Dirty Beautiful Rich Part Five by Eva Devon Page A

against the brick walled building. “But he didn’t quite live up to your knight in shining armor fantasy?”
                  “Excuse me?”
                  “That’s the problem isn’t it? ” Fion said gently. “He didn’t live up to the dream? He proved mortal flesh?”
                  “He slept with me then jumped on the first plane to Asia, ” she countered quickly. She didn’t like it at all the way he was making her less of a victim. God, was that what she wanted? To be the victim in all this?
                  “That’s what happened, ” she added.
                  “Classic man pain, ” he lilted.
                  “Yeah well, it gave me pain too.”
                  Fion swallowed his champagne then poured himself another glass. “Why are you in this alley with me, love?”
                  She plunked her chin on her fist and rested an elbow on her knee. “I’m not entirely sure. You seem like good company.”
               Fion gave one shake of his head. “You’re here to get over the man you love.”
                  She scowled then swallowed the rest of her drink and held out her glass. “Those are bold words.”
                  He winked and poured. “True ones. Anyone who looks at you can see it.”
                  She let out an exasperated sigh. “Apparently, because you’re the third person to say so.”
                  “There you are then.”
                  “But. . . But he abandoned me, ” she protested.
                  “So, what. He’s got issues. Show me one person that doesn’t.”
                  Julie scowled, barely able to believe what Fion was saying. It was shocking her slightly drunken brain. “Excuse me?”
                  “Has he been abusive to you?”
                  She thought about that. “He kind of stalked me by following me tonight.”
                  “So, that’s a problem, I grant you. Does he make a habit of that kind of behavior?”
                  She frowned. “No. Actually, he urges me to be independent.”
                  “Has he isolated you from your friends?”
               “No.”
                  “Called you names?”
                  “No.”
                  “Hurt you aside from his epic slide into male stupidity?”
                  “No.”
                  “Right then. Don’t give him the shaft.”
                  “But. . .”
                  “Demand he get some therapy, ” Fion declared. “You know, embrace the modern world and let all that Neanderthal nonsense go. The man probably just needs a hug.”
               “Fion, you’re an odd duck.”
                  “Don’t I know it? But you know, my da was a man’s man. A footballer to the core. He never shed a tear in my presence. Never let on he was in pain and when I grew up I looked at him and thought, No, that’s not for me. I want to be happy . I saw a therapist, did yoga, and had a good cry in front of him. You know what happened?”
                  She shook her head.
                  “The old man, hugged me, told me how much he loved me, then had a good cry himself. Now, mind you, fifteen minutes later, he was down at the pub drinking pints, and slapping his mates ’ backs to re-establish his manliness. But sometimes, a fellow like that just needs someone to let them know it’s okay to take a break from being a rock.”
                  She gaped. Fion made more sense than anyone she’d talked to in a long time. “His family keeps warning me he can never love me.”
                  “Are you willing to surrender his and