Josh called in sick to work the next day. I wanted to think it was because he was sorry, but deep down I knew it was because his face was probably bruised to a pulp, and he didn’t want to show up. Well, that was too bad. Unless he wanted to take the whole week off, he was going to have to show up sometime.

But I had today free of him. I had Nick Mason to thank for that.

Hey, where’s Josh? people said to me in the hallway at the bank branch I worked at in downtown Millwood. The central branch of this particular bank, in fact. The most important branch. The branch where the best people worked, because here they could get promoted.

These were nice people, well-dressed and pleasant, and they could recommend me when the next promotion came up. So I couldn’t just tell everyone to please, please fuck off.

Sick, huh? You see him? He okay?

I’d always liked it before, that everyone knew Josh was my boyfriend. It was a badge. A New Evie badge. Now it was like water torture, gritting my teeth and smiling at people, shrugging, shaking my head. I don’t know. I’m sure he’s fine. By lunchtime I felt like an overinflated balloon that might pop if you poked it.

I sat in my little bank teller cubicle and took customers one by one, while my stomach churned and I wondered what was wrong with me that Josh would cheat. Did I not pay attention to him? Did I do something wrong? Was a too boring, too fat? Then I hated myself for thinking like that. It was like someone had set a toxic thought chain off inside my head that wouldn’t stop.

But I didn’t make a fuss. I kept calm. I needed this job. I’d made a mess of high school and dropped out of college, and now, at twenty-five, I needed to do something with my life. Something that involved pencil skirts and low heels and regular paychecks. Something I could get promoted at. Something that made sense.

Josh had been part of that. I’d wanted—needed—someone stable, acceptable. Except either he’d been a very good liar, or I hadn’t seen what I didn’t want to see.

Okay, so my relationship had turned into a dumpster fire, but I would deal. Dumpster fires could be contained. I still needed the rest of my life to work.

By the end of the day, my jaw hurt like I’d had it in a vise, and the back of my neck was so tense it felt like glass. I had a throbbing headache and my feet hurt—but I’d made it. I was powering down the computer in my cubicle when one of my coworkers, Dar, came over, pulling on her coat. “Hey,” she said. “A bunch of us are going for a drink. Want to come?”

I pretended to think it over, though today of all days I’d rather put my eye out. “I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m tired.” Translation: I wanted to go home, put on my baggy pajamas, and curl up in bed, listening to my roommate Heather blare the Pet Shop Boys in her room. Heather’s musical taste was stuck in the eighties, but except for the REO Speedwagon, I didn’t really mind.

“Come on,” Dar said, zipping her coat. “It’ll be fun. Call up Josh. I bet he’s not even sick. He’ll probably come.”

My headache throbbed harder. I picked up my own coat from the coat rack. “The thing is, Dar, Josh and I broke up.”

Her nicely plucked eyebrows rose up to her hairline, but that was all. She blinked once. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry, I—” I stopped and stared at her. “You’re not shocked.”

“Sure I am,” she said, stepping forward and squeezing my shoulder. “I’m sorry, hon. Let’s go drink.”

“No, wait.” I pulled back and looked at her expression again. Dar was thirty, with dark blond hair and great makeup. “You really don’t look surprised.”

“Well…” She squeezed my shoulder again, uncomfortable, and dropped her hand. “You two just didn’t seem compatible, I guess.”

“What does that mean?” I was feeling a dark, awful twinge of panic deep in my chest.

“Well, you know.” Now she looked really uncomfortable and couldn’t quite meet my eyes. “You’re looking for something serious, and Josh wasn’t quite ready to settle down.”

There was a long, painful silence, as drawn out as a scream.

And it hit me. “Oh, my god,” I said. “You knew.”

Now she looked panicked. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“How could you possibly know?” I said. “I mean, how could everyone know except me? Did he wear a sign?”

“Honey, it isn’t like that,” Dar said. “It was just…” She trailed off.

“Just what?”

“They, um…” Dar looked like she wished she could sink into the floor. “They weren’t very discreet.”

Which meant everyone knew. Everyone.

I looked around. Margaret was packing up her purse. Adam was locking the front doors. Gail, my manager, was locking her office and leaving.

It was Gail who gave it away. She caught my eye quickly as she turned to go—the first time she’d looked at me all day. Then she gave me a little apologetic wave and hurried away.

Everyone knew.

“You should go out with Dave in Client Management,” Dar said. “He’s divorced, and a single dad. He’s super stable, dependable, and cute too. He was asking about you at the last Christmas party. I think he likes you.”

I jerked on my coat and picked up my purse. “I think I’ll just go home.”

I hurried through the parking lot—it was raining again—and got into my car, slamming the door. I was breathing hard. How was this happening? And how had everyone at the bank known about Gina? Had she come into the bank or something? Was she a customer? I had no idea how they’d even met. When they’d met.

So hey, your asshole of a boyfriend is cheating on you, Evie Bates.

All of those nice people at work, and not one of them had cared enough to tell me. Even though he was a jerk, Nick, at least, had had the guts to say the truth.

It was infuriating.

Maybe you should fuck someone, his low growl of a voice said.

“Be quiet,” I said out loud.

