How to Get Over Your Ex in Ninety Days Read online

  I did appreciate that most of the women who had been ogling Brad kept to the women’s code and averted their eyes. It was a common courtesy. If a woman falls in front of another woman, you are supposed to pretend like you didn’t see anything and go about your merry way. I could understand, though, why they were sticking around. Given an up-close view, Brad was pretty dreamy. He had unusual light green eyes that drew you in.

  I didn’t get a really good chance to stare into them because more awkwardness ensued when both men kept a hold of my hands and each tried to pull me in a different direction. Breaking my teacher’s contract was sounding more and more enticing. I pulled both of my hands away. Each man stared at the other. I looked between the two and felt oddly like I had entered some sort of competition.

  “Excuse me.” I started to limp away.

  “Presley, let me take you to the nurse.”

  I didn’t bother looking back at Mr. Montgomery. He had no right to be nice to me. I shook my head and kept on walking.

  Brad came after me and landed by my side. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I might transfer to another school.”

  He chuckled. It was quite manly. “I hope not.”

  Was he flirting? Because that was the last thing I needed. I was doing my best not to wince as I walked to my classroom. The stairs were going to be fun.

  Brad was in no hurry to leave my side. “Looks like we have morning car line duty together.”

  I looked up into his smiling eyes. “I hadn’t checked the schedule yet. But I figured I would have the honor. I’m still a low woman on the totem pole.”

  “I guess that makes me the low man. It’s not a bad spot.” His teeth sparkled.

  “Just wait until the rain is coming down in sheets.”

  “I lived in Houston for five years before here, so I’m used to it.”

  “In that case, you may enjoy the weather here.”

  He laughed. “I take it you don’t?”

  I shrugged. “It has its moments.” Why did my mind flash to Jackson and me dancing in the rain? I knew why, but it was annoying and counterproductive. We made it to the stairs. “I’m going down.”

  “I guess this is where we part. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

  “Maybe next time I won’t run into you.”

  “I enjoyed that part the most.” He walked off grinning.

  I rolled my eyes and hobbled down the stairs. No coworkers or men for me, thank you very much.

  Dear Mr. Bingley,

  I survived one of my most embarrassing moments today—no need to rehash it here—as well as the open house. The open house reminded me of why I was staying. I loved seeing my returning students and my new babies, as I like to think of them. It was a good thing this next event happened after my open house euphoria, or I would be headed back to the mile high city as I write.

  I will give you this, Mr. Bingley, at least you had the decency to stay away from Jane once you broke her heart. I know you came back to proclaim your love and propose. I know that’s not going to happen in this situation. And if it ever did, believe me, I would not, I repeat, I would not be as easily entreated as Jane. Why she said yes to you right away, I will never know. You didn’t deserve it.

  Just like Mr. Montgomery has no right to continue to try and engage me in conversation. Which brings me to my story. Like I said, the open house was terrific. I enjoyed seeing my students and talking to their parents. I felt confident about the plans and goals that I’ve set for the year. The kids seemed excited, especially those that will be involved in the one act competition.

  I made it all the way to the end of the evening without even a glance of the heartbreaker. That all changed when I was getting ready to leave. I had grabbed my bag and was heading for my classroom door when two men appeared. The two men involved in the day’s previous embarrassment. Two beautiful looking men staring at each other and sizing the other one up. Each man gave the other one a nod of greeting, but the VP had to play his part, so he asked Brad how he was settling in and about the football team. I heard pining in his voice and it pricked my heart. All more reasons to hate him.

  I took that as my opportunity to escape. I excused myself and walked between the two men, out the door. It didn’t have the desired effect. First, Brad—glorious body Brad—asked me if I wanted to join him and some other of our colleagues for a late dinner. He had no idea how much that pained me. As you know because I wrote to you about this, the previous assistant football coach, my ex, asked the exact same thing last year after the open house. Do you remember how excited I was and how I gushed to you about him? I wrote down every detail, like how our legs touched under the table and how he opened all my doors. I declared him the one before I barely knew him. That was not going to happen this year. I politely declined the invitation and walked away. I didn’t rush in case of another mishap where my butt met the ground. I’m still sore from the morning embarrassment.

  I congratulated myself on my getaway and slight of Mr. Montgomery. So maybe I gave him an evil smile while Brad extended his invitation. I could tell by the way he rubbed his neck back and forth it bothered him that Brad was paying attention to me. And if Brad wasn’t a coworker, and the ninety-day plan didn’t discourage rebounds, I may have done something I would have regretted and accepted the invite. Instead, I did the smart thing and walked away, or at least I tried.

  Apparently, Mr. Montgomery can’t take a hint. He came calling after me, and he had the audacity to call me PB again. I ignored him. It wasn’t until he said Ms. Benson that I stopped. His formal address pierced me almost more than the use of my nickname. It sounded cold coming out of his mouth. The same mouth that whispered a hundred times that he loved me. The mouth that could kiss me for hours on end. The one that spoke beautiful words of encouragement.

