Dear Future Ex-wife

After we take our seats, the waitress stops by our table for my drink order. The girls started knocking back cocktails twenty minutes ago. And I was five minutes early for our lunch date. Feeling in the spirit, I order a glass of water and a margarita that I need two hands to lift. I wish the waitress had told me it was meant for sharing. I don’t usually drink on my lunch break but when in Rome…

“So, you think you’ll make it?” Callie asks me.

“With Nate, you mean?” She nods, and I continue, “I think so. Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice. Either we pull this off or we’re both screwed, and not in a good way.”

Callie chuckles. “Speaking of getting screwed, you planning to hop into bed with Nate?”

I roll my eyes and snicker. “Not a chance.”

“I hear he’s amazing in bed,” Amelia says, which I don’t find the least bit comforting.

The thought of other women in his bed makes me sick to my stomach.

“That’s the rumor,” Jules says, pushing her blonde hair behind her ears. “I read some of the comments the women left on the posts about him. I can’t believe how many of them left their phone numbers. Desperate much?”

“He’s had more than his fair share of women over the years,” Lola says with laughter in her tone.

Disgusted, I glance down at the menu. “Don’t remind me. One of his conquests showed up at the apartment last night. Apparently, she’s his Wednesday booty call and didn’t get the memo that he’s engaged.”

“Ooh, girl,” Lola says with sheer horror on her face. “That’s rough. What did you do?”

“I told her to get lost before I call security.”

The girls laugh in unison.

I wish I could join them, but every time I think about the women Nate keeps on retainer, I want to vomit. I’m marrying a womanizer, an asshole. How is this the same Nate I’ve known since before I could walk? He’s not the little boy who held my hand when I was too scared to jump into the deep end of the pool. I miss that Nate. And unless he returns, I don’t see how I can take him seriously.

“I hope no one saw her,” I say in a hushed tone. “She could have exposed our lie.”

Callie nods in agreement. “I would’ve jumped on that story faster than Lola at a Macy’s One Day Sale.”

Lola throws out her hand and groans, “Speak for yourself.”

“What?” Callie raises her eyebrows. “Am I wrong? You got into a fight with a teenager over a Michael Kors tank.”

“It was the only one left in my size.” She blows out a puff of air and her auburn hair falls in front of her eyes, forcing her to push it away. “And she was clearly a medium.”

“Whatevs,” Callie says, sticking her tongue out at Lola.

“I saw your engagement pics,” Jules says to change the subject. “You and Nate actually looked like a couple in love. I doubt anyone will believe otherwise. I was seriously impressed. I didn’t think Nate could make those pics look so… real.”

“That’s because it was real,” Callie says. “Nate’s been obsessed with Harley for years.”

“Yeah, right,” I say without hesitation. “The only thing Nate’s obsessed with is getting laid. He doesn’t care who he’s with as long as he gets off.”

“Don’t be silly.” Callie clicks her tongue. “I talked to Nate before you got here. If you want my professional opinion, I’d say he’s happy you have to marry him. You should’ve seen his face when I told him you were on your way to the city. He played it off like he didn’t want you to get involved, but Nate can’t hide from me. No one can. I can smell a lie a mile away. He was gloating on the inside.”

“And that’s why everyone tells you their secrets,” I deadpan.

She cups her face in her hands and gives me a cheeky grin. “Are you sure it’s not my sparkly personality?”

Jules throws a napkin at Callie’s head. “It’s definitely not that, you news bag.”

Callie lays the napkin on her lap and then points her finger at us. “Consider yourselves lucky I don’t spill your juicy secrets. All of you have them.” Her gaze falls on me. “And you worst of all, Queen. If anyone finds out,” she says, lowering her voice, “I won’t be able to protect you.”

“As long as Nate can keep it in his pants, I can fake my way through it.”

Lifting my margarita in both hands, I take a long sip. The sweet, icy goodness tastes so damn good I wish I could drink the whole thing. But I have meetings this afternoon with my old team. My dad is making good on his promise to promote me with only one caveat. I have to close out all of my old projects and train my replacement. So, I need to be coherent by the time I get back to the office.