by Tawny Taylor
The hostess stopped at a table near the back of the open space. “Is this okay?” she asked.
“It’s fine,” Jill said as she grabbed the back of one of the chairs. “Thank you.”
“Your server will be with you shortly.” The hostess scurried back to her station while Jill and I took our seats.
I scanned the area. “No menus.”
“The server will probably bring them. Or he might have to recite the menu. I had lunch at a place this week that had no printed menu. The wait staff had to recite it for every customer.”
I leaned toward her and whispered, “No menu means no prices.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Looking a little too casual, considering where we were, Jill sipped from her stemmed water glass.
I angled even closer. “Do you know something I don’t? Did you win the lottery?”
“Um, well.” Jill’s lips twisted. “I did get a bit of a raise.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Actually, I got a big raise. And a promotion.” Grinning like a total goon, my bestie held up her glass. “You’re now looking at the new partner at Schwartz and Eddings, soon to be Schwartz, Eddings and Staton.”
“Congratulations!” I lifted my glass, and we clinked them. “To my bestie and her new position.”
“And to new opportunities for you,” Jill offered.
“Does that mean you have a lead on a new job for me?”
“No. I asked.” Jill’s smile faded. “They’ve already hired my new assistant. Sorry.” She pulled a full pouty frown. “You know I would’ve given you a good word if they hadn’t.”
“No biggie. Like I said, I’ll find something.”
Jack, our tuxedo-shirted waiter hustled over, beamed and introduced himself before giving an Oscar worthy presentation of each menu option. I was tempted to applaud when he was finished.
“Wow,” I said, “that was some performance.”
His beam brightened. “Thank you. Theater major.”
“I would never have guessed.” I looked to Jill, figuring I’d let her order first and then get the same thing.
“I’ll take the beef medallions,” Jill said.
Jack nodded, looked to me.
“I’ll go with the same.”
“Would you like a wine list?” he asked.
“We’ll take a couple of glasses of your house red,” Jill said.
“Very good.”
And off he went.
Jill grinned. “I just ordered a meal without knowing the price, and I don’t care.”
“I’m very happy for you.”
While we ate our meals, Jill jabbered about her new job. I’d never seen her so excited before. Even though my future wasn’t looking nearly as bright as hers, I was genuinely thrilled for her.
At one point, Jill looked at me, guilt dimming the sparkles in her eyes. “I need to shut up. Here I am, going on and on and you’re wondering when you’ll get your next paycheck.”
“Please don’t stop.” I waved my fork at her. “I couldn’t be any happier for you. You have busted your ass for that law firm. You deserve the promotion, and so much more.”
“Did I tell you I’m getting my own assistant?” she asked, bouncing in her seat. “And a real office. With a door and everything.”
“You did.”
“I just can’t believe it. I mean, sure, I’ve been working hard. But to finally have someone recognize all that hard work.” She licked her lips, pushing her empty plate away. “Was that meal insanely delicious or what?”
“It was.” I smiled down at my own plate, which was empty too.
“Can I make a confession?” Jill asked.
“Sure.”
“I’m a little scared. About the job. What if I can’t handle it? What if I fail?”
“You won’t. You’ve never failed at anything.”
“What about the ski trip from hell?” she asked.
“Except for that.”
“I’m still scared.”
“I get that.”
The waiter hurried over, asked if we were interested in the dessert menu, and, when we passed, gave us the bill. Jill sent him off with her credit card.
I was watching him shuffle away when I caught some movement out of the corner my eye. I looked.
Shane.
He wasn’t alone.
Ohmygod.
“Bristol?” Jill tapped my hand. “What’re you staring at?”
I jerked my gaze away and pulled my lips into a smile. “Oh, nothing. I thought I saw someone I knew. But I was wrong.”
Jill swiveled in her chair, following the direction of my gaze before turning back around.
The waiter returned, set the leather folder with Jill’s credit card and receipt in it, thanked us, and within minutes, we were headed for the exit. As I followed Jill, Shane’s words echoed in my head.
I don’t want another submissive. I want…a girlfriend. A lover. A partner.
How long ago had he said that? And did he ever say, for sure, that he wanted those things with me?
But what about, It’s over. There’s no one else.
And, I’m a stubborn ass sometimes, and I’ve learned some of the issues I have run deep.
My belly sank to my toes.
Shit. Exactly what kind of issues are we dealing with?
Maybe I was being a fool, putting all my trust in a man who’d told me he wasn’t trustworthy.
As I buckled myself into Jill’s car, I said, “I’ve changed my mind. I think I will take up Drake on his offer. What could a cup of coffee hurt?”
My best friend looked genuinely pleased. “I don’t think you’ll regret it.” She shifted her car into drive and punched the gas, and we zigged through the parking lot and out onto the street. “And by the way, when you marry him, I will be your maid of honor right?”
Marriage? “Jumping the gun a little, aren’t you?”
Smiling, she shrugged. “Maybe a little. So what’s your answer.”
“Yes. Of course you’ll be my maid of honor. Whomever I marry. Whenever I marry.”
