But I wanted to be stupid. I wanted Chris back. Talking about him day after day, reliving all the moments we had spent together—in those instants, it would feel like we were still together. I dreaded when the press junkets and the interviews waned, and I wouldn’t have an excuse to talk about him anymore.
It was affecting my work schedule. Instead of editing, I would surf the internet, looking for new or recent photos of him, wondering if he thought of me.
You were too harsh.
Maybe I would call him tomorrow—see how he was.
I checked my watch. It was only eight in the evening. I could go to the office and work. I needed to. But instead I sat back in my chair. I glanced over to the bar, trying to talk myself out of ordering another drink. I was running through the pros and cons of more alcohol when I caught the eye of a tall, brown-haired, blue-eyed guy—handsome. Crisp bespoke suit, French cuffs.
Chris fucking Winchester.
I glared at him, but he smiled at me, accepted two drinks from the bartender, and then sauntered over, moving through the room like he owned it.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he drawled, sliding one glass in front of me. “I couldn’t help but notice you over here alone.”
I sucked in a breath.
“It’s just,” he continued, “you seem kind of familiar. I just couldn’t place from where.”
What in the world?
“So,” he said, “I thought I’d buy you a drink and see if we couldn’t figure it out.”
I picked up the glass.
“You did, did you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t going to yell at him just yet because hehadbought me a cocktail when I sorely wanted one.
“So where do you think you know me from? Or is this a terrible pickup line?”
Chris gave me that lazy, sexy smile.
“Hardly a pickup line,” he said. “I’m not that classless. Besides,” he added, “now that I see you, I do know where I know you from.”
“Really,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.
“Yeah, I saw you onGood Morning Americayesterday,” he said. “You married that guy you never met.”
“What?” I laughed in spite of myself.
Chris grinned at me.
“I mean, no offense, but your ex… jeez, what a lunatic! I don’t know how you managed to stay married to him for as long as you did. He sounds like a moron. It’s shocking he was able to dress himself in the morning, let alone stay employed.” Chris shook his head in disbelief.
“But cheers to you for getting out of that cluster.”
He clinked his glass to mine.
I looked down at my cocktail, catching my lip in my teeth.
“He wasn’t all bad,” I said, my gaze flicking up to meet Chris’s familiar one.
“Seriously? He sounds like a real piece of work,” Chris remarked, taking a sip of his drink.
“He really wasn’t,” I said. “He was generous; he liked puppies, birds, and old people; he took me and my work seriously; and he did this freaking amazing thing with his tongue.”
Chris raised an eyebrow, grinning over his glass.
“You’re a lot more charitable than me,” Chris replied. Then he held out his hand.
