The Ex Page 9

  My cheeks grow warm. “I don’t want anything.”

  “Of course you do,” he insists. “You were in line.”

  I can’t tell him that I was only in line to get a better look at him. “You don’t have to pay, I mean.”

  “Well, you saved me six dollars,” he points out.

  “You want something or not, lady?” the vendor snaps at me.

  They’re both staring at me, so I mumble, “Just a water.”

  I accept the water grudgingly. I need to get out of here before Joel sees me. I don’t want him to figure out I’ve been following him. If he does, it won’t be good. At the very least, he’ll delete the WhereAmI app from his phone.

  “I’m Dean,” the guy says before I can hurry away. He’s still smiling at me with that sexy dimple. Joel used to look at me that way.

  “Oh,” I say.

  He’s waiting for me to tell him my name. But if I tell him my name, he’ll report back to Joel, and he’ll know it’s me. And then Joel will wonder what I happened to be doing at that exact same place in the park as him.

  But before I can figure out what to tell him, the guy Dean snaps his fingers and says, “Sophia Loren.”

  I blink at him. “Excuse me?”

  He fumbles with his hot dog. “Sorry. I was trying to figure out who you look like. I’m a sucker for old films and Sophia Loren was this great Italian actress from… well, a long time ago.”

  “I know who Sophia Loren is,” I say. I love old films too, and Marriage Italian Style is one of Nonna’s favorite movies. I bought it for her on DVD several years ago. “I don’t think I look like her.”

  “I disagree,” Dean says, his dark eyes serious even though he’s still smiling. “You’re a dead ringer.”

  “Well, thank you,” I say, even though it’s not true.

  His smile widens. “This is the best day ever. I got to meet a girl who looks just like my favorite actress. And she saved me six dollars on a hot dog and bottle of water.”

  “Yes, but then you blew two of those dollars on a bottle of water for that girl.”

  “Worth it.” He raises his eyebrows. “But you know what would really make this the best day ever?”

  I’m afraid to hear.

  “If that girl would let me have her phone number,” he says.

  I swallow hard. Dean isn’t really my type, but even if he was, I can’t consider giving my number to a guy who’s friends with Joel. I don’t even know why I’m talking to him.

  Dean takes a bite of his hot dog, waiting for me to say something. He’s watching me, and I can’t help but notice he’s got long eyelashes for a man. It makes his eyes look even darker than they are. Smoldering.

  “I can’t,” I finally manage.

  At first, I think he’s going to argue with me, but he doesn’t. “Okay,” he says. “I understand. But how about just your name?”

  I shake my head.

  He clutches his chest with the hand partially holding the water bottle. “Ouch.”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble. “Nothing personal, but…”

  “You’ve got a boyfriend.”

  “No,” I say. I don’t know why I was truthful about that. I should have told him I had a six-foot-four Navy SEAL boyfriend. That would have gotten rid of him quick. “It’s not that.”

  “Then…” He smiles again, popping that dimple. “You’re saying I’m too ugly. Is that it?”

  “No.” I can’t suppress the tiniest smile. “It’s not that. At all.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “It’s complicated,” I mumble. “Trust me.”

  He sighs and shakes his head. “Not even a name? A first name?”

  I shake my head again.

  “An initial? How about a syllable? I’ll take one syllable. It doesn’t even have to be the first syllable.”

  He’s cute. I must be crazy to be turning him away. “I’m sorry.”

  He sighs, his smile slipping slightly. “Okay, fine. I’ll have to be satisfied with knowing I got to see Sophia Loren’s doppelganger in the flesh today.”

  “I don’t look like Sophia Loren,” I say, but I don’t think he hears me.

  He takes one last bite of his hot dog and gives me a funny little wave. I watch him jog off to join his friends, but I duck out of sight before Joel knows it’s me.