  I had reached the stairs and held onto the rail for support while he caught up. I stood there, breathing deeply, begging myself not to cry. He paused and didn’t say a word for a moment. We must have looked odd standing there with my back to him. Finally, Jackson’s voice appeared. “Would you please look at me?”

  It took everything I had to turn around and look at him. Oh, Mr. Bingley, Brad is probably better looking than Jackson, but there’s something about Jackson that draws me in and doesn’t want to let go. I’m trying. I really am.

  I locked eyes with him and glared. He gave out a long, slow sigh. “Can we at least be friends?”

  My eyes began to sting, but I refused to let him get the better of me. “No, Mr. Montgomery. And I would appreciate it if you would limit our conversations to school matters only.”

  He stepped closer. “Presley.”

  “Ms. Benson, if you don’t mind.”

  He pinched his lips together. “As you wish, Ms. Benson.”

  How dare he use the line from Princess Bride, our movie! Sorry, Mr. Bingley, that it isn’t Pride and Prejudice. Jackson was more of Westley than a Darcy or you. Other than the fact you are both cowards.

  Eighty-one more days.

  Goodnight,

  Presley

  Day Ten

  Thursday, August 5

  Dear Mr. Bingley,

  Wish me luck today.

  Sincerely,

  Presley

  I woke up with that first day anticipation. In fact, I’d hardly slept. I was filled with excitement and unease. Something struck me in the middle of the night about the way Jackson said, “As you wish.” I didn’t recognize it in the moment because of how upset I was with him, but playing it over in my head made me realize he had put some meaning behind it. But did it really matter? The answer was a big fat no. I was ten days in—double digits, baby! He was going to be a distant memory in no time.

  I was such a great liar.

  I dressed with care, including a nice pair of flats. No need to tempt fate today. My butt already had a nice bruise on it. It went well with the bruised ego. At least it gave Capri a good laugh. Capri, who needed to step up h
er game. She was supposed to be my offensive lineman and shield me from the defense. She was failing miserably.

  The streets were alive with first day of school traffic. The sleepy days of summer were over. I was sad to see them go, along with what seemed like my own little piece of heaven. Eighty more days, right? Before I felt really depressed about my obliterated relationship, my phone rang and I answered it through my car.

  “Hello, Miss Liliana.”

  “Darling, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

  This woman was going to kill me. “I miss you, too.”

  “We need to change that. Come have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I told Jackson I got you in the divorce.”

  “Miss Liliana, we were never married.”

  “Well, you should have been.”

  I wanted to bang my head against my steering wheel and wail like a child. “I love you, but I need to distance myself. I’m sorry.”

  “Young lady, I don’t accept. We’re family. I promise my imbecile grandson won’t be here. I expect you at six tomorrow night.” She hung up.

  Feisty old woman. I adored her, and knowing that she loved me and thought of me as family meant the world to me, but it caused pain. My mom always said you should never count your chickens before they hatch, and I realized now I had raised a whole chicken farm in my head when it came to my future with the aforementioned imbecile grandson. Eighty days and all I would be having was fried chicken. That sounded a little more morbid than I meant it.

  I pulled into the school parking lot early. I had to be there before the kids started to arrive to make sure their parents were following the rules and flow of the car line. I didn’t mind the duty. For the most part, it was nice to see the kids in the morning and wish them a good day. Especially those first few days when the new freshman had those terrified, unsure looks. It was amazing to me last year how during the course of the first week those faces became more confident, at least for most. Some it took a lot longer. A few of those now sophomores still have those looks today; high school could be daunting.

  I ran in the school to drop off my satchel and get my room ready. It was the one downside of car line duty, not being able to greet my homeroom students when they walked in first thing. But I set out a welcome sign with a basket full of apples I had brought. Maybe it was a little cheesy, but I thought it was a nice touch.

  I ran into Capri in the hall. “Aren’t you looking fetching this morning. Is that for the VP or Brad?”

  “Shhh.” I looked down at my tiffany blue dress. “Neither. Men suck.”

  She laughed. “Some don’t.”

  “Fine, David doesn’t.”

  She smiled at her husband’s name. “Try not to fall again.”

  “I’ll do my best. But seriously, you need to do a better job today of keeping you know who away from me. If not, I may cut you from my team.”

  “I know too many of your secrets,” she reminded me with an evil grin.

  “Hey, what happens in Maui stays in Maui. All I’m going to say is, Kai.” Kai was a male hula dancer we met on an amazing spring break trip we took our senior year of college. We saved for three years to take it. Best money ever spent.

  She blushed. “Fine, brat, your secrets are safe with me.”

  “Let’s go to Hawaii again.” I sighed. Maybe I should have given Damon my number, but we promised ourselves what we shared in Hawaii would stay there. Meeting a guy on vacation rarely worked out, but man could that guy kiss. My mom always said you had to live real life with them. That’s how you would know if you could build a life together. I thought I had done that with Jackson. Too bad I hadn’t known he was only messing around.

  “I’m married now,” Capri said, like I needed the reminder.

  “That’s okay. You can help me spot gorgeous, unattached men.”

  She smirked and pointed down the hall at Brad.

  I grabbed her finger. “Not happening.”

