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"  Miss you. The text came while I was sleeping. When I read it at 7 a.m. the next morning, my stomach clenched.  What are you doing tonight? I wrote back. I&amp;#039;d had enough time to &amp;quot;marinate&amp;quot; the news, as my mom likes to say, and I was definitely in a better place to talk to Peter.  We arranged to meet for dinner later that night. Then I rolled out of bed, got dressed, and went for a run to clear my head.  By the time Peter got to the restaurant, I was already at the bar, pretend-texting because I am incapable of sitting still. He sat down in the stool next to mine, swiveled to face me, and smiled. &amp;quot;Hi.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Hi,&amp;quot; I said, smiling back.  &amp;quot;This place has great lasagna,&amp;quot; he said, and winked.  &amp;quot;I could use some freaking carbs,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;Okay, so I have a whole little thing prepared for you.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Shoot.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;First, congratulations on this opportunity. It sounds really exciting for you.&amp;quot; Peter bobbed his head and smiled modestly. &amp;quot;I obviously would never want to hold you back, but I just can&amp;#039;t shake this icky feeling I have about the whole thing.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I know, but you really don&amp;#039;t&amp;quot;\u2014  I put my hand over his. &amp;quot;Just let me finish. I think it has to do to the fact that you weren&amp;#039;t honest about where you really were last weekend. Having to find out about it on Facebook made me feel like an idiot. Like the stupid girlfriend who&amp;#039;s at home and has no idea where her boyfriend really is.&amp;quot;  Peter nodded.  &amp;quot;Also, you have to understand that it&amp;#039;s confusing to me that up until this opportunity presented itself, you hated your ex.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Well, I don&amp;#039;t hate anyone.&amp;quot;  I gave him A Look.  &amp;quot;Maybe a little,&amp;quot; Peter admitted.  &amp;quot;So how long have you had to come around to the idea of having to be cordial with her? At least a few weeks, right? Well, you gave me five minutes.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;But now you&amp;#039;ve had a few days.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Yeah, and now it doesn&amp;#039;t seem so bad, but I still have some questions.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Like?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I guess I just need to hear from you how this works. Are you planning on excluding me from couple-y events that have to do with work? Because if so, that&amp;#039;s a problem.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Not at all,&amp;quot; Peter said. &amp;quot;Actually, Bill\u2014that&amp;#039;s Elizabeth&amp;#039;s dad\u2014is very involved with the Leukemia and Lymphoma foundation. He&amp;#039;s run a bunch of marathons for them, and he asked me to attend an event for it with some possible investors. I want you to come too.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Will Elizabeth be there?&amp;quot; Obviously the first thing I think of. The second is what I would wear and how it has to be better than whatever she will wear.  Peter shrugged. &amp;quot;I don&amp;#039;t know. Probably not though.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Well then, I&amp;#039;m there in my Rent the Runway dress.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;What if she is there?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Then I will rent the even more expensive Rent the Runway dress so I look hotter than she does.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Babe,&amp;quot; Peter pulled my stool in his direction and wrapped his arms around my waist. &amp;quot;There&amp;#039;s no competition.&amp;quot;  Except there is always competition. That&amp;#039;s how women work. So basically, I need to rent the sickest but still charity-event-appropriate dress I can find. I feel a million times better that Peter does not feel the need to hide me, though I am curious to know how well received I&amp;#039;ll be by his ex father-in-law.  In the meantime, any advice before I enter the WASP&amp;#039;s nest? "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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