Trinity Falls

by Regina Hart

  “No.”

  It was going to be a long night.

  Ean took in the restaurant’s beige-and-gray stone walls and wood trim. The lighting was low, giving the place a romantic ambience. He still noticed the other diners looking hastily away. So it hadn’t been his imagination. People were staring at them. The town’s prodigal son had returned home and was out for the evening with his high-school-sweetheart-turned-town-leader. He should have anticipated the stares.

  A movement toward the front of the restaurant caught his attention. Ean froze. The hostess was leading Quincy and Megan to a nearby booth.

  Impulse lifted him from his seat and prodded him to call across the aisle. “Quincy.”

  “What are you doing?” Ramona came to life, hissing like an angry tigress. She glanced over her shoulder, then faced forward, squeezing her eyes shut.

  Quincy turned toward Ean’s voice. His expression stiffened when his gaze dropped to Ramona. Megan looked around, too. She seemed surprised—and dismayed?—to see him.

  Ean waved them over. “Join us.” Please.

  For the second night this week, he hoped the company of friends would defuse an uncomfortable dinner.

  “I don’t want them here.” Ramona roasted him with her glare.

  Quincy and Megan consulted with each other. Megan shook her head twice in response to whatever Quincy said. Finally, the young hostess led the couple to Ean and Ramona’s booth.

  Quincy must have met Megan right after the bookstore closed. What were they doing here together? They couldn’t be on a date. The idea threatened his appetite.

  Megan carried her navy coat over her left arm. She wore a dark gray sweater dress. The color wasn’t appealing, but the material traced her slim curves and ended just below her knees. Her dark, wavy hair floated around her shoulders.

  Ean waited until the hostess left before speaking. “What a coincidence, running into you tonight.”

  “Not really.”

  He ignored Ramona’s sarcasm and moved over to give Quincy more room.

  Megan sat beside her cousin. “I thought you said you’d never eat here.”

  Ramona’s scowl darkened. “This wasn’t my idea.”

  Quincy opened the menu and studied its contents. “Refusing to eat at a perfectly good restaurant just because it’s in your backyard is nonsensical.”

  Ean’s eyes widened. He didn’t think anyone had ever spoken so dismissively to Ramona before. A ghost of a smile softened Megan’s lips. Ramona’s scowl deepened.

  Ean addressed his friend. “I take it you’ve eaten here before.” He meant to divide his attention equally between Megan and Quincy, but his gaze lingered on Megan.

  “Several times.” Quincy sounded preoccupied.

  Then why are you studying the menu as though you’ve never seen it before? And have you always come together? Are the two of you dating? Ean wouldn’t ask those questions—even though he was frantic for the answers.

  “What would you recommend?” Ean kept his gaze on Megan’s bent head.

  The differences between Megan and Ramona were even more pronounced as they shared the booth’s bench seating. Both women were lovely, but in different ways.

  Everything about Megan was understated in comparison to her cousin. She was quietly elegant, with conservative clothes, lack of makeup and minimal jewelry. In contrast, Ramona’s expertly applied makeup and thick gold jewelry gave her an exotic appearance.

  Megan looked up and her gaze locked with Ean’s. She hesitated before answering. “I like their chicken Parmesan. What about you, Quincy?”

  His friend peeled his attention from the menu. “I like the New York strip steak and steamed vegetables.”

  Ramona’s grunt was far from ladylike. “If you want a New York steak, you should go to New York.”

  Quincy met Ramona’s gaze without expression. “It’s typical of you to criticize something you know nothing about.”

  Ean stared at Quincy. What was the cause of his hostility?

  Ramona leaned into the table and hissed, “I know what a New York steak tastes like.” She turned on Ean. “Tell them.”

  “Ramona.” Megan’s low voice was a request.

  Ean ignored Ramona’s command. “Both recommendations sound good. I’ll go with the steak, though. I’ve already had chicken this week.”

