Cheating on Myself Read Online Free PDF Page A

street. Her tottering high-heels kept her from moving fast, and indifference about making people wait made her move even slower. Even though tardy people made me jittery, Catherine had been one of my best friends for more than ten years. She was also Erik’s sister, which had made her both “family” and a friend—and the girlfriend I was most dreading talking to that night.
    Cat giggled. “I’m always late. It’s my thing. You, however, ought to have arrived first.”
    “I’m turning over a new leaf,” I grumbled, not ready to share my news yet. Judging by Cat’s lack of panic, Erik hadn’t told his sister—or, obviously, his mom—about our breakup yet.
    “Oh em gee,” Cat said, grasping at my elbow with her tiny, manicured hand. Cat was five-foot-two and tiny, one of those people who made me feel like an ogre. She weighed less than my left thigh. Cat was also a mother of two, and had been known to eat exclusively leftover macaroni and cheese and hot dogs for three days straight. She ate like a child, and had now started to talk like one, too. Things like “OMG” and “natch” and “whatevs” had started to roll off Cat’s tongue less than a week after hiring a live-in French au pair who had apparently mastered English watching old episodes of Gossip Girl and Glee .
    “You will not believe what Jana Mancini said to Taylor at school today. I think she’s putting her on a diet. A diet! Taylor is six. Can you imagine the issues that kid is going to have if her starved mother is making her diet at six?”
    Cat carried on, telling me all the latest gossip from Blythe Day School. I had no trouble keeping up. Cat’s girls—Heidi and Pippa—treated me like an aunt, and I’d been around their entire lives. I loved them like my own daughters, and I made a point of dropping them off at school at least once a month. I hoped Cat would still let me be a part of the girls’ lives now that I was no longer a part of Erik’s.
    Heidi was six and in first grade, while Pippa had just started her last year of Montessori preschool. The girls were smart and wonderful, and the gossip that came out of their schools was usually pretty amusing. I listened intently as Cat talked about marital trouble and cheating and whose job was in jeopardy. It was a welcome distraction from the rest of my week, and I suddenly wondered if I could avoid telling my friends anything about my now-defunct relationship all night.
    By the time we had walked the few short blocks from the parking lot to the restaurant, we were twenty minutes late and I’d heard all about Melissa Engle’s hysterectomy. Lily and Anders were waiting for us at the bar, already halfway through a bottle of red.
    “This is mine, girlies,” Lily said, gesturing to the wine. “I had a hell of a day, so I’m going to need the rest of this for moi .” She stood up and squished me into a hug, even though we’d seen each other at the office a few hours earlier. Her suit coat was off, revealing a slim silk blouse that covered her curves like it had been made for her. I could feel my own breasts pushing against the buttons of my shirt, threatening to burst under the pressure of my newfound heaving bosom. I was very comfortable calling my rack a bosom, because it felt huge. My yoga-induced inability to exercise had continued to take its toll, and I’d been self-medicating with food after the breakup that week. The spread had moved from my hips to my thighs to my belly, and was now waging a battle with my bras, too.
    Anders Sorenson, who was perched on the bar stool next to Lil, rolled his eyes and swiped Lily’s empty wine glass. When Anders hailed the bartender, she rushed over like a dutiful minion and took the glass from his hand. Men and women both tended to respond quickly to Anders. His neat, dark hair and square jaw made him look a lot like a young Pierce Brosnan. Dapper and charming and always honest, Anders was the gay best friend every girl needed—except he