by Bella Grant
Diana scrunched her nose and tittered a laugh. “I bet you would.” She leaned closer and whispered, “I love ranch dressing with my wings.”
His eyes widened, and he threw his head back and laughed. He wagged his finger at her. “Girl, you are my type. You’d better be careful.”
Diana smirked at him, the alcohol she’d consumed relaxing her. Alyssa clapped her hands and exclaimed, “Look at you, flirting with a stranger!”
“Yeah, it’s not so hard when I know nothing will come of it,” Diana shrugged, grabbing her drink and downing the rest. “Wow, that was too much. Time for food!” She pulled the plate of wings closer to her and began gnawing on one.
“What do you mean, nothing will come of it?” Alyssa asked, thanking the bartender for the cups of ranch before dipping her fry in one.
“Well,” Diana mumbled around the spicy chicken. She swallowed and said, “I’m seeing Travis now, and we’re getting pretty serious pretty fast.”
“Travis?” Alyssa asked before biting into her own wing. Around the meat, she asked, “What do you mean you’re getting serious? He’s your ex. Aren’t you just having a little fun with him?”
Diana stared at her friend as she wiped her mouth and fingers with a napkin. “No, I think we’re going to try again. I mean, you know I never stopped loving him.”
“You never stopped loving him because you never tried to find someone else to love,” Alyssa pointed out. “You didn’t even try.”
“I don’t want anybody else,” Diana stated simply and truthfully.
“You don’t want that bartender?” Alyssa asked, gesturing toward the man at the end of the bar.
As if he knew they were talking about him, he met Diana’s eyes and winked yet again. “Definitely not. I don’t want to pass on that strange tic he has.”
Alyssa slapped her hand. “He’s winking at you.”
“Maybe he’s winking at you,” Diana insisted. “Regardless, I’m not interested.”
“You know, I don’t know why you would lock yourself in with him again,” Alyssa said. “He’s the same man you married. He hasn’t changed.”
“But he has changed,” Diana defended, her food and drink forgotten. “Just like I have. I don’t gamble anymore, and he doesn’t stay at work all night.”
“And how do you know that?” Alyssa asked, staring into her friend’s eyes. Diana could see the disapproval and disbelief there.
“Because for the last two weeks, he’s spent his free time with me. In fact, he wanted to see me tonight, but I told him I had plans with you,” Diana told her, watching as emotions flickered across Alyssa’s face, the most prominent of which looked like absolute hatred.
“Well, don’t do me any favors. If you want to spend time with your ex-husband, you certainly can. I won’t stop you.”
“The snarky comments are a little overkill, don’t you think?” Diana asked after a moment of silence. The bartender set fresh drinks in front of them and walked away without comment, judging the atmosphere around them.
“I wasn’t being snarky,” Alyssa said, her voice and face pouting.
“You’ve been putting me off, not the other way around,” Diana reminded her. “I asked you to go for drinks three times before you finally agreed.”
“I’ve been busy,” Alyssa replied shortly, her eyes on their food.
“Obviously. Listening to the confessions of a prostitute,” Diana joked, nudging her friend’s shoulder. “Let’s not fight, huh?”
Alyssa sighed and took her hand. “The only reason I’m being a bitch about Travis is because I love you and I don’t want to watch you get hurt. I mean, at one point, you thought he was screwing around, remember?”
“He said he didn’t,” Diana explained with a shrug. “I believe him.”
“That’s an awfully naïve belief, bordering on stupid.”
Diana jerked back as if Alyssa had slapped her. The comment had been rude, but saying it as if she believed it was worse. “Are you calling me stupid?”
“Jesus, Diana. I said you were bordering on stupid,” Alyssa grumbled, her eyes narrowed at her. “Dating your ex-husband is stupid, though, especially when he probably cheated.”
Diana lifted a hand to stop her. “Okay, wait. You said I thought he cheated, but now you’re saying he probably cheated.” Diana watched her friend’s face. “Do you know something?”
