Seeing You

by Michelle Lynn

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Amelia

  The following Sunday, my body fights me the entire time I crawl out of bed. Sundays are for sleeping in, not for work. It’s usually my only day I have off from both jobs, and I try to focus on my photography on those days. I call them Lazy Sundays. I usually go out to the streets of New York and take a few pictures by the water, sit at a café, or I sometimes hop on the first train and see where it takes me.

  Now, I’m on my way to CHOPs—for a bridal shower, no less. I pray her color isn’t Pepto-Bismol pink, because I might cough up my iced coffee.

  I open the front door, and as I guessed, bouquets of pink roses fill vases on each table. Little cookies line trays down the center of the table with the inscription Bride and Groom and a heart and an arrow through it. The over-fluff of love has seeped into every crevice of the restaurant. That makes me assume the groom’s probably screwing the bride’s best friend. I blame Cam for my sour outlook on love. I haven’t been able to shake him since last week.

  I roll my eyes and walk to the back room. The wait staff is changing into their assigned uniforms, and I notice Todd’s not strutting around, displaying his naked chest for everyone to gawk at.

  “Hey, Todd’s single, right?” Lucy whispers, leaning in close to me.

  I peer back to him and find he’s placing on his hat. “Yeah.” I dig into my locker for my apron.

  “I asked him if he wanted to go out for a bite to eat later.” She pauses. “He said no. I guess I thought there was some interest. He flirts with me, and I catch him looking at me.”

  My head flies to hers, and I scrunch my eyebrows while pulling out my apron and tying it around my waist.

  “Hmm . . .” Todd isn’t one to turn down a date, so although I’m confused, like Lucy, I try to act differently. “Maybe he’s just tired.”

  She stands next to me, obviously expecting more.

  “Did you want me to talk to him?” The minute I ask the question, I know this is a bad idea. I do not want to get into the middle of anything like some junior high drama.

  Her eyes light up. “Would you?”

  I focus on her hand that’s squeezing my forearm. Very bad idea.

  “Thank you!” she exclaims, squeezing my arm again. She twists around and leaves the break room.

  I release a huff and shut my locker. Todd’s on his way out with his head hanging low, and I know this is my only chance to have him alone tonight.

  Increasing my pace, I come up right behind him. “Is everything okay?”

  He stares at me for a few beats of a minute, almost as if he desperately wants to tell me something. “Yeah, I’m just really hungover.”

  I like to think I know when Todd is lying, and I’m pretty sure he’s doing exactly that right to my face.

  “Is it Jim?”

  I know Todd had a lot of stuff to finish up with the counselors before we left the hospital that night. Jim should be settled into a rehabilitation facility by now.

  Todd stops in the hallway and lets everyone pass us. “He’s denied rehab.” His hands clamp on the back of his neck. The stress he’s under is clear.

  “You can’t admit him anyway? Have you called Carol?”

  He huffs. “She’s not answering her phone. He swears he can do it with only AA because he did it years ago. I can’t control him, but I’m checking on him every night.”

  “Are you going over there tonight?”

  “I don’t have much of a choice.” He leans against the wall and stares down at his feet.

  “I’m going with you then. After you’re finished prepping for the party, I’ll make you one of my favorite concoctions.”

  I smile, and he returns a weak one.

  “We’ll get you through this.” I squeeze his arm and step away.

  He grabs my wrist, and his eyes fix to mine. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  A half hour later, I’m just finishing preparing the sangria pitchers when a blur of pink rushes into the restaurant, giggling and talking loudly. There’s a ratio of five to one with blondes to brunettes, then there’s always the signature redhead thrown in. They’re all dressed to the nines with their blouses and handbags swung over their arms. I don’t have to talk to any one of them to know we live very different lives.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Davis escaping from his office, and my stomach somersaults. I didn’t even know he was in yet.

  “Oh, Davis. This is amazing,” the head blonde gushes, squeezing him in a tight hug.

  “Anything for you, Hillary. You know that.” He hugs her back, and his eyes catch me at the bar.

