Just One of the Guys. Kristan Higgins

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      CATCH OF THE DAY

      FOOLS RUSH IN

      To Terence Keenan—Husband. Father. Firefighter. In that order.

      Acknowledgements

      As ever, I am grateful to Maria Carvainis, my kind and brilliant agent;

      To Tracy Farrell and Keyren Gerlach for their enthusiasm and support of this book;

      To fellow writer Rose Morris, my dear friend and perfect reader;

      and to Beth Emery, head coach of women’s crew at Wesleyan University, who patiently answered my questions about rowing.

      And, most especially, thanks to Terence Keenan, my dear husband, who advised, laughed and cooked while I wrote this book, and to my two wonderful kids. You three are the loves of my life.

      Chapter One

      “I THINK WE SHOULD STOP SEEING each other.”

      My jaw drops. I inhale sharply, and the stuffed mushroom I just popped in my mouth is sucked right into my esophagus. Jason continues, unaware of my distress. “It’s run its course, don’t you think? I mean, it’s not like we’ve…”

      Seems like my little old air passage is completely plugged. My eyes are tearing, my chest convulses—Before you break up with me, Jason, would you mind a little Heimlich? I slam my hand down on the table, rattling the china and cutlery, but Jason assumes that my distress is heartbreak and not oxygen deprivation. He looks away.

      I’m being killed by my appetizer. I knew I shouldn’t have ordered it, but Emo makes the little number drenched in butter, with little bits of garlic and parsley and…um…Must breathe now. Save food review for later. The pressure in my neck is building. I make a fist, wedge it just below my sternum, and slam myself into the table. The mushroom shoots out, hits a water glass and comes to a rest on the white tablecloth. I suck in an enormous breath, then begin coughing.

      Jason eyes the mushroom with distaste, and without thinking, I grab it, stuff it in a napkin and take another beautiful gulp of air. Breathing. It’s so underrated.

      “I was choking, you idiot,” I manage to wheeze.

      “Oh. Sorry about that. Well, good thing you’re okay.”

      It’s hard for me to believe that I was even dating Jason to begin with, let alone the fact that he’s dumping me. Dumping me! I should be dumping him!

      I glance at the wadded-up napkin containing the instrument of my near death. The poor busboy who has to deal with that. Should I warn him? Otherwise, he’ll shake it out, innocent, unaware, and the unchewed mushroom will fly across the kitchen, sliding on the floor, maybe getting squashed under a shoe…

      Focus, Chastity, focus. You’re being dumped. At least find out why. “So, Jason, that’s fine. I mean, clearly it wasn’t love at first sight. But other than that, do you mind telling me…well, why?”

      Jason, whom I have been seeing for about three weeks, takes an impervious sip of wine and stares over my head. “Do we have to dissect this, Chastity?”

      “Well, um…think of it as my desire to gain information. I am a journalist, remember.” I try a friendly smile, but I’m not feeling so chummy right now. Or ever, now that I think of it. At least, not toward Jason.

      “Do you really want to know?”

      “Yes, actually, I do.” I pause, feeling a flush prickle its way up my chest. Our brief relationship has been tepid at best, but I thought the malaise was emanating from me. More than anything, this is a matter of wounded pride. Jason and I have been on four dates now. He lives in Albany, and it’s a bit of a hassle to make the drive, and sometimes neither of us is feeling that inspired. Still, I didn’t see this coming.

      Jason’s tongue is searching for something near a back molar. His mouth contorts as his cheek bulges. I find myself hoping СКАЧАТЬ