A Year to Remember by Shelly Bell Read Free Book Online Page B

wanted to act like Carrie from Sex & the City and throw my drink in his face. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself and at this point, I really needed a drink.
    Instead, I forcefully grabbed his chin and raised it.
    “Stop staring at my chest. It’s degrading and improper, and I deserve better. This is not going to work out Jacob. I wish you the best.”
    In order to make a clean getaway, I resisted the urge to down my glass of merlot and stormed off. Rushing to my car, I failed to notice the patch of ice on the walkway. Before I could stop, I landed flat on my back to the sound of my skirt ripping.
    Honestly, I didn’t think things could get any worse, until a looming figure appeared over me, laughing.
    “Need some help, Sara?” asked Goldman, reaching his hand out to help me up.
    Of course, Goldman had to be present to witness another one of my most humiliating moments.
    Still, I could use some assistance, even if it came from someone who would hold this over me until the day I died.
    “If I say yes, would you promise to keep this to yourself?”
    He pretended to consider my proposal, rubbing his fingers on his chin like a nefarious villain. At least I hoped he was pretending.
    “Deal.” He crouched next to me, taking my hand and placing his arm under my back.
    One moment I lay on my back, and the next, Goldman had me on my feet with his arm still around me and my hand in his. I quickly yanked myself out of his grasp, embarrassed I required support from my brother’s best friend.
    “Thanks,” I mumbled, a blush no doubt staining my cheeks as proof of my mortification.
    “Anytime,” he teased with a twinkle in his eye. “What were you doing here anyway?”
    “I had a date with someone from JDate,” I reluctantly divulged.
    “I take it from your voice it didn’t go too well?”
    “You could say that. I spent five minutes trying to have a conversation with the guy, and he spent most of it staring at my chest.”
    Goldman erupted in hysterics. “Ah, I see you met the lucky leprechaun.”
    “In the flesh. I understand why they call him a leprechaun, but why do they call him lucky?”
    “Other than the fact he’s the spitting image of the Lucky Charms’ mascot? He’s one of the creepiest guys out there, and he still manages to get girls to date him.”
    “You mean women like me that meet him for a first date only to run in horror?”
    “No, I mean he usually leaves with them. The guy gets laid more than anyone else around.”
    As hard as I tried, I just couldn’t conjure the image of a girl desperate enough to sleep with the little creep. On second thought, why did I even want to conjure that image?
    “I’ve never met a bigger pig in my life and that’s saying a lot, considering the type of friends my brother has.”
    The smile rapidly left Goldman’s face. I cursed myself for momentarily forgetting he and my brother have been best friends for more than fifteen years.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you.” Actually, before the last week, I would have exactly meant Goldman. He’d started to grow on me and for the first time, I could see what my brother must see in him.
    “Yes, you did, and you’re right. I use women as playthings. I don’t call them after I sleep with them, and I have no intention of ever mending my wicked ways.”
    I don’t know why that shocked and disappointed me, but it did. I guess I assumed from his emails he might be a good guy underneath the image he projected to the world. Apparently, I was mistaken. Lord knows, it wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.
    You would think a psychologist with seven years of college and almost five years of practical experience would understand the male psyche just a little better than I did. I better plan on sticking with teenage girls as clients, because obviously, I was hopeless when it came to understanding men.
    “Is that what you’re doing here? Trolling for your next plaything?” I