  One of the other Miss Priss girls follows his vision and turns around to glare at me.

  After he’s released from Hillary’s clutches—at least, that’s what I like to think of it as—he asks, “How are the wedding plans coming?”

  “Wonderful—at least, I hope so. I’ve instructed my wedding planners—wait!” The blonde goes into a full-on panic mode. “Where are they? They should have been here an hour ago to make sure all the favors are in order and the flowers have arrived. Mom!” she yells.

  An adult version of Miss Debutant clicks over on her Manolo Blahniks.

  “Where are Tina and Ralph? I don’t see my cake—” she says, her voice escalating.

  I can’t help but let out a small laugh to her having a panic attack over a few pounds of sugar and flour. Of course, that earns me about five glares from her followers.

  “Relax, Hillary. The cake arrived this morning. It’s in the back. I’ll have someone bring it out shortly. Tina and Ralph were here but ran out really quick,” Davis says, easing the bride-to-be’s mind.

  “Good. I was going to say, they’re getting paid a lot of money, and if they—”

  “It’s all being handled, Hillary. Go enjoy your shower.” Davis places his hand on her back and motions for her to sit down.

  “This should just be a ball,” Lucy sarcastically says, grabbing two pitchers off the bar top.

  “Don’t get too close. You might catch the pink flu,” I joke.

  Lucy laughs.

  “Hey, you two, what’s all the laughter about?” Davis leans on the bar, his forearm muscles flexing.

  “Nothing,” Lucy answers before scurrying away to feed the elite.

  He glances to Lucy’s departing back and then to me. Those brown eyes sparkle to mine. “We’re still on for today?”

  Shit.

  “Um . . .”

  “Are you canceling on me?” He steps back from the bar, offended.

  “I have to go somewhere with Todd. Maybe after, like later tonight?”

  I can’t believe I forgot about my date with Davis.

  He slowly nods, thinking hard about something.

  “I’m really sorry. If it wasn’t important, I wouldn’t go.”

  I reach across the bar top for his hand, but he steps farther away.

  “Shit, I’m sorry.” I shake my head. We can’t show affection here. My head is everywhere at the moment.

  “It’s okay.” He checks his perimeter. “Call me when you finish. Hopefully, this will be short and painless.” He flings his head back, insinuating the shower.

  “I doubt it will be either,” I respond.

  He chuckles. “Probably right about that.”

  He leans over a little closer, and my heartbeat picks up.

  “Is it bad to say I hope some debacle happens, like the cake gets dropped, so my time with you comes sooner?”

  He changes pace fast.

  “Not at all. I’m looking forward to it, too.” Lame, Amelia. You can do so much better than that.

  “I hope so. I would hate to be the only one.” He smirks, backs away, and makes his way into the kitchen.

  I look up, and the same girl from earlier is giving me a look that could kill.

  The afternoon isn’t horrible since Lucy and Heather are working. Mostly, we make fun of the hysterical antics from the bride and her br
idesmaids. It reminds me of that movie Mean Girls. The bride must be the head bitch, and the ranking goes down from there. There are no pleases or thank-yous to the wait staff. Instead, there are eye rolls and huffs of annoyance.

  “What were you thinking, Amelia?” Lucy comes over, sarcastically tossing her head. “The glass has a smudge on the stem.”

  She rolls her eyes, and I reach around to grab her another one, making sure I wipe it down first.

  “Thanks. Can you ask Todd for more crab cakes?” Lucy snatches a bottle of wine and circles back to the table.

  I move down the length of the bar.

  Once I enter the hot kitchen, the tension is so intense that I automatically feel uncomfortable. “Hey, Todd,” I call out.

  Both he and Davis turn in my direction. Curt, another sous chef, glances my way, and there’s terror in his eyes.

  “What?” Todd snaps.

  “Yeah, Amelia?” Davis questions, glaring at Todd, who’s already glaring at him.

  It appears to be a standoff of chefs.

  “Lucy says they need more crab cakes,” I quietly mumble, wondering if I just interrupted some owner-employee spat.

  I’m surprised Davis is in the kitchen. Lately, he entertains instead of actually cooking.

