How to Get Over Your Ex in Ninety Days Page 7

  Daniel Montgomery II was the kind of man who had intimidation woven into the very fabric of his being. He was taller than his six-foot-two son and always wore a dark suit and power ties. Even though his suit was looking a little loose now, his perfectly in-place gray slate hair and chiseled jawline said I dare you to cross me.

  I was always up for a challenge. While his son and I were dating, I had always done my best to be polite even when he was undeserving of it. Well, I had mostly tried to avoid him. It was apparent from our first meeting he didn’t like me. Jackson and I had been washing his truck in Jackson’s driveway last October right after we were an “official” couple. It was a warm summerlike day, so I wore cutoffs and bathing suit top. I was soaked from Jackson spraying me with the hose and I had just dumped a bucket of soap-filled water on Jackson. He had barely taken me in his arms to kiss me when his dad pulled up. He took one look at me and disgust filled his features.

  Miranda, his Southern Belle daughter-in-law, would never have behaved in such a way. She would have hired someone to wash the car. And she was always impeccably dressed. Sometimes I wondered now if that’s what Jackson liked about me. I was the first woman he had dated that didn’t fit the mold he was expected to fill. Maybe he knew all along that eventually he would do what was expected of him. I was only a brief dalliance. The thought sickened me. It also gave me a boost of courage when Daniel Montgomery II stopped to speak to me.

  “Ms. Benson, can I have a word with you?”

  I planted myself firmly in front of him and looked up to catch his cold brown eyes. “Sure, Daniel, what can I do for you?” Oh, that felt good. I had always wanted to call him Daniel. I knew he would hate it, and my apparent sarcasm.

  He flexed his fingers and pressed his lips together. I could see the diatribe in his eyes he wanted to spew at me. I dared him with my own to do so. I didn’t have to pretend around him anymore.

  He pulled it together. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “Don’t give my mother any ideas or encouragement of you reconciling with my son. You’re doing the right thing staying away from him. He was meant for another kind of life. Not one you have any part of.”

  His callous words felt like a punch to my gut, but I refused, with all that was in me, to let him know how deep they hurt. “I count myself lucky that you will have no part of my life. I only hope when you’re done making your son into who you want him to be that he’s truly happy.”

  “Young lady, I don’t know who you think you are—”

  I stepped closer and stood as tall as I could. “I’m the woman who loved Jackson with all my heart and supported him in what he wanted to do and be. His happiness was my happiness. Too bad you can’t say the same. Have a good evening, Daniel.” I walked off and headed straight for Miss Liliana, who had taken in the scene from her front door. Her eyes shined with admiration. I shook as I walked toward her. Not only had I lambasted her son, but in that moment I acutely felt how much I still loved her grandson. How sorry I felt for him. I didn’t want to feel any of those things, most of all love.

  It hurt too much.

  Day Twenty

  Sunday, August 15

  “We are totally doing it wrong.”

  I looked up from my laptop and lesson plan to see Capri fixated on her own laptop. “What are you doing wrong?”

  She turned her laptop around for me to see on her kitchen table. “Post coital snuggling should last for at least seven minutes.”

  I pushed her laptop back toward her. “TMI, Capri. TMI.”

  She smiled. “We only snuggle for like five before he drifts off to sleep.”

  “Again, I don’t need to know about your sex life. And who came up with the name coital?”

  She laughed. “I don’t know, but I’m telling David he needs to give me at least two more minutes.”

  “Don’t believe everything you read online.”

  “Hey, it helped you. What day are we on now?”

  “I’m not sure how much that ninety-day article is helping. It’s day twenty and I’m not sure I’m any closer to getting over him the healthy way, or any way for that matter.”

  “You’re not curled up in the fetal position, so I would say you’re right on track. In seventy days, he will be a distant memory.”

  “Fat chance, since we work together.”