Alyssa threw her head back and exhaled loudly like a teenager speaking to her mother. “No, I don’t know anything. Just like you, I made the assumption.”
“Well, don’t make the assumption.” Diana’s anger had returned. Alyssa was deliberately goading her, saying the rudest thing she could just to be an ass. “Travis and I are going to date. And you’re right, I never did fall out of love with him, and that love is getting stronger every day. So if you’re going to be my friend, you’ll have to learn to deal with him in my life.”
Alyssa gasped and put her hand over her chest. “Are you saying you’ll choose him over me?”
“I don’t plan to have to make a choice,” Diana said gently, sighing. “You’ve always protected me, but believe me when I say that this time, it’s different with him,” Diana explained. “I have one-hundred-percent faith in Travis.”
Alyssa nodded, frowning. After a few minutes, she lifted her glass. “If you think this is right, then I’ll support you one-hundred percent.” Diana looked at her, and Alyssa sighed loudly again. “And I’ll do my best to be polite. If you make me spend time with him.”
Diana nodded, and they clinked glasses and drank. Alyssa set her glass on the bar and gazed at Diana, her expression clear of emotion. “But if he hurts you again, I’m cutting his balls off and leaving him to bleed out.”
Diana nodded, smiling at her friend’s fierce protectiveness. “Okay. That’s fair.”
Alyssa smiled back. “Okay. So, what’s your secret?” Diana blushed, and Alyssa snickered. “Oh, this must be good if you’re blushing before you even say it.”
Diana leaned close and whispered, “The idea of being tied up is such a turn on!”
“You slut!”
Diana laughed as well. “I think maybe, since I’m with Travis, who I trust completely, I might try it.”
“Oh, please do it! But if you do, I want details! Do you hear me?” Alyssa pointed at her as if she might keep the secret from her.
Diana nodded, the alcohol rushing in her head. She was wet just thinking about it, and a plan began to form in her brain for the next night with Travis.
Chapter 12
At lunch the next day, Travis was working rather than eating. The meeting that morning hadn’t gone as planned due to permits and nonsense the town was using to prevent the renovations. He and Michael had been given no heads-up about the block and were now trying to find a way to fight the city council, which believed there was no need for a stand-alone ER in their town. The doctors were furious, not with the pair of them but with their fellow citizens on the council who had voted to block specific changes that would zone the building as a medical site.
Travis was equally angry, and his anger was directed at his partner. Michael’s main function was to push through the paperwork required for the project, but he’d dropped the ball. He’d also called in sick that morning and missed the meeting, so Travis had stood in front of the doctors with no answers. He’d just been lucky that the two of them had been aware of the council’s negativity aimed at the ER and had promised him they’d begin an inquiry immediately.
He’d put off calling the man throughout the morning, but now that he was back at the office and sifting through the paperwork available to him, he jerked his phone off his desk and hit the man’s number. He inhaled deeply, trying to relax his hand so he didn’t break his phone.
“Hello?” Michael didn’t sound in the least sick when he answered.
“What the fuck, man?” Travis was in no mood for his partner’s boyish charm.
“That’s no way to begin a conversation, Travis
,” Michael said with a laugh. “What’s going on? How was the meeting?”
“Are you fucking high?” Travis yelled, his temper breaking. “Based on my greeting and my tone, it didn’t occur to you that the meeting went badly?”
Michael shushed someone in the background before answering. “Okay, so it didn’t go well. Why don’t you explain instead of acting like a dick?”
An ominous crack sounded from his phone. “You son of a bitch. If you were standing in front of me, I’d punch you in the fucking throat. Where’s the goddamned paperwork for city hall?”
“Paperwork? I filed it! Weeks ago!” Michael defended.
“Weeks ago, my ass,” Travis retorted, shuffling through the pile of copies on his desk. “There are no copies of anything filed with city hall. The city council has blocked our renovations.”
“Well, shit,” Michael said, deflated. “Listen, I’ll get on it. I had no idea anything was missing. I assumed the meeting would go well today and you wouldn’t need me.”
