Everything

XXVII

Spencer was leaving for Costa Rica tomorrow morning, and I wasn't happy about it.

He said it was urgent. Unavoidable. Something he'd put off for far too long. It was a direct result of the meeting I'd tried to persuade him out of, in favour of spending the day with me.

"After all Adriana," he'd said in that cocky editor's tone of voice that was all too familiar, "I run an international organisation. I can't be expected to be in New York all 52 weeks of the year."

But I had been spoilt over the past two weeks, in my boyfriend's doting, worship-the-ground-you-walk on nature, and being forced to give him up for more than a day was going to be like weaning myself off an addiction. Difficult to say the least.

It was going to be a week-long stay, and that was part of the reason why I was so irritated. I'd wanted to accompany Spencer on his trip; he'd invited me along after he'd dropped the bombshell, post-coital, curled up in bed with his arm slung across my chest. But it would have been more than foolish to leave my new tenure open for a week, when I'd just started to get into the swing of things.

Then there was an impeding event which had me more than worried. Spencer and I had talked, and agreed to tell Alicia – and Antonio – about our relationship.

It was a task which just had to be done. It wouldn't be fair to leave them in the dark like this for any longer, and Spencer and I were so happy, we wanted to share our news with everyone.

We didn't think it was going to be all smooth sailing, but it was important to us, important to our friendship with Licia, and it was the right thing to do.

The date was set, Spencer would return from Costa Rica and then afterward, we would have Licia and Antonio around for lunch and broach the subject.

So, for now, it would be just me, the overly-clingy girlfriend getting anxious about her man's imminent departure, whilst trying patiently not to picture him in a myriad of scenarios with other supposedly unattached, and beautiful women. After all, he was 'single'. At least, as far as anyone else, entertainment tabloids included, knew.

For now, I would have to turn my attention to something of far more prescience, at least within the next few hours. And that something, was my ex.

Mark Holloway had called upon his rain-check to invite me to lunch, or rather, his secretary at the DA's office had phoned and pressured me into a meeting. It would be strange, interacting with Mark again, but I had decided to placate him. He was a slimy b*stard with far too many tricks up his sleeve, and, if I didn't at least make some attempts to pacify him, he'd put BWR on his person shit-list, indelibly.

Thus, we were meeting. He'd picked a restaurant a few blocks away from his office – inevitably for a quick getaway if he needed one – and I was to meet him at 1pm sharp during my lunch break.

Of course, this was a meeting that I had...neglected to tell Spencer about. He already had enough on his mind without having to deal with the drama of my former love life and my cheating ex-boyfriend. And, notoriously, the pair didn't get along. The last time Spencer had spoken about Mark, his words were something to the effect of 'f*cking scumbag' and a word that rhymes with blunt, which I don't wish to ever relay again. It was more than not getting on. I realised that now. Spencer hated Mark's guts, because he'd had the one thing Spencer wanted – namely, me. So, I simply left it out of conversation. I would meet Mark during the day, go back to work, head to the apartment in the evening, Spencer would never have to know.

Right?

*

I could see him through the window.