Page 20 of Meet Cute Reboot
“No, it’s down as in we have no idea what killed it.”
I look at Korg like he might know why the website crashed, but he’s blissfully unaware. He shakes his body, sending hair floating on subtle air currents, and then he wags his tail for treat time. Smart boy. Treat time always comes after a good run. I gesture toward the house, and he takes off running.
“Cassie and I have the radio segment tomorrow afternoon,” I say as I head up my driveway. “How bad’s it going to look if the website’s down?”
“Bad.”
“We need to get this fixed.”
“Drew and a few others are meeting at Cassie’s office to sort things out.”
“Now?”
“I’m headed that way,” Todd says. “Don’t worry, we’ll get the site back up asap.”
I pause. This could be my opportunity. I could tell her about my monetary investment in her company.
I turn in a full circle, my eyes focused on the branches above, clear my throat and say, “I’m coming.”
“Uh...” Todd says on the other end of the line. “I thought you wanted to be a silent investor.”
“I changed my mind.”
As I walk up the flight of stairs to Cassie’s office, I question my life choices. If I hadn’t had that drunken make-out session with my ex, Rose, no covert operations to win Cassie back wouldhave been necessary. We could have continued along our happy trajectory. Probably would have been married by now.
Instead, I’m a sad puppy with his tail between his legs, returning to the one I spurned and begging for forgiveness.
Yes, cheating on the woman you love seems like an asinine thing to do. It was. Itis. There’s no excuse for it. I’m what some women might call, a pig. Or I was. I like to think I’ve morphed into a Highland cow. What woman doesn’t love all that fluff?
After my first date with Cassie, I decided my cheating days were over. And they were until Rose came to my house with a box of Franzia Cabernet Sauvignon. She claimed the wine was for her because she was nursing a bad breakup and just needed a shoulder to cry on, metaphorically.
I should have suspected something was amiss by her outfit: a tube top and a pair of those expensive workout leggings that cinch up the back, leaving nothing to the imagination. But she wore that kind of thing when we were dating, so I guess I gave it a pass.
The evening started with her on the loveseat and me on the couch. Her drinking a couple glasses of wine while I watched. It was innocent. Until—
I don’t mean to be mean, but if you’ve ever listened to a woman rehash a failed relationship—I mean every single detail—it can be a little mind-numbing. By the time she reached the start of year two, I was begging for a little entertainment in the form of fermented grapes.
I remember when she slid over onto my couch, rested her head on my shoulder (no more metaphors), and then pulled down her top. Curse those tube tops. I think I downed a full glass of wine at that point. Big mistake because next thing I knew, we were making out. Thank goodness, when things got too heavy, I had the presence of mind to kick her out of my apartment and tossher empty box of wine after her. But the damage was already done.
To make matters worse, while I was at work the following week, still sulking about my indiscretion, unsure about whether to tell Cassie about it, Jani cornered me in the break room at work. Back then, I rented a small office space for my promotions company. I had several employees including my receptionist, Jani.
Keep in mind, even though I had vowed to remain faithful to Cassie, I still wasn’t above “harmless” flirting. Jani and I harmlessly flirted every day, sending each other the occasional suggestive instant message, joking with each other at her desk after lunch, commenting when one or the other looked especially attractive.
I was in the break room making a cup of coffee. Jani came in. She commented that I hadn’t seemed like myself for several days. She kept pressing and fishing. In hindsight, I realize she hoped Cassie and I had broken up. Instead, she learned (because I finally gave in), that I made out with my ex. She put her hand on my back, did a little “there there” kind of rub. Said, “Oh no, what are you going to do?” like she really cared (she didn’t), and then next thing I know, she tried to kiss me. I intercepted her lips with my hand, fired her, and walked out of the break room.
That evening, Cassie and I were about to have dinner at her place when Jani texted:I understand why you had to fire me after we almost kissed. Things would have gotten too complicated. Now that you’re not my boss, I can say this: I’m up for anything. I meananything.
I was outside preparing steaks on the grill when the message popped up on my phone. Cassie read it, and that was the beginning of the end. I came clean on both counts. No surprise, Cassie dumped me.
Now I’m headed back into Cassie’s life, a little slice of it at least, once again intent on explaining away my behavior in hopes that she’ll forgive me. Mom was right. I should have just invited Cassie to coffee.
When I enter the office, I’m taken aback by how well Cassie has done for herself. Her office space is modern mixed with rustic, all glass and brick and streamlined furniture. Cassie is propped on a desk talking to Todd and Bethany. Drew is in one of the glass-partitioned conference rooms hunched over his laptop.
When Cassie sees me, her shocked expression quickly hardens into one of confused annoyance. I shrug guiltily and then walk over to the group.
Todd turns. He’s wearing Nike shorts with a blue tank top and a pair of Jordan Lows. His blond hair is oily and swiped off his forehead like he left a sweaty basketball game to dart to Cassie’s office.
“Oh. Hey Luke.” Todd quickly goes into introductions. “Luke, this is Cassie. Cassie, Luke.”