THAT MAN 5 (The Wedding Story-Part 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

restaurant, in hope of seeing Blake fly in.
    It was now going on nine p.m. I was worried. Worried sick. Where was Blake? I called his cell phone every five minutes, but each time it went to his voicemail. I texted him. No response. I called his office and our home phone. No answer. I called Mrs. Cho and then his best friend Jaime, but they hadn’t heard from him either and had no clue where he was. Mrs. Cho, however, did mention he’d left the office early for a meeting. What meeting? He hadn’t mentioned one to me, and unfortunately, Mrs. Cho didn’t know the details. Strange.
    The server came by again to take my order. “I’m still waiting for someone,” I told him glumly. With an irritated shrug, he marched off, leaving me alone. I tried all of Blake’s numbers one more time, but still no Blake. A sudden chill ran through me. My heart hammered. Maybe something had happened to him. Like he’d gotten into a bad car accident. Or mugged. Maybe, I should call the police and all the local hospitals. Oh, God, please, please, please no! And then another equally horrible thought hit me with the force of an avalanche. His secret meeting. Blake always kept Mrs. Cho abreast of his whereabouts. My blood ran cold. Was he seeing someone else? Someone new he met while I was in Boise? All my insecurities and trust issues flooded my brain, and nausea rushed to my chest.
    My cell phone pinged. An e-mail. From Blake? I glanced down at the screen. It was from the last person I wanted to hear from. Kat. She was probably just e-mailing me to confirm my fitting appointment tomorrow. With reluctance, I opened it. The body of the message was all of two words: Please review.
    There were several attachments. All jpegs. Bridesmaid dresses? Seating arrangements? The latest tropical fish that would be swimming in the Bernsteins’ salt-water pool?
    While I was in no mood for wedding detail, I opened the attachments, one at a time. My heart fell to my stomach. And all air left my lungs. The phone shook in my trembling hands.
    “Oh my God,” I heard myself say as I viewed one photo after another of Blake and Kat bared to each other and entwined in a familiar bed. The satin-sheeted one in his fuck pad at Greystone Manor—where he’d fucked me for the first time the night of the Conquest Broadcasting Christmas party. The photos ranged from heated embraces to Kat sucking his cock. And so much more. By the fifth photo, I’d had enough. Scorching tears poured down my face. Oh my God. How could I be so blind? In so much denial? Reality hit me like a crashing meteor. Blake was still into her.
    The server came by again. “Have you decided what you want to order? The kitchen will be closing down soon.”
    I looked up at him with my tear-flooded eyes. “I-I’m sorry. I won’t be staying for dinner.” My voice was a mere rasp. Barely a whisper.
    The server regarded me with compassion. I guess he’d seen a lot of girls stood up in his time. But none as crestfallen as me.
    “No problem, madame.”
    Madame. The French word for “Mrs.” Mrs. Blake Burns was not in my stars.
    “Thank you for understanding.” I dug through my bag and found my wallet. I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. The hundred-dollar bill Blake had given me when I’d stripped for him in that seedy motel; I’d kept it as emergency money. This was an emergency of the worst kind. I plunked it down on the table.
    “I’ll be right back with your change,” the sweet waiter said.
    “No need,” I stammered. While my glass of wine came to only twelve dollars, the hardworking server deserved the money for his time, patience, and compassion.
    “Are you sure?” His eyes lit up with surprise.
    “Yes, please.” I rose from my seat, my knees so weak I thought I’d fall down. The kindly waiter pulled out my chair and helped me up.
    “Merci, madame. I hope you have a lovely evening.”
    That wasn’t happening.
    *
    I don’t know how I made it back to Blake’s condo. Tears blurred