Never Got Over You

I deleted another board member’s voicemail. His words were some of the nicest ones I’d received so far, but I wasn’t backing down from my decision.

I was one of a few people who actually believed in the concept of loyalty, and I had no desire to deal with two-faced traitors. I also didn’t believe in staying in relationships past their expiration date, so I was going to end this weekend with a full disassociation from another person I no longer wanted in my life.

Turning my phone on silent, I pulled into the drive at The Chateau and waited for the valet to approach my car.

“Welcome back, Mr. Holmes,” he said as he opened my door. “Your guest is waiting for you at table seven, sir. She’s ordered your usual and the staff is waiting to serve it.”

“Thank you.” I looked over my shoulder, making sure I’d lost the overzealous photographer who’d trailed me for the past half hour before heading inside.

Near the panoramic windows that faced the waters of the Puget Sound, was the woman I’d dated for the past eight months. A high-profile literary agent, she was still stunning as ever with red curls that framed her heart-shaped face.

Her brown eyes met mine as I approached the table.

“Hello, Evelyn.”

“Hello, Sean.” She sat up a bit. “Is there any reason why you wanted me to meet you here instead of picking me up like usual?”

“Plenty of reasons.” I took a seat and refrained from saying anything further as the waitress filled our wine glasses.

“Well, whatever those reasons are, I’m just glad you didn’t ask me to join you at another symphony.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand how anyone can enjoy listening to a bunch of strings squawking and screeching. That’s not real music.”

I picked up my glass and noticed that the waitress had scrawled a note onto my napkin.

Call me :)

I’m willing to be your sidepiece …

555-3612

“I MEAN, WOULD IT KILL the orchestra to play some radio hits every now and then?” Evelyn was still talking. “A few of the violinists could even set down their instruments and sing along from time to time, too.”

“I’ll put that in the suggestion box,” I said, as the waiters set down the first course.

“I love this place so much.” She smiled at me. “Aren’t you going to ask for extra salt like usual before we eat?”

“I don’t think so.” My plan to be cordial for at least an hour was now gone. I couldn’t fake this for another second. “I know about you and John Silverton, my ex CFO. Of course, I’m sure he told you he resigned, but you should know that I fired him once I found out about the two of you.”

She dropped her fork to her plate. Her jaw fell wide open.

“If it’s any consolation,” I said. “I was planning to fire him next month, but as you know, I can be quite petty.”

“What?” She looked genuinely confused. “What are you saying, Sean?”

“I’m saying that after this dinner, we’re no longer together and you’re free to continue fucking John Silverton. Although, I’m sure it won’t be as exciting since the thrill of doing it behind my back won’t be there anymore.”

Her face paled and she sucked in a breath. She looked around the room as if she were weighing the pros and cons of making a scene.

“Your dinner is getting cold,” I said, bringing a small roll to my mouth. “Now that John is unemployed, I doubt he can afford to bring you to places like this. If I were you, I’d try to savor this memory for as long as you can.”

“Fuck you, Sean.” She hissed, leaning forward. “If you think for one second that you’re going to dump me in a public place based off some assumptions?”

“I saw you leave his place six weeks ago.” I interrupted her. “I looked through your phone last month and saw that whenever you claimed you were having a ‘day at the spa,’ you were really sleeping with him.” I took my time buttering another roll. “I know we haven’t known each other that long in the grand scheme of things, but I’ve never been much of a sharer.”

Her face was now as red as the grilled tomatoes on her plate, and her eyes were slits.

“Pardon my interruption.” A waiter stepped in front of the table. “Is there anything else you’d like me to serve with this course?”

“My salad doesn’t have enough eggs in it,” I said. “Then again, from the looks of things, maybe they’ve all jumped on my date’s face.”

He looked between us and slowly backed away. “I trust that our breakup won’t be leaked to the press tonight,” I said. “Next week, I’ll release a nice statement, though. One of those, ‘we’ve decided to remain friends and work on our careers’ type things. No one needs to know that on the same day that you were eating dinner with me, you were sleeping with someone else in the afternoon.”