Page 103 of The Breakup Artists

“I didn’t,” he says. “But hey, I’m here with you, so I guess it’s all fair.” Then he attempts a charming smile and lets his eyes drift down to my bikini strap.

Eyes on your menu, dickface.

And lucky for me, Amber’s five-minute estimate was spot on.

“So, what’d I miss?” Amber asks, sliding into the seat next to me.

The whole lunch conversation is weirdly hard to read. Amber and Justin clearly get along. They have the same sense of humor and the same self-obsessed stupidity, but after some banter we keep hitting awkward ruts in the conversation where it looks like one or the both of them wish they weren’t here. Like right now.

Justin pushes his chair back and drops his cloth napkin on the table. “Bathroom,” he says like it’s a decree and walks off.

When he’s out of earshot, I turn to Amber. “Sorry, I guess this was a bad idea.”

She spears a bite of her salad. “You mean lunch?”

I sip my mocha. “I mean inviting Justin to join us.”

“Oh,” she says, a little surprised.

“Not trying to pry, but it seems like you guys are a little uncomfortable,” I say, most assuredly trying to pry.

She laughs. “Definitely not uncomfortable. He’s just not civilized enough to make adult conversation for more than fifteen minutes.”

I smile. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Positive,” she says, but since I’ve already done the work of getting us here, I’m going to make absolutely certain. So I reach into my purse and find the pay-as-you-go cell, discreetly punching in my own phone number.

It only takes a second before my real phone, sitting on the table next to my drink, starts ringing. I snatch it up, telling Amber I’ll be back, and leave my purse on the table, where my extra phone will be able to hear whatever Amber and Justin talk about.

I make my way off the restaurant patio and step onto the sidewalk, well out of earshot, just as Justin returns to the table. I press mute on my phone and then record, pretending to say hello to my imaginary caller, and keeping my back to the table so they have no reason to think I’m observing.

“You headed to Derek’s later?” Amber asks.

“Yeah, definitely,” Justin replies. “If I didn’t, he’d probably hunt me down and drag me there caveman-style. You?”

“Maybe,” Amber says, and I can hear her shrug. “I’m always up for some Derek sparring. Or maybe just outshining my look-alike he insists on toting around like a handbag?”

Justin laughs. “Now that’s funny.”

“For you maybe. For Derek it’s just embarrassing.”

I pace on the sidewalk, wondering if I should press end and return to the table. Maybe I was wrong about the flirting.

Then their conversation lulls.

“Anyway, it’s nice... having lunch together, I mean,” Amber tells him, but his reply sounds a bit like a humph or a grunt.

“Awesome response,” Amber says after a beat.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. Anything,” Amber says, and her casual tone wavers.

“Just trying to eat my lunch, Amber.”

“Then stop making things awkward,” she says. “Mia’s noticing.”

“So let Mia notice,” he replies dismissively.