  “I’ll get them out,” Todd coldly replies.

  He turns his attention back to cooking while Davis turns the opposite way from him. I stand there, waiting for something, but I’m not sure what. Curt nods toward the door, so I escape from the igloo confines. Who would have thought a restaurant kitchen could feel so cold?

  Grabbing a tray of bread baskets, I push through the swinging kitchen door and stop dead in my tracks. My eyes fixate on the tall figure standing next to the bride-to-be. He’s dressed in pressed khaki pants with a nice button-down tucked in. His wavy hair is gelled back, giving it that put-together yet messy look. Even his accessories suggest he just stepped out from a Ralph Lauren advertisement. Although he’s mouth-watering, he isn’t the Cam I knew. I guess I always got the working-class version, a very different Cam than these people know.

  “Thanks, Amelia.” Heather grabs the tray, awakening me from my thoughts and giving me a dose of reality that my ex is standing twenty feet away with his arm around the guest of honor.

  Crap, is that blonde, Miss Hoity-Toity, his fiancée? Was he actually engaged when he slept in my bed?

  Just as I’m about to run back into the kitchen, he turns my way. I freeze, and our eyes lock. A slow smile begins to creep across his face, and he starts to step closer. Keeping my feet grounded, as though he can’t see me, isn’t my smartest choice.

  All I hear is, “Lia,” in that deep voice from the guy who used to have me wrapped around his fingers.

  Then, the kitchen door hits me on the back, and I collapse facedown onto the floor.

  “Amelia.” This time, the voice is Davis, a new voice that has the effect of making me melt. “I’m sorry.” He places his hand on my arm and helps me up.

  Then, the tall presence comes on the other side of me. When my eyes focus back up, I notice the whole table of women are staring at me, none too pleased that I’ve interrupted their brunch.

  “Are you okay?” Davis asks.

  “I’m fine, really.” I wipe my hands on my pants and turn my back on both Cam and Davis.

  I’ve never enjoyed attention focused on me. The women happily become engrossed in either enjoying my embarrassment or someone else’s because they bellow in laughter.

  “Are you sure?” Davis comes alongside me, resting his hand on my back.

  I sidestep, getting away from the purely uncomfortable feeling I have with Cam being so close.

  “Yeah, Lia, sit down for a second,” Cam’s concerned—oh, I mean, fake concerned voice says.

  “You know Amelia?” Davis turns to Cam, disregarding that I’m right next to him. He could have clearly asked me the question.

  “Um, well—” Cam stutters.

  “I was his slumming secret,” I dramatically whisper to Davis but make sure Cam can hear me.

  Davis’s hand stiffens on my back.

  “That’s not true,” Cam argues, but I can tell by his skittish behavior that it is.

  Then, he becomes more uneasy when Head Blonde calls him over. “Cam! Cam!” She childishly whines, “Come over here.”

  He stares at me for a second before turning on his loafers, submitting to his role.

  Davis’s hand still hasn’t left my back, and I notice Heather, Leo, and Lucy staring intently at us. Once Davis sees all their prying eyes, his hand flies off my body. Not in the mood for another secret affair, I distance myself to the end of the bar, straightening the glasses. I’m not sure why, but when Davis retreats back into the kitchen, a sadness comes over me. Maybe he’s worried that he’s slumming it just like Cam.

  Everyone goes back to their responsibilities, but my eyes keep diverting to Cam, and his seem to be focused on me every time I look over. My hands are shaking so bad I can barely pour his Blue Moon. Throwing in a slice of orange for him, I hand it to Lucy. It actually surprises me that he would take a drink from me. Thoughts of spitting in it come very close to reality.

  “Cam, you never drink beer,” the blonde says.

  I’m reminded again that she loves a very different man than I did.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” Todd’s loud voice fills the whole room before his eyes search me out to find me behind the bar.

  Shit. This is about to go south fast, especially with Todd’s mood.