  Chapter 15: The New Girl

  It’s been two weeks since Lydia compared Cassie unfavorably to Joel’s ex-girlfriend, and it’s easy for her to forget it ever happened. Especially when Cassie and Joel are sitting together at a cozy round table in a dimly lit comedy club downtown, sipping on cold beers, his left arm encircling her shoulders. She feels safe with his arm around her shoulders. He’s big and warm and she loves the muscles in his chest.

  Cassie thinks she might be falling in love. Just a little bit.

  But then she thinks about Grandma Bea and Grandpa Marv. The sweet and romantic story about their chance meeting on the subway platform. The way they loved each other for nearly fifty years—so much that Bea was convinced Marv had come back as a ghost to keep her company in the bookstore. Nobody could tell her otherwise.

  She doesn’t feel that way about Joel. If he were to die, she wouldn’t ask that he comes back as a ghost. Just the opposite—the last thing she needs right now is to be haunted by some guy. She knows it’s early in their relationship, but she wonders if she’ll ever feel that way about him. If someday their grandchildren will say that Grandpa Joel and Grandma Cassie had the greatest love story of all time.

  Right now, it’s hard to imagine.

  She needs to get to know Joel better. They need to take their relationship to the next level. And there’s one very good way Cassie can think of to do that.

  Cassie never told Joel how long it’s been since she’s had sex, but she hinted at the fact that it’s been a while. He’s been really respectful about it, but she knows he’s waiting for her to say the word. If she waits another few weeks, he may start pushing. And honestly, she’s not sure what she’s waiting for anymore.

  She’s ready.

  Joel laughs at a joke from the standup comedian at the front of the room. The comedian is picking on a couple at the front of the room, joking about how much younger the woman is than the man. The word “sugar daddy” is used, and also some less nice words. She’s glad they’re sitting all the way in the back, so the comedian doesn’t notice how much younger Cassie is than her date. She doesn’t want a comedian to pick apart their deficiencies.

  “Hey,” she whispers to him.

  “Hey,” he whispers back.

  His breath smells like the Corona he’s been drinking. She leans forward and presses her lips against his. He’s surprised for a moment, then relaxes into the kiss. He’s a very good kisser. She’s not sure if she’s a good kisser or not, but he does seem to enjoy kissing her.

  “Do you want me to spend the night tonight?” she asks when their lips part for air.

  He sucks in a breath. “Yeah. Of course. That would be great.”

  “Bookland doesn’t open until ten,” she says. “So I’ll have time to get home and change. Do you have an early shift tomorrow?”

  “Eight.” He grins at her. “But I wouldn’t care if it started at five.”

  She returns his smile. “Okay, then.”

  They’re both slightly tipsy when they hop in an Uber, and they arrive at his apartment fifteen minutes later. His apartment is big, considering it’s just him living here—two bedrooms. Cassie wonders if Francesca ever lived here. One thing she can say for sure is there’s no sign of a woman’s touch in this place. The furniture is bare-bones, the bookcases stuffed with medical books—the only sign of luxury is the large, high-definition television in the living room.

  “Drink?” Joel asks her as he flicks on the lights.

  She kicks aside some old sneakers abandoned on the ground. She thinks they’re the sneakers he wears at the hospital, and she imagines bacteria and viruses emanating from the
laces.

  “Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly. “I would have tidied up if I knew I was going to have company.”

  “That’s all right,” Cassie says. She likes the slight disorder of his place. Sometimes Joel seems a little too perfect and put-together—it’s nice to see he can be a slob sometimes too.

  “So that drink…?”

  She smiles. “I’ll pass.”

  He hesitates for only a moment before pushing her gently against a wall and kissing her. She had a feeling they wouldn’t make it to the bedroom before things got started. He can’t wait another moment.

  As Joel kisses her, Cassie notices the blinds on his window are open. Even though the lights in the living room aren’t particularly bright, they’re much brighter than the darkness outside. Anyone outside could easily see inside their window.

  “Joel.” Cassie pulls away from him. “Let’s shut the lights.”

  He catches his breath, his face flushed. “What?”

  “It’s just…” She reaches for the light switch. “I want to turn the lights off.”

