The Ex Files: A Novel - Softcover

Moore, Jane

 
9780767916028: The Ex Files: A Novel
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0767916026 ISBN 13: 9780767916028
Verlag: Broadway Books, 2004

Inhaltsangabe

The guest list for Faye's and Mark's wedding could become a problem as Faye copes with her yearning for one last fling; her ex Nat, a narcissistic fashion model, and his Playboy bunny girlfriend; Kate, Mark's vengeful ex; and Adam, Faye's flamboyant sidekick, as Faye faces a serious decision about love, personal dreams, and Mark. By the author of Fourplay. Original.

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Aus dem Klappentext

After five years spent maneuvering for Mr. Right, beautiful, feisty Faye Parker has finally snared a sensitive cutie named Mark. So when he pops the question, Faye is fully prepared to step out of the dating rat-race, call the caterer, and don the veil.

Just as soon as she has one last teensy-weensy little fling.

Then comes the dicey issue of the guest list. First there s Nat, Faye s ex a narcissistic fashion model hell-bent on flaunting his substantial charms in Faye s face, his latest Playboy bunny in tow. Next there s Kate, Mark s ex a woman so indignant she s not the bride that she s liable to slit Faye s zipper. And, of course, there s Adam, Faye s flamboyant sidekick, milking the chaos for all it s worth while shamelessly ogling Nat s abs. As the rehearsal dinner lurches toward the brink of a spin-the-bottle-fueled imbroglio, Faye must face the fact that marriage means more than a flawlessly executed reception. She s got a serious decision to make about Mark, about love, and about her own deepest desires.

Wickedly funny, The Ex Files is a sexy, sophisticated caper that offers a brazenly edgy take on the complexities of the modern bride.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Saturday, June 22

11:55 p.m.



He booted open the bedroom door with his bare foot, then removed her slip-dress in one swift motion as she raised her arms. Now wearing nothing more than a G-string, Faye yielded as he pushed her against the wall and continued the kissing session that had started on the living-room sofa just five minutes earlier.

While she fumbled with his shirt buttons, he saved time by undoing his belt and fly, then kicked off his trousers, which fell in a crumpled heap on the floor. Maneuvering her towards the bed, he pushed her backwards so that she plunged into the duck-down duvet. The movement jolted the bedside table, and a framed photograph of a middle-aged woman crashed to the floor. Standing over her, he stared into her eyes, a crooked smile on his lips, then slowly pulled off the G-string. He dangled it on the end of his finger, then tossed it aside.

Damn, he's sexy, she thought, as he lowered himself towards her, never taking his gaze from hers. She fully expected him to be a "Monopoly" lover, a term she and her friends had coined for men who selfishly moved straight to "Go," so her breath caught as he started to slow-kiss his way down her body from just beneath her breasts.

Unlike the inept performances of the stamp lickers she and her friends also complained about, this one knew exactly what he was doing.

She closed her eyes to savor the sensation, then snapped them open again. Initially she'd wanted nothing more than to have sex with this man, but the reality of knowing that it was about to happen suddenly brought her to her senses. What on earth was she doing?

It had been easy, as flirtation always was. A couple of meaningful stares across a crowded cattle market--or do they call them wine bars?--followed by a couple of slow lip-lickings. Within minutes of her friend Susie's departure to catch the last train, he was at Faye's side.

"May I buy you a drink?" He smiled.

"I already have one, thanks." She held up the remnants of a glass of white wine.

"In that case, as we're being pedantic, may I buy you another?"

Normally, having established a man's interest, Faye would have brushed him off and headed home, but tonight she had found herself nodding. "OK."

She encountered gorgeous men all the time in her job as a model, but there was something mesmerizing about this one. He had dark hair, blue eyes, and a well-toned body, but he also had an X factor that intrigued her. Flecks of gray were starting to appear just above his ears, but it suited him. He was confident and, judging by his Gucci shirt and Ralph Lauren loafers, not short of a bob or two.

"Are you drinking alone?" she said, craning to see if anyone was behind him.

"Yep. Just fancied a quick one." He waved his beer in front of her. "But it turned into several."

