Page 17

“Yes, three years ago. I’ve served him papers, and he’s been contesting our divorce in court for two years. He won’t sign. But my attorney is positive it’ll be over by December if the judge declares it over. Then I’ll be free and clear. I really want things to work out for us.”

Scott leaned back, sighing hard and shaking his head slowly. “Nah.” It was a simple word, short and to the point, but it crashed onto the table between them like a boulder.

“What?” Vanessa sat up straighter and blinked at him. “Nah? What does that mean, nah ? I thought things were cool between us. This is just a question of paperwork. I’m done with him.”

“Nah,” Scott repeated, shrugging one shoulder.

“Everything was cool until some motherfucker showed up at my place of business telling me you’re his wife and he’s not going anywhere.

Everything was cool until he threatened to beat my ass if I saw you or spoke to you again, in front of my clients, in front of my employees.

The only reason I didn’t take him up on it for disrespecting me like that was because I’ve worked too hard to build a reputation with those people.

I can’t have drama around my money. That’s number one. ”

He held up a finger, his eyes turned all the way from cold to fierce while shame heated her cheeks. Then he held up a second finger and exhaled. Now there was a glint of hurt behind the anger in his eyes.

“Number two. I liked you, a lot. I really hoped this could go somewhere. I could’ve handled a jealous ex-husband if I thought you and I could really build something, but you lied to me. For four months, you kept this from me. You —”

“I —”

“I’m not finished.” He paused, his eyes blazing her into silence. “You kept me at a distance, saying you wanted to take it slow, but it’s starting to look more like you didn’t want anything to go down between us because you’re still in love with him.”

The accusation hit her like a slap in the face.

“In love with him? I’m not in love with him.

I don’t have anything to do with him. I don’t even see him unless it’s to discuss the divorce,” Vanessa insisted.

A queasy feeling invaded her, at his words, at the sensation trembling in her chest that maybe she was protesting too much for a reason.

“Bottom line is, you’re married, and you covered it up. That’s involved. You know my history. I told you I’d been married, and she cheated on me. That fucking wrecked me. So, nah, I don’t see where we go from here if I can’t trust you to be honest about shit like this.”

His face flushing brick red, Scott looked at her with open resentment. That hurt. Fresh salt being poured in an already deep cut.

“Okay, if we’re speaking of honesty. When were you going to mention you’re in a gang?”

Scott’s face went brick red this time. He leaned back, appraising her with eyes that could have sliced through her like a knife made of green jade. Quietly, in a tone that made her pulse jangle, he said, “You don’t want to know anything about that side of me, Vanessa. You really don’t.”

They sat frozen in taut silence for several minutes. The waitress came by to ask if they wanted dessert. Scott said, “No, thank you. I’d like the check, please,” while Vanessa shook her head, willing the lump in her throat to shrink and go away.

“Let’s go,” he said gruffly.

The drive back was filled with more music, papering over the bitterness twisting through the interior of the car.

Curses, foiled again . If it wasn’t for that meddling kid…

When they reached her house, Scott didn’t turn off the ignition. The night air was humid, and Vanessa wiped a trickle of sweat from her temple. She felt disheveled, disoriented. Unable to understand why she kept making mistake after mistake, crashing and burning.

“I know it won’t make a difference at this point, but I’m sorry.” Vanessa hesitated but Scott didn’t look at her.

All he said was, “Goodbye, Vanessa.”

He barely waited to put the car in drive and peel off with the tires screeching before she opened her front door. She went inside, her heart pounding as rage built, brick after brick stacking on top of each other until they became four walls, closing around her, shutting her in. Alone.

Her first instinct? To get back in her own car, drive over to Santino’s new place. Take her good bottle of his grandfather’s vino along for the ride, stuff some cloth into the neck, light that shit up and throw it right through his goddamned window.

Claremore might be able to get away with burning someone’s house down, but she most definitely wouldn’t. Since she didn’t feel like losing her chance at a relationship and her law license in one night, instead she considered picking up the phone and cursing him the fuck out. Proper, like a lady.

But she did neither. She wouldn’t give that bastard the satisfaction of knowing he’d ruined this for her, and she didn’t have his number anymore anyway.

And as for Scott? It was time to be honest with herself.

She didn’t love him. She’d loved the idea of him, the chance of a good life with him, a fulfillment of the life she’d planned for herself.

