Just My Luck
they don’t care enough to try. Or I don’t feel like I can ask them to do what I need. Even Marshall. Especially Marshall.”
    Ally sighed and nodded. “I guess when you look like Devon does—or you have as much money as Marshall did—you’re used to being the sought-after one. To the woman putting in the effort, having it be all about you.”
    “But that wasn’t the worst of it,” she went on, determined to tell Kristen, to be honest with herself about what had really hurt. “It was how he was afterwards. Like, OK, we’re done. He didn’t say I had to leave, but it was pretty clear that he didn’t want me waking up with him. I said, well, I’d better get home. And he popped right up and said, ‘Let me call you a taxi.’ Romantic, huh? Couldn’t even be bothered to drive me home.”
    “You know what they call that,” Kristen said. “Get in, get off, get out. Except he was making you get out, which is even worse.”
    “So what was the point of taking me out? If he didn’t want any more than that?”
    “That he could,” Kristen explained. “Guys like that, they think the first time’s the best. Because they got you. Because they won. And then they get to throw you away, and that’s even more of a win.”
    “But the first time—it’s not even that great!” Ally protested. “Like I said!”
    “Bet it was for him, though,” Kristen said. “I’ll bet he had an orgasm. And that’ll be all he cared about.”
     
    So that was her love life, crashing and burning. And her big career move had been just about that successful too.
    Oh, she’d worked hard enough on the Heat event. But Mac hadn’t ever acknowledged her part in making it happen. The fact that so much of it had been her idea in the first place, not to mention everything she had contributed to make it a success. And when she’d suggested holding a women’s climbing clinic to build on the publicity they’d be receiving, bring more women into the gym, Mac had brushed her off.
    With all that, Ally’s normal cheerful spirits were dampened over the next few days. Her suspicion had been correct. Devon hadn’t called her again. Well, she didn’t want him to, did she? It wasn’t him she was regretting anyway. It was having to face the fact that she’d been a fool. That everyone had been right. Kristen, whom she’d always, she had to admit, felt a bit superior to. And, worst of all, Nate. Whatever the true story was between the two of them, she suspected she hadn’t heard it yet. Because, she realized, Nate had never told her. Devon had been quick enough to trash Nate to her. But other than letting her know that he didn’t like the other man, Nate had never reciprocated.
    Eventually, though, she got tired of beating herself up.
    “I’ve decided to let this go,” she told Kristen briskly on Friday night when she got home from work. Another late closing, and she had to open the next morning at eight. Well, good thing she didn’t have a hot date, then. She’d get plenty of sleep. Wow, she was really clutching at straws here.
    But right now, it wasn’t too bad. She’d plopped down on the couch beside Kristen to watch the end of The Proposal and help her friend finish off a big bowl of air-popped popcorn.
    “Let what go?” Kristen asked absently. “Oh, this is the part where he comes back. I love this.”
    Ally smiled. Kristen was such a romantic, still secretly hoping, Ally knew, that there was a Prince Charming out there for her somewhere, despite all the frogs she’d kissed.
    Ally waited patiently until the movie was over and Kristen had sat back with a sigh of satisfaction, then said again, “I’ve decided to let this go.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry.” Kristen turned to her. So cute in her striped leggings and T-shirt, Ally thought fondly. “I forgot you were telling me something. What?”
    “This thing with Devon,” Ally explained. “I mean, what did I do? I slept with the wrong guy. How many wrong guys do most single women

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