"Are you from around here?" She couldn't believe she was asking such humdrum questions, but his confidence and maturity unnerved her.

"No." He didn't elaborate. "You?"

"Just round the corner." She felt her neck flush as she said it.

For the next half-hour, they were engrossed in conversation, never taking their eyes off each other until Faye felt a hand on her shoulder. It was the bar manager, gesturing behind him where chairs were being stacked on the tables.

"I'll walk you home," he said, in a tone that suggested he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Thanks." Curiously, she felt protected rather than threatened.

During the short walk, she had vowed she would say goodbye on the doorstep, but when they arrived at her front door she felt compelled to spend more time with him.

"Coffee?" she had asked. "And, no, that's not a euphemism."

"Damn." He clicked his fingers in mock frustration. "But can I have wine instead?"

The bottle of Chablis they shared had been her undoing.

Now she was studying him as, hair flopping into his face, he concentrated on the task in hand. She still felt attracted to him, but her desire for him had been outweighed by pangs of guilt about her uncharacteristic sluttishness. Yes, he was gorgeous, sexy, funny, and interesting, but he was also a complete stranger and she just didn't do that sort of thing.

"Look, if you don't mind, I'd rather we didn't go all the way," she said. She put her hands on his shoulders and eased him away.

A fleeting look of surprise crossed his face before he fell beside her, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. She grabbed a corner of the duvet and draped it over her naked body. Then she reached into her handbag and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Lights. The small chrome clock on the bedside table read 12:10 a.m.

Propping herself up on one elbow, she glanced at him lying next to her, then he suddenly caught her eye. Embarrassed, she blew smoke towards his face, then giggled to show it was a joke.

"Your bedroom habits could do with a little work." He frowned.

"Look, I don't mean to be rude, and I'm really sorry, but this doesn't seem like such a good idea after all, and I have to be up horribly early. So if you don't mind, I'll call you a cab," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. A small twitch started in his cheek, and his blue eyes turned darker as his pupils expanded. After a few moments, his expression softened and he stroked the side of her face gently. "Why don't I stay a little longer?" he murmured.

Faye was tempted to let him, but she felt deflated and angry with herself for allowing a wine-bar flirtation to develop so far. Now that the effect of the wine had worn off, she realized she knew nothing about this man. He could be a psychotic killer, yet she'd brought him back to her flat without anyone else knowing. How reckless, she thought. How desperate. How unbelievably stupid.

Her mind went into overdrive. She had no plans for Sunday, so her mutilated body might not be found until late next week when maybe her best friend, Adam, or her mother would have made several calls and be wondering where she was. Or perhaps the woman downstairs would eventually notice the smell.

She took another drag of her cigarette and tried to calm herself. Psychotic killers didn't go to wine bars for a casual drink . . . did they?

She gave a cavernous yawn, fatigue creeping up on her, and ground out the cigarette. "As I said, I'd really rather you left." She looked apologetic.

Flopping onto his back, he lay there motionless. For a moment, she thought he was going to be difficult. She couldn't believe it: so many of her female friends had whined that men couldn't wait to leave straight after a sexual encounter, yet this one wanted to stay. It testified to the "treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen" philosophy, but Faye didn't want him keen. She just wanted him out.

He sat up suddenly and swung his tanned, muscular legs out of bed. "Well, at least make me some coffee first. I'll get dressed and follow you down." He picked up his white cotton boxer shorts that were partially tucked inside a leg of his trousers.

Faye was relieved that now an end was in sight to this cheap little episode. "OK." She smiled. "I'll get the cab to come in about ten minutes." She grabbed her white cotton robe from the end of the bed and headed out of the door.

Downstairs, she crashed about opening cupboards and throwing coffee into a mug bearing the words "caffeine queen." Then she rang her local cab firm and asked them to send a car immediately.

"Where to?" asked the dispatcher.

"Um, no idea," said Faye....

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Verlag
Broadway Books
Erscheinungsdatum
2004
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0767916026
ISBN 13 
9780767916028
Einband
Taschenbuch
Auflage
1
Anzahl der Seiten
324
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Nicht verfügbar

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