  “Hmmm.” She pursed her lips. “Maybe you should go against the article’s advice and do the whole rebound thing. Just be upfront with the guy that you don’t want anything serious and you’re getting over a relationship.”

  “Yeah, that sounds enticing. ‘Hey, could we just make out and have completely superficial conversations for the next seventy days until I get over the love of my life?’”

  She giggled. “Sounds like fun to me. I think Brad might be a willing victim.”

  “Uh, no. No more coworkers.”

  “Fine. I’ll think of someone. How about my cousin, Beau?”

  “The guy that can eat fifty hot dogs in ten minutes? I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t need to be picky.”

  “If I’m going to have a superficial relationship, I’m going to be very picky, like Chace Crawford picky. Is he single by the way?” I winked, like I actually had a shot at the famous actor.

  She went back to perusing her online articles, looking for more ways to tell David how they could improve their already terrific marriage. “Don’t you worry; I’m going to find you someone.”

  David came strolling in and kissed Capri on the cheek before giving me a smile. “How’s it going, Presley?”

  “Who do we know that’s hot and single that Presley could have an un-meaningful relationship with?” Capri asked David.

  He narrowed his eyes through his Harry Potter style glasses. He had the hipster look right down to his plaid shirt and skinny jeans. I would never tell him skinny jeans didn’t belong on men. Mr. Montgomery felt the same way. And jeans looked so good on him.

  “This sounds like something I don’t want to be involved in.”

  “Yes, I would run fast if I were you.” I smiled.

  “Don’t go yet.” Capri grabbed his hand to stop him. “You need to read this article about post coital cuddling.”

  His face turned blazing red.

  I did my best to stifle my laugh, but I failed miserably.

  He didn’t say a word. He disappeared.

  “I’ll email it to you,” Capri called after her mortified husband. “I love messing with him.” She grinned at me wickedly.

  “You’re evil.”

  She wagged her eyebrows. “I know, darling. Come over to the dark side.”

  “Maybe you can cast an evil spell on Mr. Montgomery, or one on me to help me forget about him.”

  She reached across the table and took my hand. “Aww, honey. You’re doing better than you think you are.” She suddenly sat up straighter, with that aha look on her face again. “But I know something we can do that will make you feel even better.”

  “No more chocolate, I’m over that remedy for now. And by the way, it doesn’t live up to its hype.”

  “This is much better, and you may even burn some calories. Follow me.”

  ~*~

  Dear Mr. Bingley,

  I did a wicked thing tonight. Something I haven’t done in a long time. Something I probably shouldn’t have done, but it felt good, at least in the moment. We rolled Jackson’s house. I know how immature it was, but I can’t tell you the satisfaction it gave me to look at the trees and bushes in front of his townhouse covered in toilet paper. With every roll we tossed and wound, I felt this release of tension. I’m sure he’ll think some students did it out of their love for him, but in my heart, I’ll know the truth.

  But did you know his townhouse is for sale? I didn’t, either. I suppose with his big raise and at his father’s insistence, he’ll be buying a house fit for a Montgomery. I’m sure it won’t be the cute fixer upper in downtown Riverton near his nana’s. The one with the trellis with
ivy crawling up it. I daydreamed about us living there as husband and wife. No. I’m sure he’ll buy a brand-new home with no character.

  Do you think he misses me at all?

  Don’t answer that,

  Presley

  Day Twenty-One

  Monday, August 16

  I felt a little guilty the next morning when I woke up and looked at the couple of packages of toilet paper left over from the night before. But I had to say that didn’t last long when I got to school and a harried Mr. Montgomery made it out to the car line right before I was ready to head to my classroom.

  “You have some toilet paper stuck to your shoe.” I pointed out to him. It was hard to keep my smile inside.

  He swore under his breath and reached down to extract the white stuff.

  “Bad morning?”

  He looked up, stunned. I’m sure he was surprised I was speaking to him. I was, too, but I was only doing it for nefarious reasons.