“So you aren’t sick,” Travis stated, his blood pressure rising.
“Uh, no, I had a little something to take care of this morning.” As if on cue, a giggle sounded in the background that Michael tried to shush.
“Dude, if you ruined this deal over a piece of ass, I will go to prison for killing you,” Travis threatened, imagining about four ways to kill his best friend as he said it.
“Hey, man, take it easy,” Michael began. “I’m handling it. Already working on an email.”
“Fix this.” Travis hit the end call button, wishing he’d been on the office phone so he could slam it down and hurt Michael’s ears. “Son of a bitch,” he cursed again, trying to expel some of the anger churning inside him.
He sat down and gathered the paperwork so he could put it all back in the file folders. He’d managed to make a real mess of it, upending the files and dumping all the papers out in his desperate search for the copies he was certain were there. Michael hadn’t made a mistake like this since they’d started their business, which meant the paperwork had to have been filed and someone at city hall had misplaced it. However, there were no copies, meaning the man had fucked up.
He reminded himself as he organized the papers that he would have to apologize later, but he’d wait until tomorrow. Michael deserved to sweat it until he’d corrected the monumental mistake. This project alone was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, and the doctors had verbally agreed to open two more stand-alone ERs in suburbs around New Orleans. If they botched this, they could lose millions.
When his phone beeped fifteen minutes later, indicating a text message, he debated ignoring it. His temper hadn’t cooled enough to deal with Michael, but he remembered he actually had someone else interested in texting him recently: Diana. Smiling and hoping it was her and not bad news from his partner, he reached for his phone and checked his messages.
DIANA: Hello, handsome. I hope you’re having a great day.
Travis smiled, as he always did when she texted. As he reread the compliment, trying to decide how to answer, his smile widened. She was always meticulous with her text messages, even when they’d been young and stupid. Typos were rare, and she never forgot her punctuation. Except when she was mad. He snickered as he remembered the erratic texts she would send when they were arguing. He would end the conversation when her words were misspelled or without spaces so they could argue in person.
TRAVIS: Hello, gorgeous. Not the best day, but I get to see you tonight, correct? That’ll make it better.
He realized for the first time that he made sure his punctuation was perfect when he texted her, but not when he texted anyone else. He wanted to impress her more than anything.
DIANA: I was hoping you’d let me cook you dinner at my place tonight.
TRAVIS: That would be perfect! I’ll bring the wine.
DIANA: You know, you don’t have to get me drunk to get me naked.
Travis was so surprised by her statement he almost dropped his phone. The woman who had been wide-eyed and innocent when he’d met her was so forward now. He loved it and couldn’t wait to explore her love of the erotic. She had surprised him more than once in the last two weeks, and though he wasn’t jealous, he wondered who she’d been with while they were apart. He kind of wanted to thank the guy. Or guys, he thought with a frown. Then he reminded himself he’d been around a time or two during the five years apart, and he had no right to expect her to have stayed home and waited for him.
TRAVIS: I need some naked Diana in my life right now.
DIANA: I’ll make you forget your bad day after dinner. Promise.
She sent a little devil emoji with an evil grin on its face, and he chuckled.
TRAVIS: You are a devilish woman.
DIANA: You have no idea. What time?
Travis glanced around his office and realized that without the proper paperwork filed, there was no work to be done. The ER was their only current project because they had known it would take so much of their time.
TRAVIS: If you want, I can be there in twenty minutes.
DIANA: Haha! Well, since I work until five, why don’t you wait and come over around 6:30. A girl has to fix her makeup for a date.
TRAVIS: I like you with no makeup…and no clothes.
DIANA: Don’t call me a devil, you dirty old man!
TRAVIS: I’m only a couple years older than you.
DIANA: Still older haha!
TRAVIS: And certainly not prettier. I’ll see you tonight.
DIANA: See you tonight. Totally casual, so don’t come over here in a suit and tie.
TRAVIS: But I just had my tuxedo dry cleaned.
DIANA: I do love a man in a tux. As long as he’s wearing a vest.