  Ean gave Megan a quick glance. Did she remember their dinner—and the kiss they shared? She looked away. The blush rising beneath her honey brown skin said she did.

  Their server arrived to take their drink orders. She appeared young enough to be carded, but must have been a student at Trinity Falls University. Everyone ordered iced tea, except Ramona, who wanted white wine.

  Ramona leaned back into her seat. She looked from Quincy, who was diagonally across the table from her, to Megan on her left. “Are you two dating?” The question was tinged with sarcasm.

  Ean stilled. He needed to hear the answer. But wouldn’t Quincy have said something to him? Wouldn’t Megan have mentioned it Thursday night?

  “Are you and Ean dating?” Quincy’s response didn’t relieve Ean’s worry.

  But why was Ean concerned over whether one of his best friends was dating his ex-girlfriend’s cousin? He wasn’t concerned. He was jealous.

  Ramona held Ean’s gaze. A secretive smile curved her lips as she answered Quincy’s question. “I don’t know whether or not we’re dating again. It depends on whether I can convince Ean to return to New York with me.”

  Ean wasn’t playing this game. “That’s not going to happen, Ramona.”

  Quincy shrugged. His response was swift and satisfied. “It sounds like you have your answer. You’re not dating.”

  Ean frowned at his friend. In high school, Quincy had barely spoken two words to Ramona. That had been bad enough. But now his friend wouldn’t stop attacking her. Why?

  “Are you really staying in Trinity Falls?” Megan’s question redirected the tension.

  Ean met her gaze. “I wouldn’t have come back if I didn’t intend to stay.”

  He wasn’t dating Ramona and he was staying in Trinity Falls. What did Megan think about these things?

  Their server delivered their drinks, then offered to take their orders. Ean and Quincy ordered the steak. Megan requested the chicken Parmesan. Apparently, she wasn’t opposed to eating the same thing several nights a week.

  Then the young woman asked for Ramona’s order.

  Ramona glared at the menu. “Did you get this salmon fresh?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The young woman stood with her pen poised above her notepad.

  “How fresh?” Ramona’s questions snapped out with a speed and ferocity that would catapult a criminal prosecutor to fame.

  “I—I’m certain it’s fresh, ma’am.” The server seemed taken aback by the cross-examination.

  Ean studied Ramona, her tense posture, her strident voice, her lack of eye contact with the server. Had she been this arrogant in high school?

  “You don’t sound certain.” Ramona’s eyes remained glued to the menu.

  Megan turned to her cousin. “Ramona.”

  “What?” Ramona snapped the word. “Why are you always whispering my name? That’s so annoying.”

  “Stop it. You’re making a scene.” Megan spoke through clenched teeth.

  Ramona rolled her eyes, then addressed their server. “Are you certain the salmon is fresh—”

  Ean interrupted the exchange. “Ramona, she answered your question.”

  The server’s pen began to shake above the notepad. “We get all of our seafood fresh, ma’am.”

  “Stop calling me ‘ma’am.’”

  The young woman’s eyes grew large. “Yes, m . . . yes.”

  Quincy’s sigh was long and loud. “Mona, do you want the fish or not? If you want it, for the love of God, order it or I’ll order something for you.”

  Ean sat back in his chair. No one had ever spoken to Ramona that way in her life. Of that, he was certain. Even
Megan did a slow blink at Quincy’s outburst. He prepared himself for the fireworks.

  Ramona erupted like Vesuvius. “My name isn’t ‘Mona.’ Don’t—”

  “People are starving in Third World countries while—”

  “—call me that!”

  “—you cross-examine our server.”

  “And you wouldn’t dare order my meal!”

  Quincy narrowed his gaze. “Test me.”

  Ean glanced at the nearby tables. People didn’t seem to realize he was there any longer. All eyes were on Ramona and Quincy. Considering the circumstances, that wasn’t an improvement. Apparently, Megan felt the same. Her cheeks were bright red and she stared at her glass of iced tea as though it could transport her away.

