The Ex Read online

  “Sure! Why not? People would love it.” She taps her long black fingernails against Cassie’s sink. “You could have mostly books but maybe also some artwork. I would be happy to paint the artwork.”

  Cassie imagines the look on Bea and Marv’s faces if they discovered Bookland had an erotic literature section. Then again, maybe they’d be okay with it. You could never tell with Grandma Bea. It’s certainly not the worst thing that’s been done to keep Bookland afloat.

  Cassie tugs at the slit on the side of the dress. “It disturbs me that when you look at this dress, the first thing you think of is erotica.”

  “Don’t be such a square, Cass,” Zoe says as she draws a square figure in the air with her fingers. “Anyway, I better take off before your Hot Doctor gets here. And remember…”

  “Don’t do anything you wouldn’t do.”

  “No. I was going to say try to nip a bottle of wine from those rich snobs. Something red, okay?”

  After Zoe leaves, Cassie examines her costume one last time in her full-length mirror. Okay, the slit in the side is a little bit high, but it does look great on her. She got a cheap gold crown at the dollar store, and Zoe’s gold belt completes the costume. And the makeup is absolutely perfect. With her straight dark hair, she really looks like Cleopatra.

  The intercom buzzes to signify Joel has arrived. She buzzes him up, giving her hair one final pat. They agreed not to tell each other about their respective costumes, figuring they would surprise each other. He tried to get her to tell him, joking about how awful it would be if their costumes clashed, but she resisted the temptation… and now she’s glad.

  He’s going to be blown away.

  The doorbell rings and Cassie rushes to answer it. She rests one hand on her hip in what she hopes is a sexy Cleopatra pose as she throws open the door.

  Joel is dressed as Indiana Jones. She hadn’t noticed a resemblance between him and Harrison Ford before, but between the brown hat, the lasso, the brown leather jacket, and the day’s growth of a beard, he really looks like Indy. It’s super sexy. She’s glad he kept his costume a secret. She’s going to have trouble keeping her hands off him tonight. She only hopes he likes her costume as much as his.

  Joel’s eyes go wide at the sight of what she’s wearing. At first she thinks he’s thrilled, but there’s no smile on his face. He stumbles backwards a step, then utters a single syllable: “Oh.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asks.

  He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. All the color has left his face.

  “Joel, what’s wrong?”

  “You…” He rubs at his forehead. “I… I didn’t realize…”

  Cassie’s heart speeds up. “What’s going on? You don’t like my costume?” She frowns. “Is it… inappropriate?”

  “No.” He stares down at his brown boots. “That’s not it.”

  She frowns. “So what’s wrong? I can’t change at this point. It’s too late.”

  Not to mention all the hours Zoe spent getting her makeup perfect. She’s going as Cleopatra, period. Unless Joel has a damn good reason to tell her otherwise.

  He lets out a long sigh, his eyes still pinned to the ground. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  It’s obvious whatever is bothering him is far from nothing. She’s worried he’s lying and he thinks maybe the dress is too slutty. But it is what it is at this point.

  By the time their Uber reaches the party, Cassie has worked herself up into a panic over her dress. She can’t believe she took fashion advice from a woman who apparently paints erotic artwork. This dress is a little too smoking hot. She’s not going to a college party. She’s going to be with a bunch of professionals a decade older than she is. Screw Cleopatra—she should have gone as a librarian. A non-sexy librarian.

  Oh well, too late now.

  It doesn’t help that Joel will barely look at her during the entire ride. In the elevator going up to Lydia and Pete’s apartment, she tries to hold his hand and he jerks away from her. She’s tempted to hike over to a clothing store and get something new.

  But Joel would think she’s out of her mind if she did that. The dress isn’t that bad. And Lydia will like that Cassie took her costume advice. Maybe Lydia and Cassie will be new BFFs.

  The smile on Lydia’s face when she throws open the door for the two of them almost convinces Cassie that the worry was all in her head. Unlike at the zoo, Lydia seems thrilled to see them.

  “Joel!” Lydia grins at him. Then she flashes an even wider smile for Cassie. “Cassie! So glad you could make it.”