Get someone to fuck you until you can’t stand up.

“Shut up,” I said to the empty car. “I’m not fucking anyone. I’m going home to bed.”

Come meet me if you want to work up a sweat.

And then: You’re not the kind of woman I fuck.

Maybe he’d found someone else already. Some woman who looked like a Victoria’s Secret model, loved anal and one-night stands, and had no baggage. Dirty, he’d said. That seemed like Nick’s kind of woman, instead of neurotic bank tellers who had quit Weight Watchers twice and sat alone ranting and raving in their cars.

Have some orgasms. You’re missing out.

Those muscles. That ass. That mouth, that fuck-me voice. New Evie never got guys like that. God, I hated him.

I should have a guy like that. Hot, muscled, and dirty. A few hours of no-holds-barred fun for once, instead of it always being about who’s acceptable, who’s long term. Just… fucking. Like Nick had said.

Except not with Nick.

The phone rang, startling me out of my crazy thoughts. “Are you kidding me?” I said when I answered, because Josh didn’t deserve hello.

“Evie.” Josh’s voice was slightly muffled, probably because his nose was swollen. “We have to talk.”

“No,” I said. “We really don’t.”

“I get that you’re mad. What I did was wrong. Just don’t say anything at work, okay?”

“People already know,” I said. “In fact, people at work knew before I did.”

Now he sounded panicked. “Who told? What did they say?”

For God’s sake. Why did he sound so freaked about a secret that was already out? “Ask everyone yourself. Goodbye.”

“Wait, Evie, wait! Just give me a minute. I fucked up, I know. But our relationship wasn’t working. You know that.”

That hurt. “It seemed like it was working to me. But then again, I guess I’m not very smart.”

“Evie. You and I didn’t have very much… spark.”

This day, this awful day, blew past my limit at a hundred miles per hour. The words were out before I could stop them. “I have plenty of fucking spark!” I shouted into the phone, my voice bouncing off the close confines of the car.

There was a moment of stunned silence—from both of us.

“Okay,” Josh said at last. “But I’m worried about you, because you left with that guy last night.”

“Nick?” I said.

“Oh Christ, you know his name. Did you not see what he did to me? That guy is violent and crazy. He nearly broke my nose!”

“You slept with his girlfriend,” I pointed out.

“It was assault!” Josh was worked up now. “First degree! I could have had a concussion or something! I could have called the cops! That guy is a complete fucking animal. Don’t you know who he is?”

“Am I supposed to?” I asked. “Is he a rock star or something?” I could kind of see that, actually.

“No, he’s not a rock star, for God’s sake. He doesn’t do anything at all.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he doesn’t do anything. He has no job.” This, in Josh’s world, was a cardinal sin. “Gina told me all about him,” he ranted on. “He’s a spoiled rich kid. He lives off his trust fund. His own parents hate his guts. All he does is party—he does nothing but live it up. Stay away from him, Evie. He’s completely irresponsible and he has no respect for anything. He’s a loose cannon. He’s not the kind of guy you want to date.”

For a second, I almost said How do you know what kind of guy I want to date? Then I remembered that the kind of guy I wanted to date had been him. Until last night.

Strange. Nick hadn’t given any indication he was rich. His clothes certainly hadn’t given it away.

But I was sure Josh was right about this. If for no other reason than because Josh was so mad, and the only thing that could work him up like this was a guy who was cooler, better-looking, and richer—without working!—than he was.

“I thought Nick was hot,” I said, just to make Josh angrier. “All those muscles. And the way he punched you—definitely sexy.”

“Stop it,” Josh said. “I know what you’re doing, Evie. You’re trying to get back at me, and it’s childish. I’m just trying to help you.”

“Help me?”

“Nick Mason is scum. He’ll take advantage of you. Of your hurt feelings. You’re vulnerable right now.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said.

“Evie, come on, you’re smarter than this. You’d never stoop to date a guy like him. He’ll probably hit on you, because he’s that kind of jerk. I’m telling you, don’t do it.”

Josh didn’t know about Old Evie, because I’d never told him. Old Evie was my shameful secret, because Old Evie, in her day, had stooped pretty low. Josh, I realized now, would never have understood Old Evie. Never in a million years.

“You don’t get a say in who I date,” I told Josh. “Not anymore. Maybe I’d like Nick to come on to me. Maybe I’ll say yes when he does.” If he does. “At least he isn’t a cheater, and he’s hot.”

“Evie, stop acting like a child.”

“Fuck you, Josh. I have to go.” I hung up.

Chew on that, Josh.

I’d implied something would happen between me and Nick, without saying anything outright. It would probably bug him for hours. It was petty, and I liked it. I was allowed to be fucking petty.

But the words kept going through my head as I drove home.

All he does is party.

He’s completely irresponsible.

A loose cannon.

You’d never stoop to date a guy like him.

He was probably right. I’d met Nick, if only briefly, and all signs pointed to a guy who was lazy, irresponsible, and completely spoiled. Not to mention rude and insulting. The kind of guy I absolutely should have nothing to do with.

But it had made Josh so mad.

Josh had no idea, but he’d just made Nick Mason sound like the perfect man.