  Ramona shoved her menu toward the server in a dismissive gesture, but saved her glare for Quincy. “Get me the salmon. And it had better be fresh.”

  “Yes, m . . . yes.” The young woman took Ramona’s menu, then fled the scene.

  Ean was certain the outburst would be all over Trinity Falls before he, Quincy, Megan and Ramona left the restaurant.

  Megan sat up in her seat and rubbed a hand over her hair. “Now that we have everyone’s attention, perhaps we can try to act as though we’ve eaten in formal restaurants before.”

  Ramona expelled an affronted gasp. “This wasn’t my fault.”

  “Nothing ever is.” Quincy turned to Ean before Ramona could respond. “So you’re here to stay. And what are you going to do?”

  Ean took a drink of his iced tea. “Find a job.”

  He didn’t know what bizarre phenomenon had changed his best friend into his sworn enemy. But he was in danger of losing his appetite if Quincy and Ramona continued to act out their hostility.

  “What do you want to do?”

  In response to Megan’s question, Ean shrugged. “For now, I just want a job. There are several companies nearby. I’ll apply for work in their legal departments.”

  Ramona sipped her wine. “You had a job in New York.”

  “New York wasn’t home.” Ean set his glass on the table.

  Ramona laughed. “Do you really think this town can keep your interest this time?”

  Ean shifted his attention to Megan and held her gaze. “Yes, it can.”

  Megan dropped her gaze.

  There, Ean thought, Ramona and I are done. He glanced at Quincy. But what was his friend’s role in Megan’s life?

  CHAPTER 11

  Ean responded to the summons from his front doorbell, but first stopped to check the security window. What was Ramona doing on his front steps? He thought he’d made it clear that he wasn’t interested in reconciling with her.

  He pulled the door open and stepped aside.

  “Oh.” Ramona turned and stepped hastily past him into the foyer. She placed her right hand delicately in front of her nose. “Were you working in the yard?”

  Ean glanced down at his sweat-soaked blue T-shirt. “No, I just ran ten miles.”

  Ramona shook her head. “Ean, it’s Sunday morning. Don’t you know all roads lead to church?”

  “Not for me.” Ean locked the front door.

  Ramona took another step back. “You’re not in New York anymore. People in Trinity Falls will talk if you don’t go to church.”

  Ean led the way to the kitchen. “Since when do you care what people say?” He refilled his glass with ice water from the refrigerator. “Would you like some?”

  “When were you planning to take a shower?” Ramona’s voice came from the doorway.

  “When were you planning to leave?” Ean gulped more water.

  Ramona’s expression darkened. She lowered her hand. “I came to talk about what you said at the restaurant last night.”

  “Which was what?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  Ean drained the water, then put his empty glass in the dishwasher. “I said a lot of things.”

  “You said you weren’t going back to New York.”

  “I’ve said that before.” He turned from the dishwasher and settled his hips against the kitchen counter. “I’ve meant it every time.”

  “And I meant what I said, too.” Ramona crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Which was what?”

  Ramona huffed. “That I will break up with you if you don’t return to New York with me.”

  Ean gave her a dry smile. “You broke up with me six years ago when you left New York.”

  “And I’ll break up with you again.”

  How would that work? “That’s probably for the best.”

  Ramona worked her mouth several times before words came out. “What do you mean?”

  “Ramona, I’ve changed. I’m not the same guy you dated in high school. We want different things now.”

  “But you want the wrong things.”

  “They’re not wrong for me.”

  She marched across the kitchen and grabbed his forearms. “You’ve got to return to New York. With me, things will be different.”

  Ean pulled free of her hold. “Our relationship wouldn’t work, Ramona. We’re too different now.”

  She retreated as she studied his face. “I know my arguing with Quincy made you uncomfortable.”

  What was behind her sudden change of topic? Ean played along. “Why were you two at each other’s throat all night?”

  Ramona shrugged. “He was arguing. I was just defending myself.”