  Lydia looks stunning in an ice-blue Elsa costume that compliments her pale skin tone and blond hair. It’s like she was made for that costume. Lydia—the ice queen. Lydia’s eyes flicker over Cassie’s dress, and she arches an eyebrow.

  “Please come in,” Lydia says.

  Joel practically shoves the bottle of wine he brought into her hands, then makes a beeline for the table with the alcoholic drinks. He pours himself a shot of something before Cassie has even crossed the threshold into the apartment, then downs it in one gulp. And then he pours himself a second.

  What the hell?

  Lydia tugs Cassie into the apartment. “Let me give you the grand tour,” she says.

  Joel’s apartment is nice, but Lydia’s apartment is nothing short of spectacular. It’s big and airy with a balcony that gives a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Every piece of furniture is a beautiful antique, and Cassie wonders how Violet manages. But there are signs of the little girl all over the apartment, from the photos of her at every age displayed on nearly every surface to the entire bookshelf carefully organized with children’s books. And of course, there’s the giant dollhouse in the corner of the room that is close to the dimensions of Cassie’s bathroom. When she was a little girl, Cassie would have given her right arm to have that dollhouse—or that bookcase.

  “This is a great apartment,” Cassie murmurs.

  “Isn’t it though?” Lydia beams. “It was a steal. Only four million.”

  Only four million? Jesus Christ.

  Pete wanders over to them, swaying drunkenly on his feet. He’s dressed as somebody from Star Wars—maybe Obi Won Kenobi. When he catches sight of Cassie, his eyes widen much the same as Joel’s did. “Whoa,” he says. Then he laughs nervously.

  Cassie isn’t sure what’s so damn funny, but she doesn’t want to be as rude as he’s being. “Hi, Pete,” she says.

  She glances over at the table with the alcohol and Joel is still there. Still drinking. What is going on with him tonight?

  “You look… nice, Cassie.” Pete’s slurring his words very slightly. He’s drunk. But not as drunk as Joel will be shortly. “Interesting costume.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Cassie says.

  Lydia shoots Pete a look. “Didn’t I tell you, Peter: only three drinks! No more.”

  “Sorry, Mommy,” Pete slurs.

  Lydia flashes Pete a dirty look, but doesn’t say anything more, which is a wise move on her part. In Cassie’s experience, men who are that drunk are not great people to engage in serious discussions. It’s clear Pete has already surpassed the three drink limit.

  Now that they’re done with the grand tour, Lydia leads Cassie over to the drinks table. Joel has finally wandered off, which is a relief. She isn’t sure how much he’s had to drink, but she’s sure it’s a lot. She doesn’t think she can carry him home.

  Con’s wife Anna is standing by the drinks, eying the alcoholic beverages somewhat longingly. She looks adorable in a dress that is essentially a snowman, with the face painted on her upper chest and the bulge of her pregnant belly making up the snowman’s belly. Anna starts to smile, but it vanishes instantly when she gets a good look at Cassie.

  “Oh,” Anna says, “hi… um, Cassie, right?”

  Cassie frowns at her reaction. “That’s right. Cute costume.”

  “Oh,” she says again. She puts a hand protectively over her abdomen. “Thanks.”

&nb
sp; Cassie waits a beat for a compliment from Anna but it never comes. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good…” Anna flips her hair over her shoulder. “But… um, would you excuse me?”

  And then Anna gets out of there like Cassie’s got the plague.

  Well, that was weird.

  Cassie studies the various bottles of alcoholic beverages. She needs a drink like five minutes ago. Lydia picks up a bottle of champagne, pours it into a glass, and shoves it into Cassie’s waiting hand. “That’s a Billecart-Salmon champagne.”

  “Oh?”

  “It goes for three-hundred dollars a bottle,” Lydia says.

  Three-hundred? That means each sip is five bucks.

  “It’s a dry wine with a high finish and long intensity,” Lydia explains.

  She may as well be speaking in another language. Cassie takes a sip. “Oh.”

  “Can you taste the hint of raspberry and almond?” Lydia asks.

  Cassie takes another sip. It takes like every other champagne she’s ever tried. “Yes?”

  Lydia laughs. “No, you can’t.”

