Page 14 of Yanked (Frenched 1.50)
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bsp; I gulped wine so fast I nearly choked. Fair? FAIR? I find his pretty little ex wrapped in my towel in his apartment, getting ready to go to dinner with him, and he wants to talk fair? My nostrils flared, which only happens when I get truly enraged. Since it is very unattractive, I tried to hide it behind my wine glass as I guzzled a few more ounces.
My phone vibrated again, and I looked at the screen, expecting to see his name again. But it was Coco texting me.
Where are you? Lucas just called me!
Lucas had called Coco? What had he said to her? I dialed her number, and she picked up after the first ring.
“Mia?”
I plugged my left ear to hear her better. “Yeah.”
“Oh my God, where the hell are you?”
“I’m in a bar near Lucas’s apartment.”
“Fuck.”
“Exactly. What did he say when he called?”
“He said you guys argued and you took off. He’s trying to find you.”
“Ha. How does he have your number anyway?”
“I think I called his phone when he was in Detroit once. What the fuck happened? Did he say no to moving in together?”
“No. We didn’t even get to that conversation. I was too distracted by the fact that his ex was there, in a robe, fresh from a fucking shower.”
Coco gasped. “Shut up! Jessica?”
“Uh huh. Apparently her tour ended—she’s some kind of performer—and she’s staying there for a few days until she finds an apartment.” Just the thought of it had me riled up all over again. This was not OK.
“And he didn’t tell you that?”
“Nope. And he didn’t tell her about me, either.”
“Oh my God, what an asshole. I don’t believe it!”
“Me either. My nostrils are flaring.”
“That I believe. How long has she been there?”
“A couple days.”
“Oh.” Some of the shock and anger left Coco’s voice. “Well, maybe he was going to tell you.”
“Nice try, but no.” I quickly explained to Coco Lucas’s “reasoning” for all the secrecy. “Then he said some bullshit about not wanting total transparency in a relationship. Like I’m asking to know every thought in his head. I’m not!”
“God. What are you going to do?”
“No clue. I feel like getting on a plane for home, but—“
“I don’t think you can. Lucas said they’re canceling flights right and left out of New York because of the snowstorm.”
“Shit. I guess I’ll stay the night somewhere in Manhattan then. I’ll have to get a hotel.” More fucking money down the drain.
“OK. Call me or text me when you’re settled. I don’t like to think of you wandering the streets of New York alone.”
