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“I still don’t want to hear you say it. Not right now.”
“Okay, well—” He taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “I won’t dare hurt your feelings any further by saying, I fucking told you so.”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “Thanks for being so mature.”
“You’re welcome. For the record, the next time a guy tells you that he needs space, he’s just trying to be gentle about breaking up with you.”
“Noted.” I look outside the window, wondering if he’s ever going to start the car.
We’ve been sitting here for hours.
“How much longer do we have to sit here and stare at your ex-girlfriend’s house?” I ask.
“She was never my girlfriend,” he says. “I just liked her a lot.”
I tap my foot.
The woman in question is—well, was, a member of his app team. And she’s the first woman who managed to get him to go out on ten dates in a row.
A record that will probably never be broken.
“I just don’t understand why we’re sitting out here staring at a house,” I say. “Like—”
“She’s in there fucking the new guy I just hired to the team.” He interrupts. “He’s engaged and she’s fucking him. I had my suspicions, but I needed to see it for myself.”
I look over and notice that the red Bronco from his other teammate is parked on the side of the street.
“I was planning to make her an Italian dinner if I was wrong about it,” he says. “Oh well.”
“All those grocery bags in the back were for her? Not you?”
He doesn’t answer me.
“Do you want me to give you some breakup advice?” I ask.
“Not at all, Penelope.”
“I’m going to give you some anyway.” I clear my throat.
“I think that we should drive to Wal-Mart and buy the best brand of box cutters.” I look at him. “Then we should slash her and the new guy’s tires. After that, you should send his fiancee an anonymous text via the Block Sender app with a picture of his car parked in her driveway. Then you should fire her via text with the same thoughtfulness that she gave you, and after that, you can use all those groceries to make me an Italian dinner. I’ll probably feel starved by then.”
“Are you being serious, Pen?” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “That is by far the pettiest, immaturely stinted, and ridiculous advice that you could ever give someone in this situation.”
“I didn’t mean for it to come off that way,” I say. “I know that you'd never do any of that. I was trying to lighten the mood and make you laugh.”
“There’s nothing funny about this,” he says, pausing. “Because we don’t need to go all the way to Wal-Mart for a great box cutter. The gas station around the corner sells plenty of those.”
“Oh?” I smile. “Do you already have the Block Sender App, then?”
“I will in a few seconds.” He hands me his cell phone. “Download that for me, please.”
“Will do. Um, does this mean that you’re making me the Italian dinner once we’re finished? Are we following that part of my suggestion, too?”
“Don’t fucking push it.”
Ten
Present Day
Hayden
Hell Has Frozen Over: Hayden Hunter is Actually Apologizing
* * *
Hayden Hunter, Untamed Playboy of Manhattan, Recent Revealer of D*ck Pics, Wants Us to Know He’s “Sorry” Now
* * *
The Allure of Handwritten Letters: How Hayden Hunter Is Bringing It Back to Life
* * *
Hayden Hunter’s Apology Letter to Hilton Hotels Revealed: Details Inside!
* * *
Ten Reasons Why We’re Skeptical of Hayden Hunter’s Apologies (Just Give Us More D*ck Pics!)
Eleven
Present Day
Hayden
“Sarah, have you heard from Penelope today?” I looked up the moment she stepped into my office Monday morning.
“Why would she ever call me when she talks to you twenty times a day?”
“It’s a yes or no question.”
“It’s a pretty stupid question.” She smiled and set the latest copy of The New York Post on my desk. “The CEO of The Williams Company leaked your letter this morning. He still hates you, but he wants you to know that you’re forgiven for being an ass years ago.”
“It’s a yes or no question,” I repeated myself.
“Mr. Walsh from Tinder is currently giving a brand-new interview on Good Morning America, and he says that he doesn’t want an apology letter from you. He wants a confession.”
“He’s not even on my list.”
“Thank you for finally joining me on this conversation topic.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve personally sent ‘Thank You’ packages to everyone who RSVP’d ‘Yes’ to your charity gala, and I sent one to myself since you have a problem saying that phrase to me.”
“Your paycheck says it loud and clear.”
“The fireworks coordinator is calling me in an hour via video-chat to give me a preview of the show based on your ideas. Would you like to join us?”
“Not at all.”
