Perfect on Paper Read Free Page B

weirding me out even more. So thanks for the sampler platter and the drinks. See ya .”
    The girl washing her hands next to me smiled sympathetically and mouthed the words “Good luck” on her way out.
    I leaned my hip against the sink. “You should have heard me out there, Mackie. I was the conversational equivalent of a fish flailing around on the deck of a boat. How can I get out of here?”
    “Hmm, maybe you could say you have an early meeting?”
    “It’s only eight o’clock!”
    “Headache?”
    “Are you kidding me?”
    “You need to feed your cat?”
    “Okay, you’re not helping here.”
    She laughed. “It looks like you may just have to stick this one out.”
    “That’s it? Stick it out? That’s your advice?” I said.
    “I’m sorry, Wave, I can’t think of anything good. Unless you want to pull the food poisoning thing again?”
    I raised my eyebrows. That had been my go-to move back in the day. “Ooh, good call. That could work.”
    “Hey, at least you tried, right?” she said.
    “Yeah, I guess so. Thanks, Mackie.”
    I shut the phone and splashed some cold water on my face. Then I slapped my cheeks a couple times and put on my best I just barfed face. Damn that sushi I had for lunch….
    I walked back out to the table just as Rick was standing up.
    He grabbed his coat and held out his hand. “I’m sorry, Waverly, but I have an early meeting in the morning, so I’m going to have to call it a night. But it was really nice meeting you.”
    “Uh, okay,” I said softly, shaking his hand. What else could I say?
    He put on his coat. “So, I’ll see you around?”
    “Um, yeah, sure.” I couldn’t believe it. He was really up and leaving? Actually, I could believe it. I sucked.
    He handed me a fifty-dollar bill. “This should cover the check. Have a great night.” He smiled, then turned and walked away.
    I slowly sat down and stared at the huge tray of food in front of me. “Bye, it was nice meeting you too,” I said to the quesadillas. I tried not to look around in case anyone was watching me, the girl who just got out-ditched. Rick was probably already on his cell phone outside, telling one of his buddies that he’d been set up with a basket case.
    I picked up my beer and looked down at the outfit I’d chosen so carefully. Dark jeans, cute red top, black flats. Was the outfit at least more attractive than my conversational skills? I pulled my hair into a ponytail and looked down at my chest. Apparently I needed to invest in some remedial dating classes. And maybe a push-up bra.

One Year After the Breakup

CHAPTER THREE
    “Shane Kennedy, the NBA star?” McKenna said.
    I nodded and blew hot air into my fists. “Yep, that’s him.”
    “Hunter’s going to love that one,” she said. It killed her boyfriend that I didn’t really like sports but got paid to work with professional athletes, even though most of them treated me like, well, paid help.
    It was early on a cold morning in November, and McKenna and I were on one of our semiregular walks before work. We’d been doing them for years, and our route was always the same. We met in front of Peet’s Coffee on the corner of Fillmore and Sacramento in Pacific Heights, then walked down the steep slope of Fillmore to the Marina Green yacht harbor, over to the Palace of Fine Arts, and back up the steep steps of Lyon Street. It took about an hour, and getting up early was brutal (we’d long given up trying to get Andie to join us), but it was well worth it. As we walked we talked about everything under the sun, which had been very cost-effective (i.e., free) therapy for me since the breakup.
    “Well, if this guy’s like most of the professional athletes we deal with, I can only hope he’s not a total nightmare,” I said. The next day I was off to Atlanta for the Super Show, the largest trade show in the sporting goods industry. Shane Kennedy was flying in to launch a new basketball shoe, and the whole world wanted to interview