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I swirl the champagne in my flute and wink at him. “So I’ve heard.”
Again I’m tempted to tell him this evening will go nowhere, but then I think, why not? Why not have some indiscriminate sex when I got stood up by the man who professed to be in love with me?
“Tell me a little more about yourself,” he says. “How long have you been coaching?”
Right. I lied.
But it’s not technically a lie, is it? I do plan to become a life coach. I feel very certain in this endeavor. More certain than I felt about any path in my life—other than Dave Simpson.
And obviously that’s gone up in flames, so why the hell not?
“Not long,” I say.
“I find it very interesting. My sister worked with a life coach and said the results were amazing. It really helped her map out her goals.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. What does she do?”
“She’s a novelist. But she had trouble setting daily goals that she could make happen. The coach helped her realize what was holding her back and got her on a schedule that works for her.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so glad to hear that. What kind of novels does she write?”
“She writes romance novels. If you read romance, you’ve probably heard of her. Leah Templeton.”
“I don’t have a lot of time to read for pleasure,” I say. “But the name rings a bell.”
“She’s very good. Several of her books have been bestsellers.”
I smile. “I’ll definitely look them up. But enough about me. Tell me about the work you do with your firm.”
“It’s mostly corporate work,” he says. “We represent big businesses, keep their contracts in order.”
“What businesses?”
“I can’t give you the names of our clients. Attorney-client privilege and all. But you would probably recognize them if I did.”
I nod. We’ve effectively run out of things to talk about.
I take another sip of my champagne and then glance down at the menu.
I jerk when my phone buzzes in my purse.
“Excuse me,” I say. “I’m actually expecting to hear from someone.”
I grab my phone.
But my heart sinks. It’s not Dave.
It’s Brianna.
I rise. “Would you please excuse me for a moment?”
“Of course.”
I walk away from the table as I pick up the call. “Brianna?”
“Oh my God, Maddie. Thank God you picked up.”
“What’s wrong?”