  “But I want to look at you…”

  “Yes, but…” She glances at the window. “I feel like we’re on display in here…”

  He laughs. “You think someone is spying on us?”

  She doesn’t crack a smile. How can she explain to him the continued feeling she’s gotten that someone is watching her? He’d think she’s crazy.

  But his eyes soften at the look on her face. “I’ll shut the blinds, okay?”

  “Okay,” she agrees.

  And she doesn’t feel comfortable until all three blinds in the living room have been lowered, the outside world shut off.

  Chapter 16: The Ex

  They’ve been in there for three hours.

  I hate that I know that. I hate that I’ve been sitting at a twenty-four-hour diner right across from Joel’s apartment building—the one with a great view of the front door. I hate that I’ve been sipping coffee, watching the door, waiting to see if she’ll come out.

  Knowing she won’t.

  It looks like Joel and his olive-skinned girlfriend are having a sleepover tonight.

  I don’t know how I ended up here. I was having a perfectly pleasant dinner with a friend on the upper west side. Unfortunately, this friend knows me better as me-and-Joel than just me. My career isn’t doing great and I’m living with my grandmother. My whole life was the elephant in the room. We talked a lot about what was good on TV.

  And then after it was over, because I couldn’t help myself, I clicked on WhereAmI. Joel wasn’t home, so on a whim, I went to his apartment building. Looking back, I’m not sure what I hoped to achieve. I was having a good hair day and I looked my best in my sleek black coat and leather boots, and I thought maybe if he saw me…

  Well, all that went out the window when I saw Olive.

  They looked so happy together. And she looked… well, even on a good hair day, there’s no comparison. His arm was slung around her shoulders, and he was holding her close as they laughed over a shared joke. If I came over, it would ruin their night. For that reason, I was almost tempted to do it.

  But instead, I watched them walk inside.

  And then I waited out here. I thought maybe she’d stay for a little while, and then he’d walk her back down and bundle her into a taxi. But she’s not coming down. She’s spending the night. I’m sure of it.

  “Would you like another cup of coffee, ma’am?”

  I look up at the waiter standing over me. He’s young—early twenties at the most. I remember a time when twenty-three didn’t seem painfully young. And now the twenty-year-old just ma’am’ed me. As if this night couldn’t get any worse.

  The waiter raises his eyebrows at me in a concerned expression. He’s cute—the sort of boy I might have dated in college. Okay, he’s young, but not that young. It’s not like I’m twenty years older. And aren’t young guys attracted to cougars?

  Maybe Nonna was right. Maybe a little no-strings-attached fun is what I need.

  “Maybe one more cup,” I say.

  He nods and hurries off to get the coffee pot. He’s very polite and eager to please. Clean-cut with no piercings. And I like his smile. He’s not as handsome as that Dean guy—the friend of Joel’s—but he’s appealing in his own way.

  When he returns with the coffee pot, he leans over me to pour the piping hot black liquid in my cup. I’ll have trouble sleeping if I drink this, but maybe that’s a good thing if there’s a chance I’m going home with this guy.

  “Thank you,” I murmur.

  “My pleasure.”

  I lift my eyes until they meet his. I study the gold nametag pinned to his chest. Luke. He looks like a Luke somehow.

  “You know,” Luke says, “my shift ends in twenty minutes.”

  I suck in a breath. Did he really just suggest what I think he’s suggesting? Even though I’d been idly fantasizing about him, his proposition freaks me out. I couldn’t really go home with a young boy like this, could I? And what if this is all a trick on his part to rob me?

  Although it wouldn’t be too clever, considering I know where he works.

  “Thank you,” I say quietly. “I’ll just have the check.”

  He lifts an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

  Am I? Spending a night with this boy might help me to forget about Joel. But I have a feeling when I wake up in the morning, I’ll feel even worse than I do now. This isn’t the answer. I don’t know what the answer is yet, but it’s not this.

  “Just the check, please.”

  Luke’s face drops, but he recovers quickly. “Whatever you’d like, ma’am.”

