AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I nod in the direction of the bar. “And the fact you can’t keep your eyes off every woman in a short skirt that comes through the door was another.” I take another sip of my drink, pausing for dramatic effect. Go straight for the jugular. “But, of course, being the fantastic journalist I am, I already knew about your wife and four kids before I even stepped through the door and joined you two at the table.”
Daphne gasps beside me.
He stands to collect his jacket.
Never, evermention a cheater’s spouse and kids if you want them to stick around.
As he’s distracted, I slip my phone onto the table and press the speakerphone icon.
He throws his blazer over his shoulder with one hand and points an angry finger at me with the other. “You say a word of this to anyone,” he says with lethal calm. “You write or post this anywhere, I’ll sue the shit out of you for slander so fast your head will spin.” Then adds, “I know people. I know lots of people.”
Patrons pause around us and take notice.
I relax into my seat, slowly waving the glass beneath my nose to inhale the crisp, citrusy aroma. Gratified tingles race over my skin at how I’ve undone him.
How I’ve got him.
I click my tongue. “Awww. That almost sounded like a threat.” I uncross my legs. Cross them again. “But it’s not slander if it’s true. And I won’t have to post it anywhere, Anthony.”
“Andy,” he corrects.
“Because your wife already knows.”
All the blood drains from his face at the revelation. He looks around us as if searching for a lifeline. Or maybe he’s searching for her.
I point to my phone. “She’s been listening.” Leaning down, I say, “Say hi, Giada!”
Her Italian accent cuts like a razor. “Hi, Andrew!” We hear something shatter in the background.
I can’t help but cover my mouth and chuckle. I try not to. Really, I do.
Daphne stands with her mostly full glass, her chair scraping against the hardwood.
When he doesn’t reply, Giada says, “Get your ass home right now, you sonofabitch!” Another shatter.
He heads for the door, his lips a pressed tight line.
I do Daphne a favor and stall him. “Oh, and Andrew,” I say sweetly. “One more thing...”
He pauses. Turns on the heels of his shiny loafers.
Daphne empties her drink on his shirt. The one Giada neatly pressed for him, I’m sure.
Everyone cheers as he leaves.
“I don’t knowwhat I was thinking,” Daphne says with a sigh. She lowers into Andrew’s chair across from me. “Why can’t I see these guys for who they are? Why can’t I—”
“Don’t do that,” I say. I stare at her, unblinking, until she meets my eyes so she understands my seriousness. “Not your fault.”
She nods weakly.
I’ve written articles about narcissists and sociopaths. Studied them. Listened to podcasts about them. Have talked to professionals about them. Interviewed them. I’ve been on first dates with them. It’s truly not fair to compare herself to me. Besides, I’m happy to screen these guys for her. She knows that.
It’s why she texted me his name this morning.
A pair of black slacks and a purple blouse sidles up to the table, and a manicured hand slides a plate of bruschetta in front of us. “On the house,” Shannon says. The owner.
I flash a thankful smile. “Sorry about the spectacle.” It’s the least I could say for causing a scene in her restaurant. I already made a mental note to send her an Edible Arrangement. This place is only a five-minute walk from my condo and has the best tapas in Atlanta. I’d rather not ruin that for me.
