Page 2 of Crossed Wires: The Complete Series
When she’d replayed this scenario in her mind three thousand, four hundred and twenty-seven times—it had been a long-ass flight to Sydney—she’d always seen him standing in front of the crowd of families and friends waiting to welcome loved ones home. In her mind’s eye, he’d been smiling widely, holding flowers, maybe even a balloon. She’d imagined he’d give a true cowboy woot when she stepped through the doors and every woman around them would watch with jealousy as he rushed over to pick her up, spin her around and kiss her.
Instead, she’d watched all her fellow travelers receive those warm welcomes while she stood completely alone, in a foreign country.
How the hell did I get here?
She closed her eyes wearily, thinking of that fateful night when she’d met Dylan online, the night that had set her on this misguided, insane path.
It was all Monet’s fault.
“I can’t tell you how much better I feel. Thanks for coming over, Monet.”
“Wine cures everything,” Monet announced. “You know that.”
She and Monet had been neighbors in their high-rise Manhattan apartment building for nearly a year. They’d met on the elevator the day Monet moved in, and had clicked. Their friendship had flourished through numerous nights of drinking, broken hearts and, “oh my God, I just had awesome sex” chats.
“It cured my lousy day.”
Monet topped up her wineglass. Annie winced when she noticed it was empty. Hadn’t she just filled it up a few minutes ago?
“Damn.” Monet squinted at the bottle. “That one went fast. Should we go for broke and make it a three-bottle night?”
Annie giggled. “Sure. Why not? My hangover is pretty much guaranteed at this point.”
“So what’s wrong?”
“My boss skipped over me for another big assignment, the paparazzi were out in full-force this afternoon and I dumped Joel.”
Monet reared back. “That’s a lot of shit for one day. Let’s tackle this one at a time. Your boss is a prick. Why are you still working there?”
“Because it’s one of the few magazines in New York my father doesn’t own. You know how I feel about making it without his help.”
“Pardon me, Annie, but you’re not ‘making it’. That asshole boss of yours is working against you.”
Annie sighed. “I know.”
“What’s the deal with the paparazzi? Thought they’d become bored with you lately.”
“That’s actually connected to my breakup. Joel did a tell-all interview withPeoplemagazine where he casually hinted there may be wedding bells in our future. What the fuck is that about? We’ve been dating five months and I have zero intention of locking myself in wedded hell with anybody right now. He knows that.”
Monet took a sip of wine and looked at her sympathetically. “You think he was trying to force your hand?”
Annie was too familiar with the Joels of the world. Unfortunately, she also sucked at recognizing them until after they’d screwed her—figuratively and literally. “He wants a piece of the Prince pie. I’m freaking done with men.”
Monet rolled her eyes. “No, you’re not. You enjoy sex too much.”
“I’ll hire a paid escort.”
Monet laughed. “You’re a romantic at heart and it’s pretty obvious that’s never going to change. If all your asshole exes haven’t beaten that out of you, we can assume it’s a character flaw that will stick.”
“Great. So I’m destined for life as an old maid because every man in America wants my family’s money a hell of a lot more than they want me.”
“So broaden the search.” Monet leaned over and grabbed her laptop from the coffee table.
“What are you doing?”
Monet didn’t answer. Instead, she quickly tapped several keys on the computer then turned the screen around so Annie could see it.
“An online dating service? Be serious.”
