Read Online The Ex Files by Victoria Christopher Murray - Free Book Online Page A

“Never mind,” and he was gone before she could ask him anything more.
    She stared at the door long after he left. What was he going to say? It was the way he had looked at her—there was something behind his eyes. Was it regret? She wondered if he was sorry now that he’d pressed the EJECT button on their marriage. Maybe he wasn’t so happy with Sabrina. Maybe the divorce papers made him realize what he was giving up. Maybe the dreams she’d been having could somehow come true; maybe she and Anthony could reconcile.
    She shook her head. Too many maybes. And she didn’t want to be with him anyway—did she? Not when she hated him so much—didn’t she?
    Maybe .
    Slowly, her lips curled upward. She lifted the folder, intent on focusing on the financials Anthony had just given her. But before she returned to work, she tucked thoughts of her husband and her new hope deep inside her heart.

Chapter Twelve
    A SIA
    Asia strutted into Crustaceans and removed the oversized leopard-framed sunglasses that matched her cashmere jacket. Her fingers strummed an impatient beat against the podium.
    “Ms. Ingrum,” said the young hostess when she finally appeared, “Ms. Jones is waiting for you at your regular table.”
    With a curt nod, Asia maneuvered through the tables occupied by LA’s finest: television personalities and movie stars, music moguls and fashion models. Not one of the famous faces fazed her. This was her world.
    Noon, her best friend, was sipping chardonnay when Asia slipped into her chair. “I thought you’d never get here.”
    Asia eyed her wine. “Didn’t stop you from starting.” She raised her hand and their regular waiter was at her side within seconds. “I’ll have an apple mojito and I need that quick.”
    Her friend put down her glass. “Snappy today.”
    Asia flung her hair over her shoulders. “I’m not in a good mood.”
    “Don’t tell me. Bobby.”
    “Who else?”
    “Oh, please.” Noon waved her hand as if she were swatting a fly. “You and Bobby have that make up thing so down, who knows what kind of gift you’ll get this time?”
    “This time…it’s not that kind of party.” She paused as the waiter approached their table. Before he could set down her drink, she grabbed the glass, tossed aside the straw, and took a swallow.
    He asked, “Will you be having the usual?”
    “Definitely,” Noon said.
    “No, I’m having the specialty burger, medium rare.”
    Both the waiter and Noon raised their eyebrows. For the years the friends had made lunch at this upscale eatery their habit, neither ventured from the salads. And Asia always took hers dry, not even allowing high-calorie dressing to pass between her lips.
    When the waiter left them alone, Noon said, “Must have been some fight.”
    Asia twirled the glass in her hand before she swallowed almost half of her drink. “Bobby says he’s going back to his wife; he says we’re over.”
    This time Noon took a long gulp of her wine.
    Asia frowned, said, “Bobby wants to leave me,” waiting for shock, outrage, something other than silence from her friend.
    Still, Noon said nothing.
    Asia glared at her. “Hold up. You knew?” Her teeth were clenched.
    Noon held up her hands. “I didn’t know about this.” She paused. “But I’m not surprised.” Another beat. “I saw Bobby…with his wife…last week.”
    “What?”
    “At the ESPN press party. I was shocked when he was there with her and not you.”
    “He took her to a party here in Los Angeles?”
    Noon nodded. “They were all hugged up.” The look on Asia’s face made her add, “It was disgusting.”
    “I cannot believe you went to that party…with her.”
    “I went there with Marcus.”
    “This was last week and you’re just telling me?”
    “Marcus told me not to breathe a word.”
    “That never stopped you before.”
    “But this time it was like Marcus was holding you up as an example of what would happen to me if I said anything. It’s not like I