  Brad noticed us and walked our way. Capri laughed. I would have smacked her, but professionalism overruled.

  “You ready to head out?” Brad asked me. He was dressed in a polo shirt that barely contained his biceps. I wasn’t into guys that had biceps almost the size of their heads.

  Capri nudged me forward.

  “Yep.” I glared at Capri. She was crazy if she thought I would even consider the jock in front of us. He was gorgeous, but he wasn’t . . . he wasn’t . . . It didn’t matter. I was getting over the wasn’t. At least, I was trying.

  Brad and I walked down the hall together in awkward silence at first. I felt like I had forgotten how to interact with the opposite sex. My brain was still switching gears, trying to imagine my life without Jackson. I’m not even sure if I realized how firmly I had set my heart and mind on being with Jackson forever. I had thought he felt the same way. I forced myself to smile up at my coworker.

  He returned the gesture. “You look nice today. Is it okay if I say that?”

  “I think that is well outside of what is considered sexual harassment. And thank you. You look nice, too.”

  “A woman who knows how to return a compliment. I like it.”

  I wrung my hands together and looked straight ahead. Uncomfortable was a good word for how I felt. And I hated Mr. Montgomery for those feelings. We were over. His choice, not mine, but regardless, it happened. I wondered when my old self would appear, the pre-Mr. Montgomery version. Maybe the problem was I liked the Jackson version. Loving him made me a better person. I guess I needed to discover the post-Jackson me.

  Brad opened the door for me and the August heat hit us. I threw on my shades and hoped my hair survived the steam bath. My mom had already texted me about the brisk morning they were having in Colorado. I was missing home more and more. I took my place at the beginning of the line near the flag pole and Brad dutifully took his place several feet away.

  Cars began to line up and students began to file out. I greeted each student, helped open and shut car doors, waved to nervous parents and tried to give them a reassuring smile that their babies would survive their first day of high school. The car line was mostly filled with freshman and sophomores who were dependent on their parents for transportation. It was all going well and good until he walked out in his suit and tie looking how I had pictured my future.

  The new VP high-fived a girl and boy I had just opened a car door for. “Good morning, Ms. Benson.”

  I gave him a half smile in return, only because of that whole professionalism thing. I did my best to ignore him, but he made that difficult by standing next to me and following me to each vehicle. I liked that he tried to greet and high-five each student, but he could just as easily do that in the north parking lot. The south was my territory.

  Then our hands touched as we both went for the same minivan door to open. I froze and his gaze lingered on me. His warm brown eyes made me want to kick him. He wasn’t supposed to look at me like that. And his touch should have felt cold and unwelcome instead of like I had come home. I shook it off and walked to the cars between him and Brad. We didn’t need to be doubled up.

  I noticed Brad looked inquisitively between Mr. Montgomery and me. Meanwhile, Mr. Montgomery’s eyes tightened out of frustration. I could read him well. But why was he frustrated? This was his own doing. I didn’t know what delusions he had about what would exist between us when he obliterated our relationship, but he was living in a fantasy world if he thought we could go back to being friendly coworkers. I would behave professionally, but that was all he could expect.

  The walk back into the school was more awkward. Why did I suddenly feel like I was always in between these two men? Both reached for the door, and neither seemed to want to let the other open it. So, they each opened one of the double doors for me. I looked between the two men, who stared hard at one another. Were they puffing out their chests? Neither option was good for me. The deciding factor came when Mr.
Montgomery said, “Presley.” His tone had some underlying pleading to it, so I walked through Brad’s door. But I hated the smirk Brad gave Mr. Montgomery. I wanted to feel some self-gratification, but it wouldn’t come. It actually made me not like Brad, because Mr. Montgomery would have never reacted that way.

  And what did Mr. Montgomery do? “Have a great first day, Brad. Let me know if you need anything.”

  He was a gentleman and I hated him for it.

  “Presley.” Brad caught up to me.

  I paused. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”

  “Of course. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  I tilted my head. “For what?”

  “I heard that you and the vice principal used to date and he broke up with you over Facebook. What a jerk.”

  I stood for a second. That was the rumor going around? I walked off. “That’s not what happened.”

  Brad followed. “Oh. Well, he’s still an idiot for letting you go.”

  “How would you know? For all you know, I’m crazy or I cheated on him.”

  “Is that true?” He sounded worried now.

  I was crazy all right. I stopped and narrowed my eyes. “This is not a conversation I usually have with acquaintances.”

  His olive colored skin turned a nice shade of red. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He walked toward his classroom without another word.

  Capri rushed over to me.

  “You’re fired.” I walked past her.

  Happy first day of school.

  Day Eleven

  Friday, August 6

  Dear Mr. Bingley,

  Please don’t make me go back to school. I’m not one for wallowing in my misery. I’ve been trying to rise above the circumstances, but do you know how hard it is to know that everyone is talking behind your back? I’ve tried my best to ignore the stares and fake politeness. The worst part is that he’s coming off as Prince Charming, at least with the women, like he’s gotten a pass somehow. Everyone is wondering what’s wrong with me, well almost everyone.