TRAVIS: Hope you like neon color schemes…
DIANA: Good Lord. Get back to work.
TRAVIS: See you tonight.
Travis was tempted to add the I love you they used to end every text message with, but it was entirely too soon. She was not ready, and he wasn’t sure he was ready. The feelings were there, but the fear, in both of them, hadn’t abated in the least.
That’s okay, he decided as he pocketed his phone and dug for his keys. He patted his other pocket for his wallet—a habit he’d picked up years ago after being pickpocketed one afternoon on the French Quarter—before heading for the door. He locked up and was rummaging through his brain for the best wine, although he had no idea what she was serving. He’d get a red and a white to be safe, and flowers, of course.
He meandered down the sidewalk to the same flower shop where he’d bought the first bouquet for her two weeks before. When he reached it, he walked inside and inhaled deeply, smiling at the woman behind the counter, who recognized him immediately.
“Hello, Mr. Mysterious!” she exclaimed, her smile like a grandmother’s as her eyes twinkled at him. “You have no idea the tears you left me with when you paid for that young lady’s wedding flowers.”
He grinned at her as he leaned against the counter. “So I did leave enough to cover their flowers?”
“Oh yes, and both she and her mother left you little notes in case you came back,” she told him, holding up her finger as she dug in a drawer. “Let me see…ah! Here they are.” She produced two small envelopes that would normally be tucked in a flower arrangement delivered to someone’s office.
“Thank you,” he said as he took them from her and tucked them in his front pocket to read later. A quick look of disappointment flashed on the woman’s face, so he smiled and asked, “Do you own this shop?”
“I do. Have for thirty years,” she announced proudly. As she looked around, her smile grew wistful. “Flowers are my passion, sir.”
“And it shows in the perfect blossoms you sell. You must have your own greenhouse?”
Her smile narrowed her eyes, and she chortled. “You’re a smart one, you are. And good looking. I assume since you’re back, your young lady liked the last bouquet.”
“So much tha
t’s she’s cooking dinner for me tonight,” Travis told her, winking at her.
“You little charmer!” She giggled, flicking his chin with her finger like a grandmother would when he was being cheeky. She clapped her hands together and looked around. “Well, you gave her her favorite flower last time. Can’t give her the same thing, so what are you thinking this time?”
With a big grin, he said, “What flower says I’m falling for you?”
“Oooh! That is so sweet!” She fanned her face as if he’d said he was falling for her. “Such a romantic! Well”—she scurried around the counter to grab his hand and drag him to a display—“red roses are the obvious choice.”
“Not too obvious, I hope?” he asked, teasing her a little.
“Never! A woman who doesn’t love roses is incapable of love,” she said with such certainly he believed her like she spoke the Gospel.
“Perfect. Can you please deliver them this time? I have her work address,” he asked.
“Today? Hmmm, my delivery boy just left,” she said as she glanced at a clock over the counter. “What time does she leave work?”
“Five.”
“That gives us four hours. We’ll get them to her,” she promised, smiling. “Why don’t you write her a card while I ring this up?”
“Oh no, no card. She’ll know who they’re from,” Travis told her.
She wagged her finger at him. “Mr. Mystery.”
She told him the price and he handed her cash again, making a mental note to always pay in cash when he stopped by. The sweet woman enjoyed the idea of his mysteriousness, so he’d give her something to gossip about with her friends. He just hoped she referred to him as the handsome man rather than that weirdo who paid for a bride’s flowers and sent anonymous flowers to some woman.
Diana’s specialty, and one of Travis’ favorite meals she used to cook for him, was lasagna. But she felt cooking lasagna for him was in bad taste since that was the meal she’d made for him the night they’d decided to divorce. Instead, she’d chosen to make butter and garlic shrimp over risotto with a tossed salad. She’d forgotten he’d told her he would bring wine, so when she’d stopped and grabbed the ingredients for their dinner, she’d picked up a bottle of red. While cooking, she opened it and had a glass because the more she thought about her plan for the evening, the more nervously excited she became.