The Cinderella Project (A Comedy of Love, #1) (26 page)

I’d almost forgotten about him.
The lie was comforting. She thoroughly despised Clint Christopherson. She could have forgiven him if he’d merely been a dolt like Daryl. The way Clint had pulled out her heart with a surgeon’s care, so much that she was blinded to its absence, was another thing altogether. It wasn’t until her breakup with her first serious boyfriend—and she didn’t shed one tear over it—did she realize just how much Clint affected her. Granted, that made it easier to be dumped by boyfriends two and three, back in college. Maybe she should be grateful? No. Clint was scum. He deserved a long, slow death after a life of celibacy. At least she had finally woken up to the fact that she could be her own woman.

Still, she took a long, last look at that markered face before gently closing the yearbook and filing it back in its box. After a moment’s thought, however, she fished it back out, and set it on her desk; it would be fun to look through it tonight
just for the memories.

This has nothing to do with Clint
, she told herself.

What
had
happened to him, anyway? A moment of hesitation, and then she turned to her computer. No sin in a little curious searching, now, was there? Ten minutes was all she needed to find out that he was still single and still in the Bay Area. Would he even remember her? Would she
want
him to remember her? No, no. He was a liar; he didn’t deserve her. He’d missed his chance back when she was young and stupid. His loss. She was a big girl now. A big girl with big girl responsibilities.

She closed the web browser and looked out her window at the street below. Of all those people down there, surely someone needed her services. A case would come her way sooner or later, she was sure. It had to. Otherwise, Mom and Dad would, once again, be right. Lindsay could afford no more Mrs. Ashworths: Lindsay would take whatever case she could get.

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