Free Sweet Little Lies by Michele Grant Page B

tale. Let me give you the quick and dirty version of how Jayson Day became Jay / David.” I launched into an abbreviated version of the tale. Even as I was telling it, I couldn’t believe how off-the-wall it sounded.
    Carey felt the same way.“So who the hell is he exactly?”
    “Beyond a married man with children, I don’t know.”
    “Do you even know if that’s true?”
    Huh. I hadn’t thought about it.Truthfully, once he spun his tale—what was I supposed to do with that? It no longer mattered whether he was married, a spy, a technician, a father. He was no longer who I thought he was and definitely not my fi-ancé.“I honestly don’t know.”
    She paused while the waiter set down our drinks and ap-petizers.“Well, do you think you should get an explanation?”
    “To what end? I mean, there’s nowhere to go once someone tells you their entire life is a lie. I’m done.” Saying it out loud, I realized it was true. I had nothing else to say to Jay / David and didn’t feel I needed to hear anything else out of him.
    She lifted her glass in a toast.“On to the next, then. Is that where Young Steven comes in?”
    “Oh no—this is just a fling,” I reassured her, or myself. “There’s no future here.We’re just having fun.”
    “Christina, be careful. You two have a chemistry that’s obvious. Just make sure that he knows it’s just a fling.”
    “He knows. He’s the one who came up with the term ‘fling.’ I didn’t know what to call it.”
    “All right,” Carey warned. “I’m just going to say for the record that Young Steven doesn’t look at you like a man who’s having a fling.”
    “Carey—believe me. We have gone over this. He starts an intensive master’s/PhD program next week. He has goals and plans and no time for some thrice-spurned, burned-out older chick from way across the country.”
    “Is that what you are now? Thrice spurned and burned out?”
    I shrugged.“I kinda am.” How depressing was that?
    “Christina.” She reached across the table to touch my hand.
    I squeezed back. “I know…this too shall pass. Enough about me.What’s going on with you and Bryan?”
    Now she was the one who looked sad.“Well, it’s not getting better. How sober do you need to be when Steven shows up?”
    “Oh—uh, it’s a three-mojito story?”
    “Definitely.”
    “Steven is ever so resourceful. He’ll pour us into cabs if he has to. Drink up and start talking.”
    “Shouldn’t I be lifting your spirits?”
    “I’ll be okay.”
    Carey pursed her lips. “I forgot, you’ve got Young Steven to, um—elevate your mood.”
    “Now, now—don’t be hatin’.”
    “No hate, but brunch is on you.”
    We settled in to catch up.

12
Someday Maybe, but Not Today
    Steven—Tuesday, August 17, 7:24 p.m.
    S itting in the airport lounge across from Christina, I was still debating whether I should really just let her go.Yeah, yeah…I know what we agreed, but that was five days ago. It seemed like a whirlwind and a lifetime ago.
    For the past five days we had spent twenty-two out of every twenty-four hours together. And it never got old, awkward, or uncomfortable.The very cool thing about Christina: She remained the same person, no matter where we went or who we were around. And I liked who that person was. Straightforward, funny, complicated, and sexy as hell.
    We talked a lot. About any and every thing. She told me about her ex-fiancés, and my regard for her grew. She had been reckless with her heart, but she was a survivor. I felt honored to be spending time with her.
    We went to a music industry party, brunch with her friends, a visit to her office, another visit to my apartment to hang out with the roommates, back to dinner with Chef David, and dancing again. It was all so effortless.There was a flow and symmetry to our togetherness that was instantly addictive.Speaking of addictive—the bed game was ridiculous. Chemistry kicked up another forty degrees. How often did all of that