Read Online Lost by Joy Fielding - Free Book Online Page A

right?”
    “Right.”
    “I was horrible in math. It was my worst subject.”
    “English was my worst.”
    “My best,” Cindy said.
    There was a moment’s silence. “Can we go back to talking about sex now?” Neil asked, and Cindy laughed in spite of her desire not to.
    “Can we just forget I said anything about that?”
    “That might be difficult.”
    “Can we try?”
    “Absolutely.”
    Another moment of silence. “Look, I’m obviously not very good at this.”
    “At what?”
    “This whole scene. Dating. You know.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “Well, I’m not exactly a sparkling conversationalist.”
    “On the contrary. You sure got my attention.”
    Again Cindy laughed. “Yeah, well, sex is a cheap way to get someone’s attention.”
    “Not always so cheap.”
    Cindy quickly finished off the wine in her glass. “So, what
did
Trish tell you about me?”
    Neil sat back in his chair, gave the question several seconds thought. “She said that you were bright, beautiful, and extremely picky when it came to men.”
    “Which is a nice way of saying I haven’t had sex in three years,” Cindy heard herself say before throwing her hand over her mouth. “God, what’s the matter with me?”
    “You haven’t had sex in three years,” Neil answered with a sly smile.
    A wave of heat spread across Cindy’s face and neck, like a sunburn. She felt all eyes staring at her. “Maybe I should just make a general announcement. Hell, I think there are some people in the far corner over there who might not know.”
    “Why haven’t you had sex in three years? Are you really that picky when it comes to men?”
    “Prickly
is probably a better word,” Cindy admitted. “Men don’t like angry women.”
    “And you’re an angry woman?”
    “Apparently.”
    I’ve always had trouble dealing with your anger
, her ex-husband had told her.
    “You okay?” Neil asked.
    “Yes. Why?”
    “I don’t know. You just got this funny little look on your face.”
    “I’m fine,” Cindy said. “I mean, other than the fact that I feel like a total idiot, I’m fine.”
    “I think you’re charming. I’m having a great time.”
    “You are?”
    “Aren’t you?”
    Cindy laughed. “Actually, yes. I am.”
    “Good. Have some more wine.” He filled both their glasses, then clicked his glass against hers. “To angry women.”
    Cindy smiled. “To brave men.”
    (Memory: Tom’s voice on the answering machine:
Hi, it’s me. Look, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come right out with it. I’m leaving. Actually I’ve already left. Call me a coward, and a few other choice words I’m sure you’ll think of, but I just thought it was better if we didn’t speak in person. You know I’ve always had trouble dealing with your anger. Anyway, I’m at the Four Seasons Hotel. Call me when you stop swearing
.)
    “So, Trish tells me you work in Hazelton Lanes,” Neil was saying.
    “Yes. A friend of mine owns this neat little jewelry store. I help her out three afternoons a week.”
    “How long have you been doing that?”
    “About seven years.”
    “Since your divorce?”
    “Trish told you about that?”
    “She said you’ve been divorced seven years.”
    This was the part of dating Cindy liked least. The emotional résumé, where you were expected to trot out your dirty laundry and bare your soul, vent your frustrations, recount your pain, and hope for a sympathetic ear. But Cindy had no interest in trotting, baring, venting, and recounting. And she’d long since given up on hope. She took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to get this over with as quickly as possible, so listen carefully: My husband walked out on me seven years ago for another woman, which was no huge surprise since he’d been cheating on me for years. What was surprising was that my older daughter chose to go with him, although I probably shouldn’t have been so surprised because she was always her father’s little princess.