  I rush over and swing my arm through his, escorting him down the hall. The problem is, Todd’s about six inches taller and outweighs me by most likely thirty to forty pounds, give or take. Todd twists around and attempts to go back while Cam ignores his existence. He’s always been good at that. Once Todd and I get into the back room, Davis barges in.

  “What the hell is going on?” he demands.

  I sit on the bench with my foot tapping a mile a minute while Todd paces back and forth in front of me.

  “Davis, get that piece of shit out of this restaurant,” Todd seethes with clenched teeth and fists.

  “Cam? Why? His dad’s an investor. How do you think they got me to close the restaurant?” Davis argues back. “My hands are tied.”

  “Well, untie them, or I walk,” Todd spouts.

  I stand and rush over to him. “Relax, Todd. I can get through this,” I assure him.

  He places his hands on my shoulders. “You shouldn’t have to, Noodle. Davis, dessert is being served. Let her go home?” he requests.

  Davis nods without ever hearing the whole sordid past, not that I want him to.

  “Both of you go,” he instructs.

  Todd shakes his head. “I’ll stay,” he counters.

  “No, you both go.” Davis points to us just when the break room door opens.

  When Cam joins our little party, the three of us stare back at him.

  He raises his hands in defense mode. “Hey, I’m here in peace.” He chuckles with that cocky arrogance I used to find attractive. “Lia, talk to me,” he states without so much as a ‘please’.

  Before I have a chance to answer, Todd is in front of me, as if Cam has a gun pointed in my direction and he’s going to take the bullet for me.

  “Sorry, that’s not gonna happen,” Todd sneers.

  “Who the hell are you?” Cam takes a step closer.

  Davis rests his hand on Cam’s chest. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but you need to leave, Cam,” he says politely.

  Todd’s hand swings around, molding to my hip to keep me in place.

  “Sorry, Davis, but Lia and I have unfinished business.” He disregards Davis and breaks the distance.

  My throat constricts. The only thing that has me still breathing is Todd’s barrier.

  “You had your chance with her, and you walked.” Todd’s stance widens, covering more of my body.

  Cam shakes his head. “I’m not the one who walked.” His piercin
g blue eyes strike into mine.

  Finally, I realize I can’t be some damsel in distress who hides behind a bodyguard, so I step aside from Todd.

  “What choice did I have, Cam?” I move my feet without thinking the whole thing through.

  I poke his chest, and he steps back like the coward he is.

  “Go back out there, and be with ‘your kind’,” I throw his words back in his face.

  “Lia, you never let me explain,” he argues.

  I’m over him and our past. “Cam, you had two years. I’m done. It’s over. I don’t need some damn explanation about how I don’t fit in with your friends or any other bullshit excuse you might have. Just leave out the door, and go back to your bride.” I push past him and walk out of the room.

  I get back behind the bar. The cake, desserts, and coffee have been served. Cam rushes to the side of his fiancée while Davis escapes into the kitchen.

  My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I pull it out.

  Todd: I’m waiting outside. Do NOT talk to that jackass.

  Me: You gone?

  Todd: Davis sent me home.

  Me: I’m sorry.

  Todd: He said you could go. Come on.

  Me: No, I can stick it out. He can’t affect me anymore.

  Todd: I’ll be waiting then.

  Half an hour later, I’m released. Cam and a few other men who have arrived carry the gifts to the awaiting cars outside. Escaping to the back room, I begin to change into my jean capris and sweater. It’s a nice typical fall day, probably the last one for a while.

  The rest of the staff comes in, so I assume the bridal party is gone. Lucy tries to question me about what all happened and where Todd is, but I give only a few short answers, unable to discuss it right now. I walk out to the back hallway, following my coworkers, and I catch Davis talking to Cam. Both of them look my way, but I turn and exit out the back door.

  I leave one tension-filled room to enter a tension-filled alley. Lucy is talking with Todd, but when he spots me, he says good-bye. Her eyes follow him to me, and she watches him pull me into a tight hug. I peer over to her, and seeing the exasperation leave her lungs is like a dagger in my throat. My stomach churns as I see the disgust on her face. She’s assuming things that aren’t true, but before I can catch her, she hops in a taxi.