The Boyfriend List (2 page)

“Actually I can’t.” She confessed, regretfully eyeing
the door in front of her.
 
“I’ve
already got plans.”

“Meeting a secret lover for a hot affair?
 
What would Justin think about that?” He
teased.

Very little at
the moment
,
was her first thought as she scrunched up her nose at the mention of her
recently ex-boyfriend’s name. Ian still didn’t know what had happened, and she
wasn’t quite ready to tell him yet since he often took the news harder than she
did herself. Considering the unfavorable feelings he’d already established
toward Justin, she could only imagine the reaction he’d have. “No, you’re my
only secret in that department.”

A drawn out, arrogant
Aahhh!
could be heard from the other end. “Which of course
translates to you’re meeting up with Petra.”

“An emergency lunch might have been called.”

“And you didn’t invite me.”
Sigh
.

It was hardly a convincing act of disappointment, she
thought. Her two best friends had always gotten along, but she often wondered
if it wasn’t only for her sake. They seemed to butt heads more often than they
agreed on anything. Still, Petra was a little more his type as far as appearances
were concerned...

“You can stay far away from my friends, thank you very
much. I don’t have time to counsel their broken hearts on your behalf. What are
you doing tonight though?”

He ignored her accusatory comment. “Nothing, if you
want to take me out on a date.”

“How many times are you going to hint?” She couldn’t
even get the question out without laughing, it had always been a running joke
between them.

“Until I get an honest reply.”

But this time,
this
time
, the way he answered threw her off. It wasn’t so much his actual statement,
as that had been his canned answer since the joke had begun. But there was
something in the tone of his voice, the quality of it that had changed somehow.
It had deepened, softened, and she could almost feel the shift reverberating
through her body. If she hadn’t known better, if she hadn’t known everything
there was to know about him, including the type of girl he was attracted to,
she almost could’ve been led to believe that his statement had been sincere.

It was one of those moments that had happened so
infrequently she could probably count them on one hand. And yet here she was,
completely caught off guard by him. Completely speechless. Completely
mesmerized.
No freakin’ wonder the man
has lines of females falling at his feet!
, she decided. And here she’d
begun to think she’d become impervious to his charm over the years. Apparently,
she was wrong. Again. Go figure.

But this was Ian, she reminded herself. And he was
never serious about anyone, or anything. He was playing around, as usual. She
had to remind herself that. Deep breath, recover, ready to go.

 
“I might.
If you’re lucky.” She’d succeeded in keeping her voice light. Barely. “Gotta
run. Call me later. Bye.”

“Bye, Beautiful.”

She could almost hear his smile, if that were at all
possible.

There was still something lingering in the center of
her stomach as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. But Regan did her
best to push the sensation further down and ignore it.
Hunger
, she decided. It had to be hunger, she was absolutely
starving. She’d been watching as droves of characters filed through the
revolving doors in endless lines. Hungry people with discontented faces entered,
and satisfied, smiling people emerged. The whiffs of air that were coming from
inside were absolutely delectable and her stomach growled angrily at her
refusal to move forward.

Running a hand quickly through her shiny, caramel
hair, she listened to the demands of her body and braced herself as she pushed
against the polished rod of the door.

With the slightest crack of opening came volumes of
noise pouring from within that hadn’t been audible on the outside. She quickly
found herself being jostled between the starving artists in consignment and the
CEO’s in Armani, and it was yet another reason why she cherished the place, she
thought. Besides its food, Blue Nickel provided a great atmosphere and a
never-ending supply of characters with which she could hone her people watching
skills.

 
Bumping
and excusing her way through the crowd with as much dignity as she could
muster, Reagan eventually slipped past the hostess and away from the waiting
area. A quick scan of the dining room, and she saw a jewel bedecked hand as it
shot up over the heads of the other diners and enthusiastically waved her over.
Thank god!
, she thought as she rushed
to the seat, unable to fathom how early Petra must have gotten there to not
only already be seated, but have a tall glass of raspberry tea waiting for her
at the table. Sometimes, Petra managed to be surprisingly thoughtful...

After a quick peck on the cheek from her friend, Reagan
plopped down into the cozy booth and sipped the tea from the thin, plastic
straw. Instantly the dull throbbing at her temples began to subside and her
mood brightened just a little more. It was good to have her friends back in
town.

She smiled at the colorful costume Petra had chosen to
celebrate the warm spring weather in. The vivid tones of pink brought out the
rose in her porcelain skin, and her long, golden hair was laying in loose curls
down her back against the simple, fitted dress. It must’ve been new, she’d not
yet seen the ensemble. But she didn’t expect anything less of her. Nothing had
changed much over the fourteen years that they’d known each other. Petra had
been just as high maintenance then as she was now. And just as spoiled then as
she was now. Refusing to wear the same outfit twice? That was just part of the
package that was Petra. She was another kind of annoyingly perfect, with
annoyingly perfect parents who were rich enough to cater to her every whim. But
she managed to be real enough – and blunt enough on many an occasion
– that you just couldn’t help but to like her. And if there was anything
Petra was, it was fiercely and undeniably loyal. Despite their many other
differences, they at least had a common ground on that.

 
“And how
was
your
spring break?” Reagan
inquired, hoping to divert the attention off herself for as long as possible.

Petra’s eyes lit up at her through dark, false lashes.
Not waiting another instant, she dove into her long and winding tale of her
trip to Italy.

