I wince, picturing my red, sweaty face. “Nobody is asking me out after a workout, trust me. Besides, lately I’ve only been managing to get to the gym like once a week, at most. Not good enough odds.”
Myles laughs. “Well, you could meet someone through friends.”
“True. That is a bit of an untapped resource. I guess I just feel a bit pathetic asking them to set me up.”
“Yeah, I get that. What about through work?”
“Nope. I run a tiny store with one female employee, and the customers are mostly women.”
“Oh, right. Yeah I heard you say something about your shop on your last date. What’s it called?”
“Loved Again,” I say with a proud smile. “I sell vintage clothes.”
“Did you sort out the problems you were having?”
My smile slides away and I sigh, leaning my elbows on the bar. “No. Well, sort of. I know what I have to do, I just don’t know how. I think I’m in for a bit of an uphill battle. All thanks to my stupid ex-husband. That guy is the bane of my life.”
Someone climbs onto the stool beside me and I sneak a glance at him. He’s tall, muscular, light-haired, handsome. And he looksreallyout of place in here—more like he should be in a fancy cocktail bar in the financial district. When he turns to look at me, I realize who he is.
“Shane?”
His face breaks into a grin. “Yeah.”
“I’m Cat.” I take in his expensive suit as I extend my hand. Poor guy, I don’t know why he agreed to meet me here. Still, I’m not interested in a guy, no matter how rich or fancy, if he can’t appreciate a funky place like this. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Sure.” He turns to Myles, ordering a whiskey. Taking his drink, he fixes his attention back on me. “This place is… interesting.”
“Yeah. It’s my brother’s bar, so I’m here a lot. I like it.”
I do love this place. Not just because Cory owns it and I get free drinks, but because I love the funky vibe, the fact that it’s a bit of a dive, that it’s not taking itself too seriously. Most of the East Village is like that. The brick buildings and row houses, similar to the West Village, feel different over here. There’s more street art, more cute and fun shops like mine, more low-key bars like this. Even though I love my apartment, I can’t say I’ve always felt as though I belong in the West Village. It’s so much more upmarket, with designer stores and fancy restaurants that aren’t really my thing. But it was where Mark wanted to live, years ago, and I guess I’ve just never left.
Shane smiles over his whiskey. “You work around here, right?”
“Yeah. I have a shop a few blocks over, selling vintage clothes along with my own designs.”
“How’s business?”
“Great,” I say without thinking. But I decide not to correct myself. It doesn’t seem wise to tell this insanely handsome and obviously successful man that I’m on the brink of losing everything. From the corner of my eye, I see Myles watching with interest as he hands a Budweiser to a guy down the bar, and I give Shane a carefree laugh. “What do you do?”
“I’m in real estate.”
Real estate? Wow. He looks like he’s doing alotbetter than Mark.
“That’s cool,” I say, twirling my straw.
Shane nods, letting his gaze dip down to my dress and back up to my face. But it’s okay, because I’m sizing him up, too. Sandy blond hair, golden stubble lining his sharp jaw, hazel eyes, and a suit that I can tell is worth a few thousand, easy. This guy is hot—like,seriouslyhot. Why on earth is he on a dating app? I inhale to ask him, but he speaks first.
“So, what are you doing on Tinder anyway? You seem like a perfectly nice chick.”
“Oh.” I huff a laugh. “Yeah, well. It’s hard to meet people, I guess.”
“You’re divorced, right?”
“Yep,” I say, stirring my drink. The mention of Mark reminds me of my store. Somehow, speaking to this gorgeous man I’d let myself forget about it, but I feel a fresh wave of dread. I can’t stop the thoughts that pile in on top of each other, reminding me I’m up shit creek.
Shane clears his throat and my focus snaps back to him.
“Sorry,” I mumble, feeling heat creep up my neck. “Yes, I’m divorced. But… uh, my ex and I are on good terms.” Well, we were… once.