  Lydia’s laughter cuts into her like a knife. But Lydia’s been so nice to her until now… is it really such a big deal she’s making fun of her for not thinking this fancy three-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne tastes exactly like the ten-dollar bottle she got for New Year’s last year? Yes, it’s insulting. But it’s not the most pressing problem of the night.

  The most pressing problem is how much Joel’s had to drink and where the hell he went off to.

  Chapter 24: The Ex

  Tonight is the night Lydia has her annual Halloween party. In celebration, I am getting drunk.

  I’m sitting on the sofa, watching television and drinking vodka and orange juice from a mug. If Nonna walks in on me, I don’t want her to know I’m drinking hard liquor. She already thinks I’m a mess.

  Lydia’s Halloween party is infamous. It’s funny because she never calls it a Halloween party, but it always takes place the weekend before Halloween. She calls it a “festive party,” which is vague enough. One thing you can count on is there will be lots of expensive hors d’oeuvres and lots of wine. So much wine.

  I didn’t get an invitation this year. Even after Lydia’s little speech about how our friendship needed to cool off, I thought she’d still invite me. But nothing ever came in the mail.

  I told myself maybe there’s an issue with my mail forwarding. Maybe she wanted to send it but she wasn’t sure of the new address. But I was kidding myself. Lydia knew she could only invite one of us, and she chose Joel. And his new girlfriend.

  I’ve been holding onto Olive’s keys for two weeks, but I haven’t done anything with them. I have these fantasies about trashing her apartment, but would I really do it? That doesn’t seem like me. Then again, I’ve done a lot of things that haven’t seemed like me in the last few months.

  The truth is that every time I think about Olive, I want to wring her pretty little neck.

  Nonna pads into the living room in her pink housecoat and fuzzy slippers. She is wrinkled all the way down to her feet. It’s hard to imagine ever being that old. “What are you doing home on a Saturday night?”

  “I don’t need to go out every Saturday night.”

  “You don’t go out any Saturday night!”

  Somehow, I think of Dean’s business card, nestled inside my wallet. I had intended to toss it when I got home, but I didn’t. I didn’t call him either though.

  “I have the perfect boy for you,” Nonna declares. “My friend Esther’s grandson.”

  I roll my eyes. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “There is nothing wrong with him. Why do you say that?” She hesitates. “Well, he is a little bit on the short side. That’s all.”

  “How short?”

  “Just a little bit.”

  “How short, Nonna?”

  “Tutto bene, forget it,” Nonna sighs. Which means he is about four feet tall. “I am just saying, patatina, that you need to get out of the house. It’s not healthy for you to be here every night.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble.

  “Isn’t there anywhere you can go tonight?”

  Well, I’m not invited to Lydia’s party, so that’s off the table. I grab my purse and rifle around until my fingers close around a set of keys. Olive’s keys.

  Maybe there’s something I can do tonight.

  Chapter 25: The New Girl

  Cassie makes an attempt to locate Joel. Presumably, he’s somewhere nearby. They’re in an apartment, after all, not a museum. But upon scanning the vast living room of this four million dollar apartment, she doesn’t see him. Maybe he’s disappeared into a bedroom. Would it seem pathetic if she went searching?

  Instead, she decides to look at Lydia and Pete’s photos. They’ve got at least a dozen of them on their mantle over what looks like but couldn’t possibly be a real fireplace. There’s a photo of Lydia and Pete on their wedding day—Lydia radiant in her bridal gown, and Pete looking slightly bewildered next to her. Then one of Lydia pregnant with Violet, followed by a second where she’s clinging to a newborn Violet in what appears to be some sort of park.

  Where is Violet, anyway? Cassie hasn’t seen her the whole night. Is she stashed away somewhere? Cassie could imagine Lydia closing the little girl in a room and firmly telling her not to come out under any circumstances. Violet would absolutely listen. Cassie had never met a more well-behaved child.

  Cassie’s eyes fall on the next photo, which is a group picture that looks like it was taken at a recent Halloween party. Lydia looks stunning as Rapunzel, which seems to suit her just as well as Elsa—there’s something about Lydia that screams out beautiful blond princess. Pete is dressed as Han Solo—definitely a Star Wars theme with this guy.