The power couple with great careers, a stable marriage, children.

A loving home. She could blame Santino for this, but Scott was right.

She’d lied, by omission. It was her fault she was alone and always would be.

Aaannnnd….cue the downward spiral.

The old critical inner bitch loomed up from the pit of her stomach and whispered ugliness in her ear, showed her a reflection of herself she’d tried to ignore.

If Scott had really wanted this to work, he would’ve given you a chance to explain and make it up to him.

He would have tried to understand and forgive.

But no, he gave you up without a fight because he didn’t want you enough.

Like every other man you’ve tried dating since Santino.

Like Santino, when he chose Antoinette over you.

And now, after all this, she was going to wind up in Montreal alone after all, with the most wonderful fucking couple ever created by God himself. Bobby, the best son, best doctor, loving husband, and kang to Queen Zoe the Great. Wonderful wife! Mother of the Year!

It exploded out of her with fists balled and she shouted, “ Fuck everyone! ” into the silent house.

Santino wasn’t going to win. Nope, nope, nope, not gonna win. She was going to live her life, do whatever the fuck she wanted. And Scott? She didn’t need him to be her shield in Montreal. She didn’t need either of them.

Vanessa wiped her face and her hand came away wet and streaked with runny makeup.

She didn’t fucking care about dirtying the cute pink pants and wiped the black and blush streaks right on them.

She sat down on the couch and pulled out her phone, opened the Holidates app, and changed her profile with jittery, stabbing fingers.

She kept the username, Vanity6, as an ode to the 80s singer and a play on her own name. Same location: Westchester, New York. Event she needed a date for: Montreal Jazz Festival.

This time, no more waiting for a respectable “getting to know him” period. She was going to find someone to have fun with and fuck . She was going to get bent over a balcony with a croissant in one hand and a glass of the best French champagne they had to offer in the other.

And she damned sure was not going to sit there and grin and fake it till she made it in front of Zoe, who would pout sweetly at her with fake pity, and worse, Bobby who would stare at her with real pity. Nope, not doing it, not enduring any of that.

In the meantime, she needed to book her own flight and hotel yet again.

She should have never canceled them on Scott’s behalf in the first fucking place.

This is exactly why she shouldn’t depend on anyone.

Then she went to bed, if that’s what you called it when you stay up all night staring into the darkness with your fists clenched in rage.

But by morning, a strange calm had descended on her.

Since they didn’t have court, she allowed herself to be late for a change.

She meditated in the backyard on the grass, then went inside feeling better.

Not great, but a little better. She called and left a message for Jade, who still worked at Dani’s old travel agency and got the best hook-ups.

She was certain Jade could find her something decent even this close to the festival.

Montreal or fucking bust .

After she’d left her message, she cooked herself breakfast and ate it at leisure. She was minutes away from leaving for work when the phone rang. It was Jade’s cheerful voice on the other end.

“Hey, girl. Your message said you needed a hotel and a flight to Montreal? I thought you already had your bookings.”

Vanessa sighed shakily, wiping the sudden lone tear that trekked down her face at the question. She liked Jade a lot, but didn’t want to pour out the whole messy story.

“Can you help me find something else? Staying with my brother and his wife isn’t an option, obviously. I want to get up there the weekend before them to have a couple days to myself.”

“On it. I have to warn you, it might be pretty tough this close to the festival, but I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know,” Jade said cheerfully.

After that, she made the drive to the office. At her cubicle, she glanced around, seeing that everyone was busy and no one was looking for her. Then she checked the time in Parma. It was about four in the afternoon there. Dani answered on the second ring.

“ Ciao, bella! Come stai? ” Dani sang.

“All settled in?” Vanessa asked casually.

“Yeah, we’ve got the routine down. Land, unpack, eat tons of Nonni’s dope pasta. What’s going on over there?”

Slowly, gritting her teeth into a smile, Vanessa said, “Renfield… you have betrayed me.”

“Wh-what?” Suddenly Dani didn’t sound so cheerful anymore. “What do you mean? Are you…Dracula?”

“Santino blew my shit up. Somehow, he found out about Scott and Montreal, and he paid him a little visit. Then Scott broke the whole thing off. Any idea who might have let her little lip hang loose and tell on me?”

Dani’s laugh was hearty and fake, fake, fake. “Girl, I don’t — uh-oh, Adriano is crying, gotta go.”

