The Waiter Bradleigh Collins (autobiographies to read TXT) 📖

that was a hard decision to make. But it was the right one. You can never give up your career for a man, no matter how much you love him. Trust me, I know. And the fact that you wouldn’t let him give up his career for you, really shows how much you love him.”

“Thanks, Jackie.”

“And you know, there’s a lot of fashion happening in L.A. We should probably be covering more of it. I might have to send you out there from time to time. If you don’t mind that long-ass flight.”

I smiled at her. “Jackie, you’re the best boss I’ve ever had. I mean that.”

“And you’re the best Editor-in-Chief I’ve ever had,” she replied, hugging me. “Of course, you’re the only Editor-in-Chief I’ve ever had, but still.”

I put George’s thank-you card on the refrigerator with a calendar magnet from Peking Garden. My mobile phone rang. It was an “out of area” number. I answered, thinking it must be Dominic again. I’d already talked to him earlier this morning.

“Hey stranger.” Hearing Dalton’s voice on the other end of the phone startled me.

“How did you get my number?”

“I have ways.” That startled me even more. I’d gotten a new cell phone and a New York number shortly after I left Dalton. And now he had it.

“What do you want?”

“To say goodbye, Sam. I’m starting my new job on April third.”

“Oh.”

“Meet me for dinner tonight, so I can say goodbye in person.”

“Not a good idea, Dalton.”

“Why? You got plans with pretty boy?”

If he only knew how much I wished I had plans with Dominic tonight.

“Just not a good idea.”

“Come on, Sam. We both need closure. There are a lot of things I need to say to you. And I need to say them in person.”

“Fine. For closure. And for drinks. Not dinner.”

“Fine. Eight o’clock. Atlantic Grill.”

“Ugh,” I said. “How convenient for you.”

The Atlantic Grill was right around the corner from his apartment on the East Side. The apartment I had snuck out of five months ago. I hadn’t been back to the neighborhood since. But I certainly didn’t want him coming over to my side of the park.

“I thought you liked Atlantic Grill,” he said.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you at eight.”

I hung up the phone, knowing full well I’d just made a huge mistake. Sure, I wanted closure. But what I really wanted was revenge. I wanted to sit across from Dalton looking sexier than I’d ever looked before and watch it happen. To see the look on his face when he finally realizes that after all the lies, all the cheating, all the emotional bludgeoning I’d put up with for the last decade, I’m over him. One-hundred percent completely and totally over him. I was glad he was leaving New York. I would never have to worry about running into him again.

I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the apartment and finishing up my laundry. At seven-thirty, I was in a cab headed to the East Side. I was wearing a black and white zebra-print Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress with my black Kenneth Cole boots and a bright green wool coat. And of course, my Chanel bag. When I got to the restaurant, Dalton wasn’t there. How typical.

I grabbed a stool at the bar and ordered my usual. As soon as the bartender sat my martini down in front of me, someone sat down right next to me.

“Any chance I could buy that drink for you?”

I turned, expecting to see Dalton, but it wasn’t. It was just some guy I’d never seen before.

“Thanks,” I replied, “but I’m good.”

“You’re good alright. You’re fucking gorgeous. Excuse my French.”

“Fuck isn’t French,” I replied. “But thank you.”

“Hi,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m John.”

“I’m Sam,” I replied, shaking his hand. “And I’m kinda meeting someone here.”

“Well, can I keep you company until he gets here?”

“He is here actually.” Dalton was standing right behind John, towering over him and smiling down at me.

John turned around and looked up at Dalton.

“Oh, sorry man,” he said as he slithered off the barstool. “I was just keeping your girlfriend company here.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” I said, taking a sip of my martini.

“Well then, that’s definitely his loss,” John said before disappearing into the crowd.

Dalton plopped down on the barstool, shaking his head and laughing. He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

“Hi baby,” he said.

“I’m not your baby either. And isn’t it about time you tried a new cologne? That Eternity shit is nauseating.”

“You used to think it was sexy.”

“I used to think you were sexy.”

He smiled at me. Motherfucker. He was still sexy. He’d always be sexy. But it didn’t matter anymore. I still felt nothing. Except annoyed. And, based on the way he was looking at me, vindicated.

“You look incredible, Sam.”

“Thanks.” I took another sip. “Aren’t you drinking?”

“Yeah, sure.” He ordered a scotch. “Remember the last time we were here?”

“Yeah. We sat right over there. And we were fighting. We’d been fighting all day.”

“Had we?”

“Yep. I remember thinking that you and I should never go out to dinner in Manhattan because we were always fighting, and I was always too upset to finish eating my really expensive meal. Seemed like such a waste.”

He smirked.

“How are things with you and pretty boy?”

“He has a name, Dalton. It’s Dominic.”

“That’s a pussy name.”

“Speaking of pussy. How are things with you and Rhonda?”

“Over.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.” It came out as a hiss. Exactly the way it was intended.

“Look, Sam, I’m sorry I did that to you. I’m sorry I brought her to The Parlour and I’m sorry I cheated on you.”

“Which time?”

“All of them.”

I was stunned that he had given me an honest answer. And speechless. For the first time since I’d known him, he actually looked uncomfortable. He quickly changed the subject.

“So, did you get the flowers I sent you last month?”

“I did. They were beautiful. But you shouldn’t have sent them.”

On Valentine’s Day, I had gotten flowers from both Dominic and Dalton. Around ten o’clock