He sat down.
I studied him.
“You really do this for a living?”
“Not exactly. I’m an actor. Mostly theater. Commercial work when rent becomes persuasive.”
“And fake dates?”
“Occasionally.”
“Why?”
“Because weddings have better food than community theater.”
I laughed.
That was the first thing I liked about him.
The second was that he stopped joking the moment I explained what Mason had done.
Julian listened.
Really listened.
I told him about the affair.
The divorce.
The carefully crafted invitation.
The handwritten request that I come alone.
When I finished, Julian leaned back.
“So what do you want from Saturday?”
“To make Mason jealous.”
“No.”
I blinked.
“No?”
“You don’t want him back.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then jealousy isn’t the goal.”
He tapped one finger against his coffee cup.
“You want him to realize that leaving you didn’t ruin you.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
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