marriage. A great job opportunity, he said. Unlimited chance for advancement in his sales career.
So she’d smiled and nodded, then packed up her life in Columbus, Ohio. Waved good-bye to family and friends. She’d quit the job she loved, managing a vintage clothing store near the university. And she’d moved to the South—a place she’d never even visited, except for a couple of spring break trips to Florida—to Savannah, a place where she didn’t know a single living soul.
That Cara was gone now, she told herself. Never to return.
Leo, a born salesman, never met a deal he couldn’t close.
“Aww, Cara,” he said, his voice low, mouth turned down. A textbook picture of contrition.
“That’s all over with. It was over as soon as it began. I was such a jerk. I can’t believe what I put you through. And for what? For nothing. Swear to God, you were always the only girl for me. The only girl I ever loved. My mom calls me every Sunday and wants to know when we’re getting back together.”
Her face hardened. “Tell her we’re not getting back together. Tell her you cheated on me.”
“Grannie Annie had a stroke last month. Did you know that? Dad fixed her up an apartment in the garage at our place. She still has our wedding picture on her dresser.”
She sighed. “Don’t do this to me, Leo. Please?” She had her hand on the door, was about to close it. But he was too quick for her. Always had been.
He lowered his head, put his lips next to her ears before she could jerk away. “Cara Mia, why?”
It was a line from the song, the stupid song her mother named her for. In another minute, if she let him, he’d be warbling “Must we say good-bye?”
“This won’t work, Leo,” she said, shaking her head sadly.
“Just let me take you out to dinner. No strings, just a nice dinner with a nice bottle of wine. Please? It’s killing me, to think of you alone on our anniversary.”
“I won’t be alone,” Cara said. “And as it happens, I already have plans tonight.”
“Oh yeah. Right. Saturday, and it’s wedding season so you’re probably working. But what about after? A late dinner? I know the maître d’ at the new place on Orleans Square.…”
Just then, Poppy trotted over to see what her owner was doing. She nudged the back of Cara’s knees with her head.
Leo looked stunned. “A dog? You got a dog?”
He knelt down and tugged at Poppy’s collar, until she was halfway out the door. “Hey, fella,” Leo crooned, scratching her nose, then her ears. “What a good fella. What a good dog!” He looked up at Cara. “I never saw a dog like this before. What kind is he?”
“Sheis a golden doodle—a cross between an English golden retriever and a standard poodle.”
“Beautiful animal,” Leo said. Poppy, the shameless little slut, fell hard for him, flopping onto the ground and rolling over so he could scratch her belly. If she’d had a telephone number, she would have given it to him.
“What’s her name?”
“Poppy,” Cara said.
“Figures. A flower name for a flower girl’s dog.” He stood up. “I always thought we’d get a dog. Pick one out together. Take it for a run in the park.”
