“Yeah, that could have been anyone in California.”
“I could swear that I met him,” Wren said, her long, blond hair swishing as she shook her head.
“I guarantee you didn’t. I’ve never brought any guys to any events because Grant doesn’t exist.”
“Huh. I wonder who I met, then. Maybe Brochelle’s fiancé.”
“Yeah, maybe. Look, about Cash—”
“I can’t believe that you’re finally having your fling with him. We all thought that you were immune or something.” She batted her eyelashes at herself, checking for mascara flakes. “Well, we all thought you were married.”
“Did he ever call you anything while you guys were going out? Like a pet name?”
Wren frowned. “Like what?”
Like lieveke. “I don’t know, like sweetheart or honey? Or something in Dutch?”
Wren’s frown slipped to the side, uncomprehending. “Why would he call anybody something in Dutch?”
“Or whatever? Something British or German or something?”
Wren’s gaze rose toward the white stripes of the ceiling lights. “I don’t think so. How come?”
“He’s—” Rox searched her own eyes in the mirror. Her eyes looked afraid, overly large and dirt brown. “It seems like he’s coming on strong.”
“Is he pressuring you to do things that you don’t want to?” Wren asked, her hand moving across the counter to touch Rox’s wrist.
“No, no. Not like that.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t have to pressure anyone,” she smirked.
“Did he make you believe that he was in love with you? Is that why everyone walks around all mopey and with a broken heart afterward?”
“He never did anything like that,” Wren mused. “He never said that he loved me, that’s for sure, and I’ve never heard anyone else talk about love with him, either. He’s not a lovey-dovey duck, you know? He never talks about himself. Never told me anything about his childhood or growing up in London or what England was like.”
Evidently, Cash had never told her that he was Dutch.
“We never went out with anyone else, either. It was always just him and me, and it was more intense that way.”
“So you never met his friends or anything.”
“Oh, Lord, no. We always went to hotels. Who were those guys, playing basketball with him?”
“Just some guys he knows. So you never went back to his house?”
“No. Never his house. But we didn’t hang out much in L.A., either. Either we flew somewhere or he drove us somewhere. I have a theory that he doesn’t even have a house, that he spends all his salary on that car, his clothes, and dates.”
Oh, that wasn’t true, either.
“If anything,” Wren continued, “I was very conscious the whole time that it was just fun and games, and nothing that intense and shallow could last very long. He’s like a laser that way, intense light, but it only touches the surface and bounces off anything hard, and it has no mass, no gravity.”
Rox curled her hands into fists. “Then why is everyone so miserable when he ghosts on them?”
“He’s like catnip, you know? He’s fun and a little freaky, and you have a great time laughing with him. Hanging out with him is wild. I never got into the office before ten-thirty. Sometimes eleven. It does feel like a game when you’re with him. Not a winner-loser type of game. A non-zero-sum game where you both win, but it’s definitely a game. And the dates! I didn’t even have a passport when we started dating, and he got one expedited for me so we could go see a symphony in Milan that first weekend. And it was fashion week there, too, so he bought me a bunch of clothes.”
“So, that’s it? It’s just that he buys girls a bunch of stuff and takes them on expensive dates?”
“It’s more like getting on a roller coaster for a couple of weeks or months. When you get off, your legs feel funny for a while, and you want to ride it again because you were laughing and screaming the whole time.”
“So you just liked riding him.”
Wren laughed. “Yeah, there was that, too. He’s a fun ride.”
Rox flinched.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to talk about him like that to you. While you’re in the moment, it’s a rush, and you should enjoy the game while it lasts.”
She bit her lower lip. “What did he do before he ghosted on you? How did you know that he was going to?”
Wren glanced at her from the sides of her dark eyes. Her voice tightened. “I didn’t. He blindsided me. He blindsides everyone, every time. He just closes up.”