  And then there’s Joel, grinning at the camera, dressed as a policeman. He looks as happy as she’s ever seen him. And his arm is around a beautiful brunette who is dressed as…

  Cleopatra.

  Cassie’s mouth falls open as she studies the Cleopatra in the photo. The woman in the costume is absolutely stunning. Really, really beautiful. Dark hair cascading down her shoulders. An absolutely perfect body. Even her teeth are perfect as she smiles for the camera. She’s the most beautiful Cleopatra who ever was. Elizabeth Taylor, eat your heart out.

  “That’s Francesca.”

  Cassie backs away from the photo, her cheeks growing warm. Of course, Lydia would catch her ogling this photo, which she suspects may have been put here for her to see. Lydia has a tiny smile playing on her lips.

  “Have you never seen a photo of her?” Lydia asks.

  “I…” Cassie tries to swallow but her mouth is too dry. “I haven’t…”

  Lydia shrugs. “Well, that’s not surprising. I’m sure he put them away.”

  Cassie looks from the photo to her own costume. No wonder everyone was so shocked by what she was wearing. Who shows up to a costume party dressed identical to the way your boyfriend’s ex dressed? She can’t even imagine what was going through Joel’s head when he saw her.

  She raises her eyes to glare at Lydia. “You told me to dress as Cleopatra.”

  Lydia lifts an eyebrow. “Did I? I don’t recall that.”

  “I asked you what costume I should wear…” Cassie’s trying to sound angry, but to her own ears, her voice sounds pitiful. “And you told me Cleopatra!”

  “Perhaps I did.” She shrugs. “Well, you have to admit, it’s a good idea. Francesca looked so stunning, didn’t she?”

  Cassie doesn’t know what to say to that.

  “But then again, she’s so gorgeous.” A smile plays on Lydia’s lips. “She could have been a model if she wanted, but she said cooking just called to her. I must have subconsciously been thinking about how stunning she looked in that costume. Such a great choice.”

  Cassie tugs at the slit in her dress, feeling more and more self-conscious. She glances around the room and everyone seems to be staring at her. And wh
ispering. She’s dressed up just like Francesca, Joel’s ex. Two women she doesn’t recognize are staring at her, and they simultaneously burst into laughter. Anna and Con are sitting on the couch, and Anna shakes her head in disbelief as she stares at Cassie.

  They all think she’s crazy.

  “Where did you get that dress anyway?” Lydia’s lips twist into a smirk. “It’s… interesting.”

  As Cassie looks into Lydia’s face, she realizes the truth. The suggestion of the Cleopatra costume was no accident or oversight. Lydia doesn’t want Cassie here. She wishes Francesca was here instead. Cassie’s not good enough for Joel, and she’s not good enough to be in their circle. This act was meant to sabotage her relationship and possibly remind Joel of his last girlfriend, who looked—let’s face it—a million times better in her Cleopatra costume.

  Cassie’s eyes fill with tears. She is done looking for Joel. Before Lydia can get the satisfaction of seeing her cry, she spins around and marches out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

  It’s only when she gets downstairs that she realizes how weak her exit was. She left without Joel, who is still up there, probably drunk, and will now only hear Lydia’s side of things—the crazy girlfriend who inexplicably dressed as his ex-girlfriend, started crying randomly, and left the party for no reason. Moreover, she forgot her coat. And it’s far too cold to be traipsing around the city in a sleeveless dress that may as well be made from tissue paper.

  Damn it.

  Cassie stands in the lobby, contemplating her next move as the doorman frowns at her. She can’t take the subway home because she’ll freeze to death walking there. She doesn’t have the money for a cab or Uber. Her only option is to text Joel and hope he comes down to save her. God only knows what he’s doing up there. Maybe if she leaves, they’ll invite Francesca and the two of them can have a grand reunion.

  “Cassie?”

  Cassie whirls around when she hears the voice call out her name. She notices the baby bump first and then the snowman face, and that’s when she realizes it’s Anna. The last person she wants to see right now. Well, not the last person, but certainly up there. Along with everyone else at that party.