There was no crying in the background. None.

“Why, bro?” Vanessa exclaimed, then lowered her voice when Jace looked over at her from his office across the aisle. “Why would you tell him anything? You said you were putting that shit in the vault. Fort Knox. Fort Knox!”

“Alright, alright,” Dani said quickly. Then she gave a weak chuckle. “You see, what had happened was…”

The story was brief. Dani blamed it on the alcohol. But then she said, “Are you sure you didn’t want him to know?”

Vanessa’s eyes popped wide. “What?” she breathed indignantly.

“Are you sure you didn’t want Santino to stop you from doing something you knew would be a mistake? Like maybe you telling me while pouring shots down my throat to practically guarantee I’d talk wasn’t your backdoor way of getting Santino’s attention?”

Vanessa was stunned. “I — I— Oh, you know what? I think I do hear Adriano crying. You better go get him. I’ll talk to you later.”

Quickly, before Dani could say anything else, Vanessa pressed “end” on that conversation and slumped face-first onto her desk. Was it true? Had she mindfucked herself into this whole fiasco rather than admit she really hadn’t wanted to take things further with Scott?

Before she could examine that, a notification popped up from the app. She’d gotten her first match and a “like.” Grateful that it hadn’t taken all that long, she smiled, wiping away another tear.

It was from JazzyJeff, 28 years old. Location: Montreal, Canada.

That name sounded familiar. His picture was taken from above rather than at a direct angle and it was blurry.

She couldn’t be sure if his hair was light brown or dark blond.

He wore a pair of shades and was throwing up a rock devil sign.

“What kind of pics are these?” The other photos were of scenery. A boat, a tree in a yard, a tropical beach scene. “Good enough, who cares. Have dick, will travel.”

She tried expanding the picture, but it only got blurrier when she did. Next, she read the short bio. “I love jazz. We will have a good time at the festival. Let’s meet up and eat lots of good French food. Mercy boocoo.”

Mercy boocoo? Was that supposed to be a joke or did a man from Montreal really not know how to — Oh God no. No . This was Santino. It had to be.

Had he totally lost his mind? Did he really think she was that stupid? The answer to both seemed like a definitive “yes.”

“You are ruining my life, asshole !” she shouted into the phone.

Jace stared at her, mouthing, “What the fuck?” She flapped her hand at him, putting her attention back on the phone. No one else batted an eye.

She was about to shut the whole app down, delete it, start from scratch somewhere else. But before she did, she had a better idea. Santino wanted to insert himself into her business and play games? Okay, time to fucking play.

Vanessa smirked and wrote: “ Hey Jazzy. I’ll be up there next Saturday.

Let’s meet for coffee when I arrive.” She opened up the browser to quickly search for and locate the garden café she’d had her heart set on trying out.

“ Meet me at Café Fleurs in Old Montreal at high noon. If things work out, I hope you’re up to FUCK because I’ve never had it good.

My ex never gave me an O, not even once.

Small dick, bad oral. If you think you can do the job, let’s go! ”

His response: “ Wow, harsh. U must be exaggerating, I bet he was much better but then I wouldn’t know just guessing. C u there. ”

Her laugh was short and bitter. “Yeah, no you won’t.”

Jace came over and leaned his elbow on the cubicle wall with a concerned expression. “What’s going on? You’re…” He gestured at her snarling face and her lopsided topknot with the ends sticking out like she’d been electrocuted. “Discombobulated.”

“I have to make new arrangements for my trip to Montreal this Saturday.”

His eyes widened. “You’re still going? I thought you were gonna cancel. What about Claremore? You’re not ready for his examination,” Jace argued, trying to keep quiet. “Don’t leave us in the lurch, Watson, please.”

“I need to get the fuck outta here. Otherwise.” She hooked her fingers around an imaginary neck and choked it dramatically. “We’ve got some time to prepare after I get back. I can handle it. I’ll work on the statement while I’m there. I’ll be ready.”

He put up his palms in surrender. “Alright, alright. But the second you get back, we’re a hundred percent on this. Two hundred.”

“Fine, yes, a thousand. Thanks, Jace. I really need this.”

Jace softened, then nodded and ran his hand through his hair. “Only because you’re my favorite. Just don’t tell Sand,” he whispered. “See you when you get back.”