If I marry.
Chapter 5
I was my number one critic, but tonight, even I had to admit I looked good. Having ignored Shane’s phone calls for the next twelve hours--I didn’t trust myself not to say something I’d regret--I was just about finished getting ready for my coffee date with Drake. It turned out he wasn’t hard to track down after all. Jill and I found him on the internet and within minutes I was chatting with him on the phone. Twenty four hours after I’d spotted Shane having dinner with Alexis, I was about to see my ex-boyfriend for the first time in years.
I was really nervous, despite telling myself it was only coffee. It wasn’t like I was going to have sex with him or anything.
I did one final mirror check before scurrying toward the door, expecting him at any moment. As I flew past Jill, she gave me a whistle and exclaimed, “Girl, you’re going to kill him tonight.”
“Thanks.” I smoothed my hands down my dress, fingertips hitting skin much earlier than I would’ve liked. “Are you sure this dress isn’t too short?”
“It’s short but not slutty. You’re good.” She gave me two thumbs up.
“Okay.” The bell rang, and my heart jumped. “He’s here,” I said to no one in particular.
“Open the door!” Jill yelled.
I tugged on the hem of my dress again then opened the door.
My god, he looked great. He’d aged, yes. But aged well. Very well.
“Wow,” he said as he stepped inside.
I couldn’t help smiling. “You look pretty good yourself.”
He extended his arms, welcoming me to step into them, and I did. But the hug felt a little strange. Not the way I remembered it. “It’s great to see you again,” he said as I moved out of his embrace.
“Great to see you too.”
He glanced past me, catching sight of Jill sitting on the couch, watching us. “Jill.”
“Drake. Treat my girl right this time, or I will personally kick your ass!”
He raised his hands in a sign of surrender. “I’ve made some mistakes in the past, but I’ve never repeated them.” His gaze slid to mine.
I felt my face warm. What was he trying to say? Did he think he might want to try to start over with me?
I wasn’t sure I was ready to even think about that.
I wasn’t sure he was ready to think about that either.
“I made a seven o’clock reservation,” he said as he placed a hand on the small of my back, touching me like Shane. It didn’t have the same effect. “We should get going.”
“Reservation? For coffee?” I asked as I checked to make sure I had my phone in my purse.
“I’m hoping you won’t mind joining me for dinner…? I just flew into town an hour ago. Didn’t want to grab something on the run and be late picking you up.”
“Sure. Okay.” I headed outside and down the walk. There was a Mercedes parked in my driveway. Years ago, when we’d been dating, Drake had driven a rusty old Ford. “Wow,” I said as he pulled open the door for me. “Looks like things have been going well for you.”
“Very well,” he said. He shut the door, circled the car and folded his beefy frame into the driver’s seat. “I started my own business, have been living and breathing work since we broke up.” His gaze met mine. “I wasn’t lying when I said I needed some time to get my life together. I meant it. And I spent every day working my ass off to do just that.”
“So, it wasn’t a line,” I said in a joking tone. The fact was I’d convinced myself it was a lie when he’d said it. An excuse to dump me for someone else.
“It was the honest truth,” he said, looking sincere. “When I contacted you again, a couple of years after we broke up, I was so...disappointed to hear you were involved with someone else. I figured I’d lost my chance.”
He started the car and the engine purred like a big jungle cat, like Shane’s car. It accelerated smoothly as he steered it down my road toward the intersection. “What about you? How have things been?”
“Well, overall okay. Mom died.”
Driving, he flicked a glance my way. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You know we were never close.” I played with the strap of my purse.
“I do remember that. But I’m still sorry. I’m sure you grieved.”
“I guess I did in my own way.”
“Everything else is okay?”
“Sure,” I lied. It wasn’t the time or place to mention the fact that I’d just lost my job and was maybe a month or two away from foreclosure. I’d fallen a little behind on my mortgage before I’d lost my job, thanks to the added burden of keeping up Mom’s place. The inflow of cash from Shane had allowed me to get out from under that sinking ship, but hadn’t been enough to get my payments caught up.
As we pulled up to a light, he slid his hand under mine and lifted it. “No ring?”
“No ring.” I added, “What about you?”
“No ring here either. It’s been six months since the divorce was final.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. It was an amicable split. Julie and I just weren’t right for each other.” He smiled, reminding me why I’d fallen so hard for him years ago. His smile was nearly as arresting as Shane’s. Nearly. “I’m glad we got in touch,” he said as he wove his fingers between mine.
“Me too,” I admitted. Unlike him, I was warring with conflicting feelings. I was glad to see him. He looked great. And I could see he’d spent our time apart accomplishing something really important. But when he touched me, I felt a little uncomfortable. Kind of…guilty. Like I was doing something wrong.
That irritated me. A lot.
I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
There was no commitment between Shane and me. He was having dinner with other people. I could too.
Could, yes. But that was one thing I’d never done. I’d never gone out with one man when I was seeing another. Not for dinner. Not even for coffee.