CHAPTER TWO

Petra
appeared to have embodied the expression
when
in Rome
, and had taken every possible opportunity of enjoyment the country
had presented to her – including a hot affair with one of the locals who
hadn’t spoken a word of English...and whose name she still couldn’t recall.
Reagan wasn’t sure if it was the speed with which Petra was recounting the
tales, or the graphic details she’d suddenly become privy to, but something was
making her head spin and she wasn’t all together certain it was in a good way.
Food
, her stomach reminded her,
you need food,
and then she tuned Petra
out so she could take another quick glance through the menu. Not that she
really needed to, she practically had the thing memorized at this point.

Thankfully,
the waitress had approached their table at just about that time, providing a much
needed break in Petra’s fountain of conversation.

The
baby greens salad with strawberries and cashews for Petra, dressing on the side
of course. And a mushroom-onion burger with side of seasoned fries for Reagan.
Oh, and add Swiss to the burger, please. And another refill on the super syrupy
raspberry tea.

“Are
you really going to eat that?”

Reagan
raised an eyebrow while eyeing her friend closely. “There’s nothing wrong with
eating a burger once in a while.” Though ‘once in a while’, in Reagan’s book, was
a very gray line that allowed for much culinary pleasure. And anyway, if ever
she’d earned the right to indulge, she was fairly certain it would’ve been this
past week.

“You’ll
clog your arteries.”

“And
enjoy every minute of it.” A mischievous smile appeared as she envisioned the
big, juicy burger the way it sat on top of a fluffy round bun, all nestled
between crisp lettuce and melted, gooey cheese. “Can you honestly say the same
when you munch on veggies all day?”

Petra
narrowed her eyes. “No comment.”

“Thought
so.” Pleased with herself, she leaned back in her seat and tried not to think
about how long the kitchen would take to produce her perfect meal. Maybe she
should’ve ordered the lobster spinach dip to hold her over. “How early did you
get here to get this seat anyway?”

“I
just got here.” Petra shrugged at Reagan’s obvious expression of shock. “I know
people. So spill it.” Setting her elbows on the table, she appeared to be
settling in for all the gossipy details she was just sure Reagan would have for
her.

Reagan,
however, was more willing to play oblivious than recount the awful horror that
had become her spring break. “Spill what?” The smile of satisfaction that had
previously alighted her lips instantly dropped.

But
her best friend had known her far too long for the little charade to work. “You
know
what.
I see it in there waiting
to come out. You’ve just heard all about my trip, and I know you’re dying to
tell me what happened on yours.”

And
by
trip
, Petra of course meant
hookup
. And no, Regan unfortunately had
nothing to give her on that topic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But
of course, unfortunately, she did.

“J.U.S.T.I.N.”
Petra finally spelled out for her, hands flying around in frustration. “Did you
two finally hook up during spring break or what?”

All
conversation was abruptly dumped in Reagan’s lap, and she wasn’t exactly
thrilled with it. There was nowhere for her hide now – physically or
verbally, so she took a long, deep breath and let it out again just as slowly. “You
don’t
really
want to hear about that,
do you?”

“Oh
come on! He’s the first guy you’ve been serious about in a long time. Inquiring
minds need to know. Was it good or not?” There was something in Reagan’s eyes
just then that made Petra tilt her head in confusion. “Reagan. What happened?
What are you hiding from me?”

 
“Well…” Reagan started slowly, drawing
out the word as she tried to collect her thoughts on how to civilly discuss the
topic. They were in public, after all. Her real thoughts would have to be
censored. A little. “Justin hooked up with someone during spring break all right,”
She shrugged as she focused on the condensation around her tea glass, “but that
someone wasn’t me.”

“What?”
It was clear by Petra’s expression that her question hadn’t been one of
disbelief, but that she truly wasn’t catching on to the concept. Regan gave her
the look
to help her along, then watched
as her jaw dropped in astonishment. “Oh Reag...” Her voice was barely above a
whisper after the long pause, and it seemed as though she wasn’t quite sure how
to finish her statement.

 
“Yeah.” Reagan agreed with her unspoken remorse.

“Asshole.”

“Yeah.”

“How?
Who?”

“I
don’t know her name, but I do know what the slut looks like.” Reagan grinned
wickedly. “She was stupid enough to post the picture to her Facebook, and someone
else saw it and was kind enough to text it to me. And the how part... I frankly
just don’t want to know.”

After
scrolling through her photos and finding the right one, she slid her phone across
the table to Petra, and waited as her friend absorbed every last detail of the
dark, exotic looking girl cuddling on the pier in Justin’s arms. The large lake
was spread out behind them with the sun just touching the edge of the water.
The whole thing
would’ve
been very picturesque,
she admitted to herself...had it not been
her
boyfriend in the photo with someone else.

“Don’t
they look happy? It makes me want to hurl.”

“But...I
thought
you
were supposed to go the
lake house with him. How’d he end up there with someone else?”

Reagan
finally relented, and recounted every last detail of how she’d already been
packed for the weeklong trip when she finally got the text that he was
supposedly being dragged to his cousin’s wedding in Montana instead, and would
have to take a rain check. A text! Of course, there was never any wedding in
Montana, and he’d never officially broken it off with Reagan. Which somehow
made the situation even worse.

“What
are you going to do now? Have you talked to Justin yet?” Petra’s voice raised a
full octave with every question.

“
Talk
isn’t exactly the word I’d use to
describe the conversation, but we’ve…communicated, yes. We probably won’t be
talking again for a long, long time.”

“Good
for you.” Petra nodded in approval. Then something in her expression shifted.
Something that warned Reagan her friend was cultivating devious thoughts. “You
know, we could easily find out who she is with that picture.” The gleam in
Petra’s eye was causing Reagan some concern. People always say that karma’s a
bitch, but karma had nothing on Petra when it came to defending her friends.