Manhattan Dreaming Read Online Free PDF Page B

probably not even awake.’ And I felt a pang of heartache, knowing that he was probably not in bed alone.
    â€˜I know you, Loz, you’ll spend the entire day moping about sad and miserable. It’s time to move on. You know it is.’
    â€˜Yes, I know.’
    â€˜Call him. I’m here with you for support.’
    I took a deep breath, grabbed my phone and shook as I hit ‘Adam’. I imagined bringing my eggs Benedict up right at the table.
    â€˜There’s no answer. It’s gone to his voicemail.’
    â€˜Hang up. Don’t leave a message. Text the bastard instead. Men do it all the time. Say something like … It’s over, Chubby Neck, you bastard .’
    I wasn’t sure if Libby was being serious or not.
    â€˜I’m not sending a text. It’s not my style and it shouldn’t be anyone else’s either. I’m not a man, and I’m not that bad mannered. I’ll wait until he gets back and tell him to his face.’
    â€˜That’s dangerous, tidda, breaking up face to face when you’re both still attracted to each other. Lust can be a real break-up killer, trust me, I know.’
    I just looked at Libby without responding.
    â€˜I’m going to pay the bill,’ she said. ‘I’ll meet you out the front.’ I could tell she wasn’t impressed with my idea of telling Adam to his face. She didn’t believe I would do it. And she had every right to be angry. She’d let me cry on her shoulder for over a year. She’d come over to my place the nights he hadn’t shown up. She’d seen him treat me badly again and again, and she’d seen me put up with it. But she didn’t realise that this time I was determined to be strong. I was going to break free once and for all – and keep my clothes on while doing it.

    It was already dark at 5.30 when Adam answered the door in his jocks. Central heating in Canberra meant you couldn’t tell how severely cold it was outside most days. He smiled when he saw me.
    â€˜Babycakes, this is a surprise.’
    â€˜Don’t call me babycakes,’ I said angrily, trying to look past him. ‘Are you alone?’
    â€˜Yes, come.’ He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me into the house, slamming the door behind me and pushing me up against it.
    â€˜Get off me.’ I pushed him away.
    â€˜What’s wrong?’ he asked, surprised by my reaction.
    I threw the paper at him. ‘Well?’
    â€˜Well what?’ He looked at the paper and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’ve already told you – don’t believe everything you read in the paper, babycakes.’
    â€˜So you weren’t caught half-naked on the beach in Surfers with these three … I won’t say ladies , because clearly they are not.’
    â€˜It’s not what you think.’ He smiled as he looked at the photo and I wanted to slap him. I was furious.
    â€˜Oh, you don’t want to know what I think.’
    â€˜By your tone, I’m pretty sure I don’t either.’
    I took the deepest breath I could and lunged into my prepared speech:
    â€˜I am gorgeous and vibrant and witty and sexy. Every woman at my work wishes she had my legs and my hair. And that’s just the straight ones. And apparently the men just wish they could touch either .’
    â€˜And I know why,’ Adam said, reaching for my thigh.
    I pushed him away. ‘I’ve got a masters from the College of Fine Arts in Sydney and you didn’t even finish your degree. My CV shows I can mix it with the best in the Australian art world and I’m only thirty. I’m the only Indigenous Senior Curator in the country, and I’ve got the best golf swing on any woman you’re ever going to know! I’m the only woman I know who can shop in Target and accessorise to look like a million bucks. I am amazing, and you’re a fucking idiot for not realising