Tightening my hold on Drake’s hand, I studied his profile while he drove. He was every bit as handsome as Shane. Younger, yes. But just as sexy. Just as strong. And, from the looks of it, maybe just as successful too.
My body did respond to his touch, especially when his thumb dragged across the top of my hand. But it wasn’t the same as it was with Shane. Shane could merely look at me, and I was tight and hot and wet.
Give Drake a chance. What do you have to lose? Not even Shane is confident the thing with him can work.
We turned into the parking lot for Delo’s, the same place I’d gone with Jill. The same place I’d seen Shane with that witch from the party.
We held hands as we walked inside. I let go when we stepped up to the hostess’ stand. And my gaze went right to the table where I’d seen Shane as we followed her to our table.
Of course, he wasn’t there now. But a little stab of pain burned in my belly nonetheless.
Bastard.
We were escorted to a table in the back. Drake made a point to pull out my chair and push it in for me as I sat, then he took his seat. He gave me a long, lingering look. “It’s so great seeing you again.”
“You said that already,” I responded with a chuckle.
“I know. I figure I’ve got some ass kissing to do since I’ve been MIA for years.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t disagree with that statement.”
The waitress hurried over, introduced herself and asked for our drink orders. Drake ordered a bottle of wine, and off she scurried to get it for us.
“Tell me everything I’ve missed,” he said as soon as she was out of earshot.
“Well, there isn’t much to tell,” I started.
But with his prompts and encouragement, I kept talking. Only taking a break here and there when the waitress came with our wine, or to take our order, or to bring our food. By the time we’d finished the main course, I was stuffed and out of news to share with him.
“Enough,” I said, placing my napkin on top of my plate. “I’ve had enough to eat, and I have been talking too much.”
“I’ve enjoyed every word,” Drake said, reaching over to take my hand again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have been there with you. Especially when your mother died. The timing was bad.”
“Not your fault. You didn’t know my mother was going to die. Nobody could’ve known that.”
He flagged over our waitress and asked for the check then poured the last of the wine into our glasses. With my fingertips resting in his palm, I sipped the wine. It was sweet and smooth, delicious. I’d had just enough to feel a little warm on the inside but not so much that I was drunk.
“Your turn,” I said. “I want a full blow by blow description of the past few years, just like I gave you.”
“Hmm,” he said, lifting his glass and smiling a crooked grin that made me feel a little warmer. “That’ll take a while.”
“We’ve got all night,” I stated.
He lifted a brow. “Do we?”
The waitress returned with the check, and Drake pulled out some cash, closed it in the leather folder and stood. “If that’s the case, then let’s go somewhere quieter, where we can…talk.”
He escorted me out to his car, opened the door for me. I didn’t recall him being so polite back when we’d dated. But then again, we were both young back then. Young and stupid and impulsive…and immature. It appeared from the outside that Drake had done a lot of growing up between then and now. I imagined I had too.
He drove with an arm resting on the back of my seat, just like he did years ago. Back then, I felt cozy sitting beside him as he drove. I would lean close to him, rest a hand on his thigh. Now, I stayed in my seat, my hands in my lap. Old music played on the radio, from our high school days. It brought back memories. Stolen kisses. Dances in the gym. The thrill of first love.
“…the company’s revenues doubled in five years, and we’re pro
jecting even more aggressive growth in the next five,” Drake jabbered, sounding proud of his accomplishments.
“That’s amazing,” I said as I stared out the window. A fleeting image of Shane popped into my head. I smacked it down and turned to focus on Drake.
“Do you live alone?” he asked as we rolled to a stop at a light.
“Yes, I do.”
“Good.” He turned, heading toward my place. “I’m currently staying with some friends. It isn’t the ideal situation. But I wanted to take my time and find just the right house.”
“Where are you looking?”
“I haven’t decided. If you could buy a house anywhere, where would you buy?”
“Anywhere?”
“Sure.”
“I’d buy a farm in southern France. Or maybe a seaside villa in Spain.”
He chuckled. “I meant in Michigan.”
“Ah. Probably somewhere out a bit, away from the ‘burbs, where I could have some land, privacy, quiet.”
“Hmm. Sounds nice.” The corners of his lips curled up. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“For what?”
“Like I said, I want to buy the right house. The perfect house.” He turned into my driveway and cut off the engine.
“Well, thanks for the very nice meal.” Not wanting him to kiss me, I fiddled with my purse, digging for my keys.
“Can I come in?” he asked as he pulled his keys out of the ignition.
“Um, sure.”
We headed up. I closed and locked the front door, set my purse and keys on the table and turned.
Giving me no warning, Drake grabbed my arms, yanked me forward and kissed me.
It was a shock. Not entirely unpleasant, but still a shock.
I went with my first instinct and shoved him away.
He gave me a strange, slightly confused look. “What’s wrong? I thought we were getting reacquainted.”
“We are. But you need to slow down.”
“Okay. Sure. Sorry.” He lifted his hands in a show of surrender. His expression was apologetic. “I guess I got my signals crossed.”