  “You could say that. Some kids toilet papered my house. Can you believe that? And I have a showing at my house this morning.”

  “You’re moving?”

  His brows gathered in. “Yeah.” He paused “I figured it was time.”

  “Bigger and better things for you all around.” I walked away feeling tossed and used.

  Sixty-nine more days. May God have mercy on my soul, or at least my heart. As Capri would say, I was a holy mess.

  Day Twenty-Five

  Friday, August 20

  It had been a rough week. After Monday, I had to stop acknowledging Mr. Montgomery existed, even if it meant being rude. I didn’t respond to his good mornings or when he held the door for me. Nothing, nada, zilch. I wanted to call in sick to work, but I was too responsible for that. I had to trudge on. Sixty-five more days. Just over two months. I could do this. Right? Please tell me I can do this.

  I didn’t wear an Auburn t-shirt for casual Friday. Tonight was our first football game, so I supported our cowboys and wore a Riverton jersey. Not the one Mr. Montgomery gave me. I had given all his stuff back to Miss Liliana, even though it displeased her.

  I took to talking to Brad during car line duty so I didn’t have to speak to the VP.

  “Are you going to the game tonight?” Brad closed a car door.

  “Yep. Wouldn’t miss it.”

  Brad was dressed up for game day. All the players and coaches wore shirts and ties.

  “You look nice, by the way.” I figured I could compliment him . . . in front of Mr. Montgomery.

  Mr. Montgomery raised his eyebrow. I ignored him.

  “Thanks. I’m nervous about tonight.”

  “Don’t be. Our boys will do great.”

  “Make sure to tell Leo to watch out for number sixteen on the Eagle’s team,” Mr. Montgomery inserted himself into our conversation.

  “I’ve watched the films and we’ve discussed our strategy. We’re ready for them.” Brad got territorial.

  “Great.”

  I detected the yearning in Mr. Montgomery’s voice. I wondered how often he caught practice, even though he wasn’t coaching. Then I told myself not to wonder, because it was none of my business. He was none of my business.

  “I’ll see you tonight.” Mr. Montgomery opened the school door for me again.

  I smirked, or was that sneered?

  Brad followed me chuckling. “Remind me not to get on your bad side. Your looks are lethal.”

  “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  “Your smile is even more deadly.”

  I grinned. “Save your lines for someone else.”

  “You can’t blame me for trying.”

  “I’m on a strict no teacher diet.”

  He laughed. “Let me know if you ever want to cheat.”

  I looked him over—and he was pretty delectable—but no way was I going down that road again, even if it was only superficial. “Have a good day, and good luck tonight.”

  “Thanks.” We parted ways.

  I had to say, I was a little flattered that Brad flirted with me. It helped my mind remember that there were other men out there, and maybe I could be with one, or heck, even a dozen different ones. Not at the same time, of course, but it gave me some hope.

  My day went pretty much as planned from there until my third block. Mr. Montgomery decided to drop in for a surprise evaluation. I seethed underneath. Why didn’t he let Ms. Dickson, the other vice principal, do it? The injustice of it all. That sounded dramatic, right? I was a drama teacher after all.

  “Ms. Benson, relax and pretend like I’m not here.”

  If only I could. I had been trying to for twenty-five long days. I nodded, so as to not be completely disrespectful in front of my students. “Okay, guys, let’s get in a circle and stay standing.”

  This was a mostly freshman class, so they were still eager to promptly obey. My twenty students gathered and formed a circle.

  “One of the most important things you need to learn about being on stage is to develop an awareness of those that share the stage with you. I know we all like it to be about us.” I got a few snickers. “But no matter if your role is large or small, you’re part of a cast. A cast must always work together as a team. The object of this game is to count to twenty.”

  Twenty weird stares erupted, all directed toward me.

  “I know it sounds simple, but you can’t communicate verbally, and if more than one person says a number at the same time, you have to start over.”

