Billionaire's Single Mom

"I'll be right back," I told her. I walked outside and looked at my phone. Oh, Kirsten, you always had the worst timing, I thought, calling her back. She picked up before the first ring.

"Nate?"

"Kirsten, this better be because someone died," I snapped.

"Nate, why weren't you picking up?"

"Because I'm busy. Because I don't want to talk to you. What do you want? Hurry up, I have somewhere to be."

"Somewhere to be? I know you're not working, Nate; where do you have to be? The beach? The bar? Do they have nice shooting galleries in Hawai’i?"

"The next time you want to call me, don't."

"I don't know if it’s smart to discourage the only woman who'll still talk to you."

"Who told you you’re the only one?" I challenged. She was silent for a beat.

"What?" she demanded.

"Whatever you called me to say, hurry up and say it. My date's waiting."

"Your what?" she scoffed. "You're on a date? Right now?"

"Tick tock, Kirsten."

"Wow. I knew I had to get away from you when you started drinking, but I really dodged a bullet."

"What do you mean?" I asked frowning.

"I mean, you're coming back to Los Angeles. Is the girl a tourist?" she asked. I was quiet. "Oh, of course she isn't because you would only go for someone you know you have no chance of running into again once you leave."

"This is none of your business, Kirsten."

"It isn't. I guess I just wish I was surprised to hear it. You, using a girl during your vacation knowing that you get to come back here and forget about her in a couple months. That's classic, Nate."

"Are you done?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"So sorry for interrupting you during your date," she said sarcastically. "It wouldn't be that bad if she was in on it, too, but something tells me that she isn't." I hung up, not wanting to hear anything else from her.

Fucking Kirsten. What had I ever seen in her? We weren't even friends. She had been my longest relationship, and I knew that the reason it fell apart was because of me. She was a bitch, but she probably knew me better than a lot of people did.

But she wasn't here, and she didn't know Abby. There was no way she knew anything about this. What was happening between the two of us?

What even was it?

We were hanging out. She was helping me detox. We were spending nights together, and we'd had sex. I didn't know what kind of label I was allowed to put on that. Nothing, I guess, but did Abby think it was nothing, too?

I liked her. She was great. Happier and sweeter than most people I'd met in my entire life, but she lived here. I was leaving in a couple months, and she was going to stay here. I wasn't using her. I wasn't making her think that this was something it wasn't — something that could last a long time — because it wasn't. She knew that. She had to know that.

I slid my phone back into my pocket and walked back inside. Abby smiled at me from the table. Oh God. She didn't know that.

"Everything all right?" she asked.

"Yeah. It was just someone from LA. I've been silent lately; they wanted to make sure I was okay," I said vaguely. It felt horrible lying to Abby, but I had to do it. I wasn't going to tell her that my ex-wife thought I was using her, or that, even worse, I thought I was using her, too.

I couldn't wait to get out of there. Abby didn't want anything for dessert, so we were able to leave quickly. She tried to talk to me during the ride back, but stopped when she noticed I wasn't really in a chatty mood. I was mad. If Kirsten hadn't called me, I wouldn't be thinking about this shit. I wouldn't be on a date with a beautiful girl trying to think of ways to let her down easy.

Why'd Abby tell me to take the call? Why did I fucking take the call? I could have turned the phone off. I could have just told her that we were on a date, and I wasn't going to let someone interrupt us. It was done now. I couldn't pretend it hadn't happened. I couldn't just unhear what had been said. It wouldn't stop being true even if I chose to ignore it.