To My Immature Ex Boyfriend by J. S. Cooper



Prologue





To My Immature Ex-Boyfriend,

There are so many things that I want to say to you, but because I’m a lady, I will keep my ’big mouth’ closed. I received your email the other day and you’ve got to be joking if you think I have any interest in meeting up with you during your visit to San Francisco. I would rather take a long walk off a short pier into an ocean of sharks. Also, the fact that you wouldn’t mind seeing my bedroom for ’old time’s sake’ makes me laugh. I don’t want to be rude but those memories aren’t ones I wish to repeat. I have better uses for five minutes of my time. You can keep the poems I wrote you, my cheerleader’s outfit, and the promise ring that you gave me. The only promise I want from you is the one that says I will never hear from your obnoxious, arrogant, weirdly-shaped head again.



Sincerely,

Birdie



P.S. No, we’re never going to repeat the night you won the homecoming football game. I have a secret to tell you. I didn’t care about football then and I still don’t.



To My Mouthy Ex-Girlfriend,

Birdie, I’m guessing that you still have repressed feelings for my big head. I don’t blame you. If I’d gotten to be with a hunk like me, I wouldn’t have gotten over it, either. I’ll be in San Francisco for a week. I bet you can fit me in for three hours and twenty minutes. That was our record, remember? Please don’t go into the ocean with any sharks. I’d hate to have to rescue you in the water again … Oh, wait … that was just an excuse to show off in a wet t-shirt, wasn’t it? I’m looking forward to seeing you. Maybe I’ll treat you to a Forty-Niners game. You know I can get VIP tickets to any game.

We both know you’ll be there. I’d hate to have to let your momma in on some of your secrets.



Your sexy ex,

Hunter Augustus Beauregard III



P.S. There are many things I’d love to repeat. I’ll call you tomorrow to tell you the first one. :)





Chapter 1





Birdie



“Birdie, darling, I’m so happy to hear your voice. Mawmaw wants to know if you’ll be home for her anniversary.” My mother’s deceptively sweet voice told me everything I needed to know. If I weren’t back home in Bluffton, South Carolina, by March 23rd, I would be disowned.

“You can tell Mawmaw that it depends on my boss. If he’ll let—”

“Birdie, I don’t need to tell you that family always comes first for a Vanderbilt.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady.”

“I’m not rolling my eyes,” I lied. How could she see my facial expressions even over the phone? My mom was a psychic witch. Not that I’d ever tell her that, even as a joke. She’d have my head off. She was already pissed that I’d moved to California after college. She and the rest of my family considered California to be the devil’s state, where nothing good could ever happen. She was waiting for it to break off from the continent and sink into the ocean. “It just depends on work.” And how well I think I can deal with my entire family for an extended period of time. “You know how much my job means to me, Mom.”

“Well, bless your heart, Birdie. I expect you’ll figure something out.”

“Yes, Mom.” I sighed. Every good Southern girl knows what it means when your momma says, ’bless your heart’. “I have to get going now, though. I’m actually getting ready for work right now.”

“Before you go, Birdie, I have a favor to ask you.”

“What favor?”

“I spoke to Abilene two days ago and—”

“Nope, Mom. Whatever it is, nope.”

“Birdie Vanderbilt.” There it was again. That disapproving tone. The phone was silent for a few moments before she continued in her sugary-sweet tone. “I spoke to Abilene Beauregard, and she said that Hunter Augustus is going to be flying to San Francisco next week.”

“Okay, and?” I didn’t care how cold my voice sounded. I wanted nothing to do with the Beauregards ever again. Especially Hunter. I could still picture his smug face, and I still wanted to smack the dopey grin on it into the next galaxy.

“Well, she was hoping that you could show Hunter—”

“Never going to happen, Mother, not in a million years.”