Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I asked Sheila to make reservations at what used to be one of our favorite restaurants when we were dating. When I got home, I placed the sheet of paper in plain sight on the counter where I worked when I was home. I stared at the piece of paper for a few seconds. Part of me wanted to snatch it away and just trust her. She was my Savannah, the woman I was going to marry. I was wrong about her.
Then I picked up my keys and headed out.
It was going to be an eventful night.
16
SAVANNAH
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOlzxfBSvp4
-The time of my life-
I examined my reflection once more and frowned. Was my lipstick too red? No, I was just not used to it. In fact, it contrasted well with my plain, but figure-hugging, black dress. The hem modestly stopped just below my knees. But my hand was already reaching for a tissue to blot it so it didn’t look so bright.
There, much better or did my lips just look dull now?
I twirled and looked into my eyes. Was that panic I saw there? Deception was not in my nature and this whole charade did not sit well with me. So why did I agree to it? Not because I wanted to help Robert, that was for sure. I was doing it for myself. Somehow I had to get Max out of my system, and the best way I knew was to get close to him again and see him as he really was. A man who would betray anyone for money. Maybe that way I can start to truly reject him. All this while I had been pretending to reject him. Now, I was going to do it for real.
The memory of him howling when he heard I’d lost our baby flashed into my head.
“There you go again,” I scolded my reflection. “Always grasping at straws. He was crying for his baby, not you. He doesn’t love you. He just wants your body. Get that through your thick head.”
I saw tears begin to pool in my eyes.
“No self-pity now. You can do this, Savannah. Max is not the nice guy you’ve made him out to be so get your sexual kicks out of the way and start to put things into their proper perspective.”
I leaned my forehead on the cold mirror and closed my eyes and tried to believe the words I was saying, but no matter how hard I tried to convince myself Max was the bad guy, there was something niggling at the back of my consciousness. A tiny seed of doubt that had me wondering if maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about Max. Perhaps apart from manipulating me with the donation, he was in fact, the good guy. One thing I knew for sure, every instance when I spent any time at all with Robert my instincts were screaming at me not to trust him. That and the tiny seed of doubt made me remember the Max I knew before that fateful night: the playful Max, the kind Max, the hardworking Max, the loving Max, the Max I adored with all my heart and soul.
I pushed the contradicting thoughts aside and focused on my assignment. No matter what I thought about Robert, the fierce desire for revenge I had seen in Max’s eyes was bordering on the obsessive and very unhealthy. If I could somehow make him see how destructive it was to him, perhaps as Robert said, we could all heal and go our separate ways.
I applied another coat of red lipstick, took one last look at myself before picking up my purse and heading downstairs.
The restaurant Max had chosen surprised me. Admittedly, I had not given a thought as to where we would dine, but when we pulled into the parking lot of Monticello, I could not help the genuine smile that creased my face. This had been our favorite Italian restaurant when we were dating. I wondered if the menu was still the same.
“Still hankering for their caprese salad?” he asked.
I looked at him, his profile illuminated by the lights from the dashboard. That was the thing about Max. He was so beautiful I wanted to touch the skin stretched over his cheekbones. “Haven’t had it in years,” I murmured.
He threw me a glance. “Why not?”
I shrugged. “A teacher’s salary doesn’t stretch to the delights of Monticello.”
He said nothing else until we were seated at the table. Unexpectedly, the evening was far more relaxing than I could have ever imagined. Conversation flowed freely and easily between us. It was like the four years apart had never happened. The caprese salad was exactly as I remembered it. Delicious. He forked some of his carpaccio into my mouth, and his eyes glittered when my tongue came out to lick at some oil that would have otherwise run down my chin. It was like a dream. Sometimes I even caught myself laughing. All too soon we were having coffee.