I’m working on finishing up book 2 in the Theories In Love series (which is full novella at this point) for late fall. There is definitely more shenanigans, not to mention Ben & Jenna, but this story belongs to Kasey Lane, a down-her-luck graphic designer who… Well, I’ll leave it there for now ;)
“You’re dumping me?”
I really could not believe this was happening. Every time. Every time I thought this week couldn’t get worse – BAM! It did.
“Come on, Kasey. You can’t be surprised by this.” Jason looked at me over the very nice, very expensive dinner he’d invited me to, pity shining through those narrowed eyes.
“You’re breaking up with me? Seriously?”
At the moment, I was more shocked than heartbroken. Although, as I pondered it, heartbreak would probably attack as soon as I was alone… in my apartment… my very empty apartment.
I’d have to sit on the floor to have a good cry.
“I’m sorry you’re so surprised,” Jason said, although he didn’t sound the least bit sorry.
“Surprised? I was supposed to move in with you this weekend.”
He tipped his head to the side and looked at me like he was humoring a child. “You can’t really move in now, can you?”
“Well, not if you’re breaking up with me I can’t, can I?” My voice was raised. It sounded a bit hysterical even to my own ears. People were beginning to look our way. Jason was going to hate that.
He reached across the table and wrapped his hand around mine, giving it a harsh squeeze. Even his fake comfort was… well, fake.
“If you moved in with me, how were you going to pay your half of the rent? I mean, were you going to be able to carry your weight?”
Carry my weight? We’d been dating for two years and now he was dumping me because I might not be able to pay rent on a condo he already owns for a couple months?
“Give me a break, Jason. I lost my frigging job yesterday. Do you think I have nothing in the bank? You pick the day after I lose my job to do this?” The hysteria was gone, filled to the brim in its place was near-blinding rage.
“The economy is tight. Who’s to say you’ll find something right away?”
I could not believe this. Could. Not. Believe it. Just last week we’d finished selling off all my furniture on Craigslist because his was already “fit” in his place. I’d canceled my lease, paid the fine to break it mid-cycle and was homeless as of the end of the month – which conveniently happened this coming Tuesday.
“Here.” He handed me card.
A card. I looked at the lavender sealed envelope and wondered if I was supposed to open it then. Did Hallmark really make a I’m-Dumping-Your-Ass-But-Good-Luck-With-Everything card?
“That’s the first month’s rent and half of the security you’d paid. I figured it was only fair to give it back.”
You think? I looked down at the card again wondering what he’d written in it. Tempted to open it right then. I really could not believe I’d given him a security deposit. That should have been the first sign right there.
“So, where exactly do you think I’m going to live?”
Scorn. I’d moved from rage to scorn.
I was now officially a woman scorned.
No wonder men weren’t supposed to cross us. If Hell had no fury like me at that moment, it still had a lot of leash to run on. I could have gutted him with that fancy fish knife resting against my plate.
“Well, I don’t want to sound heartless, but that’s not really my problem now, is it?”
The woman at the next table gasped and that’s when I realized most of the tables around us had fallen silent to the melodrama playing out that was my life.
“No. I guess not. I guess when you dump your girlfriend because she lost her job, you probably think just about nothing is your problem.” I pushed my chair out, wrapped myself in my Ann Taylor jacket and picked up my purse. “Oh, wait. You know what your problem is?”
He shook his head, a small smirk yanking his mouth up in cruel tips on each side.
“Getting Bordeaux out of cashmere.” I picked up our half empty bottle of wine and dumped it out of his head. “Good luck with that.”
I stormed away, a smattering of applause following in my wake. I was nearly blinded by angry tears by the time I reached the door.
“Please, let me.” The host pushed the door open and held it for me as strode into the crisp, fall night. “Good luck, miss.”
Yeah. I was going to need it.
And then the wackiness begins. There’s attacked BMWs, police reports, show-downs with Taxi drivers, a Belligerent Teen Batista… And that’s just in the first 3 chapters! Stay tuned this fall to find out how (ok, IF) Kasey gets back on track!