  Their faces still said this was going to be a piece of cake. I let them believe it would be. I smiled confidently at them. “Go.”

  I loved watching them trying to communicate with their eyes. Finally, two brave souls said “one” at the same time.

  “Ah, see, it isn’t that easy. Let’s try again.”

  This time they watched more carefully for body clues and they made it to nine. After four tries, they made it all the way. I loved the look of triumph they each displayed. Even more, when they congratulated each other.

  “Now turn around and face the outside of the circle.”

  “What?” they collectively cried.

  “I have every confidence that you can do this.”

  They all reluctantly turned around.

  Mr. Montgomery joined my side. I hated to say I was still drawn to him. My hand wanted to reach out and take his. My lips wanted to touch his skin. I sidestepped away from him, causing him to frown and move closer.

  “How can I pretend you’re not here if you invade my space?” I did my best to say that through gritted teeth, all while pretending to be a model employee. I’m not sure how well I pulled it off, if I did at all.

  He stepped even closer.

  Two could play his game. “Mr. Montgomery would like to play.” I clapped my hands. “Hannah, Elle, please make room for him in between you.” They were on the side farthest from me.

  He raised his eyebrow at me and smirked before taking his place in the circle.

  I wanted to smack that smirk off his face. I had known, though, he would join in. He was a hands-on teacher. Something I used to deeply admire in him. He could make history come to life, whether it was building replicas of the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria, or dressing up as Napoléon, he was fantastic.

  Why couldn’t he be a loser ex? Probably because I avoided dating losers when possible. But they were so much easier to get over.

  “Are you ready?”

  My students murmured their agreement. I think they were worried how this would all turn out. Mr. Montgomery shouted, “Yes.”

  I didn’t need his enthusiasm.

  He also started them off, giving courage to my students to voice the next number. In fact, several of them did and they had to start over.

  “That’s okay, we got this,” Jackson assured them.

  I watched the way my students responded to him. Their confidence levels rose in their faces and postures.

  How was I expected to get over a guy like that in ninety days? By
remembering he dumped me, and quite rudely, I might add. Did I really want a man who would put his career before me? No. But deep down, I knew Jackson wasn’t that kind of man. His father was.

  I didn’t know how he did it, but he started off and they made it to twenty on their second try, which is unheard of facing away from each other. They bounced almost flawlessly from number to number as if it was coordinated. I was about to call the cheater on it, but something more interesting came walking into my room.

  Mr. Crandall and what I could only describe as a beautiful man came strolling in. Mr. Crandall was all smiles. His companion had square shoulders, thick ash brown tapered-cut hair, and a perfectly tanned and strikingly symmetrical face that was looking at me with interest.

  And to my surprise, I found myself throwing my attention his way. For one second, I forgot that I had an ex-boyfriend, and that said ex was in my room. That one second felt glorious. It was a start, I suppose.

  Mr. Crandall and his associate in tight blue jeans approached.

  “Presley, dear, I’m sorry to interrupt your class, but I wanted you to meet someone. This is my nephew, Kaine Larsen. I told you about him. He’s going to help us construct our set this year.”

  Kaine held out his masculine, calloused hand.

  I gladly took it, hoping for another second of no Mr. Montgomery related thoughts. I didn’t get my wish, since the living, breathing version appeared next to me. Darn him. I ignored him for the moment and greeted the handsome stranger. “I’m Presley, nice to meet you. Your uncle failed to mention how attractive you were.” What? What? Why did I say that?

  Mr. Crandall and Kaine both grinned. My eyes flew to Mr. Montgomery. I hated that they did, but I had to see his reaction. His eyes were wide, and I noticed that he broke out in red blotches like he did when he was upset. That had rarely happened in all the time I had known him. His reaction, though confusing, gave me courage to own it. That’s right, I had said it. I quickly checked for a ring on Kaine. Phew. At least he didn’t appear to be married. I kind of wanted to die inside.

  A few girls giggled at my boldness.