  Another “ma’am.” I was right to turn him down. This kid makes me feel about a hundred years old. I’m not young anymore. Not the way I was when I first met Joel.

  There’s no point in sitting here and torturing myself anymore. I need to either do something to get rid of Olive or I need to get the hell over it.

  Chapter 17: The New Girl

  Technically, it was the Walk of Shame. Cassie had an unplanned sleepover at her boyfriend’s apartment and is now traveling back home on the subway in the exact same clothes she wore last night, but she doesn’t feel shameful. She had a great time last night—at least, after Joel closed the blinds. He was great, three times over. As she sits on the train between a dozing businessman and a girl with a bullring through her nose, she feels like she is glowing.

  Joel left early for his shift, but stuck a note under her phone that said, “Can we get dinner tonight? Also, TAKE A CAB.” And then a twenty-dollar bill underneath. She left it behind. She feels uncomfortable about taking any money from him, and in general doesn’t like the idea of having sex with a guy and finding money left for her after it’s over. He has no idea about the extent of her financial woes—it’s not something she wants to talk about. She loves the way he looks at her, and she worries he might look at her differently if he knew the whole truth.

  Cassie makes it to her apartment building in forty-five minutes. The gray-white building with the tattered green awning is not nearly as nice as where Joel lives, but it’s much nicer than the tenement that Zoe lives in. This cozy one-bedroom apartment was also gifted to her by Grandma Bea in the will, and now she owns it, free and clear.

  Grandma Bea and Grandpa Marv bought the apartment after their kids had all moved out. It was their retirement home. Cassie’s mother would always remark on how tiny it was. Don’t you two trip over one another? But Bea and Marv never got in each other’s way. They loved their tiny little haven. Whenever Cassie came to visit, Marv would be reading a book in the living room, and Bea would be baking in the kitchen. The apartment still smells like chocolate chip cookies.

  Cassie loves the apartment and all the memories she has here. In the next year, she will be forced to sell it. She should have sold it a long time ago, but she stupidly clings to it. It’s home to her. She’ll wear the same jacket she’s had since high school and eat ramen noodles
every night, but she doesn’t want to give up her home.

  But if she doesn’t, it will be taken.

  Or worse.

  When she gets inside, the first thing Cassie does is go to her mailbox. There was a time in the past when it used to be fun to get mail. Like, when she was ten. Now she holds her breath every time she opens that metal mailbox. The squeak of the door makes her heart jump, like a trained response. But today it’s just the usual assortment of junk mail and only one bill for the electricity. There’s nothing in the mailbox that spoils her glow from last night.

  Mrs. Richards holds the elevator door for her, and she leaps in just before it slides shut, clutching her purse to her chest. Mrs. Richards gives her a pleasant smile, and Cassie can tell the elderly woman is eager to make conversation. She and Grandma Bea used to be friends.

  “How are you, Cassandra dear?” Mrs. Richards asks.

  “Fine.” She pats her hair, hoping Mrs. Richards can’t tell she spent the night at a man’s apartment. She suspects her elderly neighbor wouldn’t approve. “How about you?”

  “Oh, the usual.” Mrs. Richards rolls her eyes in a way that reminds Cassie of Grandma Bea. “The arthritis in my back is acting up. I’m telling you—don’t get old.”

  Cassie laughs, but it’s an expression that always makes her uneasy. Don’t get old. How do you keep from getting old? Everyone ages, so the only way to keep from getting old is to die young.

  The elevator lurches on the second floor like it always does. When Cassie first moved here, she’d have panic attacks in this elevator, which creaked and groaned with every turning of the gears overhead. On top of that, it’s about the size of a coffin. Being this close to Mrs. Richards and sharing the small amount of air in this tiny enclosed space is enough to shoot up her pulse every time.

  Mrs. Richards, on the other hand, seems blissfully ignorant of the elevator’s potential to be a deathtrap. “Do you have a beau?” she asks.

  Cassie forces a smile. “Yes, I do.”

  “Very good.” The older woman nods her approval. “Will you be getting married soon?”