  Ean looked beyond Ramona’s pouty expression to the temper in her dark eyes. “Since when does Quincy argue with you? In high school, he barely spoke with you.”

  Surprise wiped away Ramona’s anger. “I can’t believe you don’t know.”

  “What?”

  “You really don’t know?” Ramona rolled her eyes. “Quincy’s in love with me. He has been since high school.”

  “What?” Ean’s head spun.

  “That’s probably why he was angry with me last night. He knows that now you’re here, he doesn’t stand a chance with me. There’s no need for you to feel threatened.”

  Ean frowned. “I’m surprised, not threatened. Quincy’s a good guy. You should give him a chance.”

  Ramona’s eyes stretched wide. “You’re giving me to Quincy?”

  “No.” Had she screeched this much in high school? No wonder his mother didn’t want her as a daughter-in-law. “But you could do a lot worse than Quincy.”

  Ramona lifted her black purse higher on her shoulder. “Is this some sort of joke? Don’t take too long to come to your senses, Ean. You could find that you’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  Ramona stomped from the kitchen. Moments later the front door opened, then slammed shut.

  Ean straightened away from the kitchen counter and strode to the foyer. He locked his mother’s front door, then mounted the stairs to the shower. Quincy was one of his best friends; but since Ean had returned from New York, that friendship had been strained. Was Ramona the cause of that? Did Quincy really have a crush on her in high school? Was he in love with her now? If so, why hadn’t he ever said anything?

  There was only one way to get answers to those questions. He wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation.

  Hours later, Ean pressed the doorbell to Quincy’s two-story townhome. It was like the signal to the second round of a prizefighter’s match—the prize being a friendship he valued too much to let go. The first round in Quincy’s office hadn’t gone well. He had higher hopes for this morning, especially with the new information.

  Quincy greeted him with a scowl that ground his hopes to dust. “Why are you here?”

  Not the welcome he’d hoped for. “Are you going to let me in?”

  Quincy hesitated before stepping back.

  Ean entered the living room. He’d been to Quincy’s town house a few times during his brief visits home. The living room wasn’t large, but it was comfortable. He crossed the beige Berber carpet and settled onto the thick brown sofa. The honey wood furnishings cre
ated a soothing environment, which was at odds for such an angry man.

  Across the room, suspended from the wall, was a large, flat-screen, high-definition television. Beside it was a tall matching bookcase crammed with history and professional journals. On the coffee table in front of him lay recent copies of sports magazines.

  Quincy propped his shoulder against the archway separating the living room from the rest of the ground floor. “What do you want?”

  Ean sized up his witness, from his shaved head to his bare feet, before laying out the evidence in support of his case. “You and Ramona got into it at the restaurant last night.”

  “Are you here to ask for an apology for your girlfriend?” Quincy wiped all expression from his face.

  The former running back used to do the same thing before lining up against their opponent’s defense. Quincy didn’t believe in giving anything away. So how had Ramona known Quincy had had a crush on her? Was it true or was Ramona speculating?

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  A flicker of surprise blinked across Quincy’s rugged features before he masked it. “If you aren’t here for an apology, what do you want?”

  “Is it true you’ve been in love with Ramona since high school?”

  Quincy’s stunned silence was all the confirmation Ean needed. How could I not have known?

  “Who told you that?” Quincy’s voice was tight.

  “She did.”

  Quincy squeezed his eyes shut. “And who told her?” Every word seemed forced from his lips.

  Ean stood, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his gray jeans. “She figured it out.”

  Surprise, confusion and hurt crossed Quincy’s face. “Great.”

  “Is that why you’ve been pissed since I came home?”

  Quincy paced across the room, stopping in the archway between the living room and the dining area, with his back toward Ean. “I thought you were going to reconcile.”

  “Q, why didn’t you make your move when Ramona returned six years ago?”

  Quincy spun to face him. “Oh, so you think I’d have a clear shot, once the great Ean Fever removed himself from the running? Thanks for your permission.”

  “Man, she broke up with me.” Why did people keep forgetting that?