Half Empty

by Catherine Bybee

  “You would have come running either way.” Trina was sure of that. When no one protested, she knew she was right.

  Shannon moved to the shower and turned it on. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Order something mild for breakfast.”

  That sounded good.

  Avery started for the door.

  “Don’t give Wade a hard time. He hasn’t so much as touched me.”

  Three sets of doubtful eyes met hers.

  “Not that he hasn’t suggested it. But he’s been nothing but respectful, regardless of my late night indulgence.”

  “He better not have.”

  “Avery!” Trina gave a warning.

  Her feisty blonde friend left the bathroom and the others followed.

  Alone, Trina stepped to the mirror and dared a look.

  Green was not her color.

  There had been many times in Wade’s life when he had been in a hotel room surrounded by beautiful women, but never, not even once, could he recall a time when three women stared him down with such doubt against his moral character as this pack of females. It was as if three lovers all got to talking and figured out he was seeing each of them.

  Wade was smarter than that. He never dated three women at the same time. When he was in between girlfriends, when he was free to date as many or as few women as he liked, he did so in different states. Making a situation like the one he was in right now next to impossible.

  It seemed his quiet little weekend without a crowd had come to a close, and he was the cog in the wheel of an all-girl party.

  With a smile, he greeted the women as he moved to the room service cart to pour a cup of coffee. “Ladies.”

  “So you’re Wade Thomas,” the woman with a chip on her shoulder the size of Texas said.

  “I am. And you would be?”

  “I’m Avery.” She pointed to the tall, thin, dark haired, model looking woman. “That’s Shannon.”

  “I’m Lori,” said the slightly less hostile blonde. “Trina’s lawyer.”

  Wade’s eyebrow went up with that. What an interesting introduction. “Funny, I thought you were all just her friends.”

  “We are. Just making sure the introductions are thorough.”

  Lawyers. He had yet to find one he truly liked.

  He took his first swig of coffee, happy to have the caffeine on board.

  “How did you two meet?”

  He could see the end of this conversation before it began. “In a bar in Miami, and before we begin twenty questions, let me sum this up. Yes, I hit on her. She is stunning and was oddly sad, and I had a desire to make her smile. But instead of taking me up on my offer, we drank and talked until the early morning hours. We ended up here, where there has been more talkin’ and drinkin’, but no foolin’ around.” He looked directly at Trina’s attorney. “My mama taught me never to mess with a girl who has had too much to drink or I might end up needing someone in your profession.” He sipped his coffee. “Anything else you wanna know, you’re gonna have to ask your friend.”

  He took a piece of toast from the table and ate half in one bite.

  Once he washed it down, he headed for the door. “Tell Miss Trina I’m going out to retrieve her broken phone. I’m sure I’m leaving her in capable hands.”

  Once he escaped the henhouse, he felt the weight of the women inside lift. It was good for his ego, he decided . . . to have so many women not falling at his feet. It had been a good long while since that had happened. If ever.

  The sun outside was a bright contrast to the day and evening before. The storm had blown through and left fresh, albeit humid, air behind. He hid his features with dark sunglasses as he walked down the still, quiet streets.

  Some debris left over from the storm littered the sidewalks, and sand made tiny drifts along the buildings. He managed a glimpse of the sea as he ducked around until he found the phone store.

  The clerk recognized him when he entered.

  They greeted and shook hands. “Where is your friend?” he asked.

  “We had a little bit too much fun last night at the place on the corner.” He pointed in the general direction of the bar they’d closed the night before.

  “Those tropical surprises have a kick.”

  “Sure do.”

  He produced the phone and turned it on. “I did a direct transfer overnight. It looks like everything is there, but if it isn’t, just have Ms. Petrov download it from the cloud.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Wade placed the phone, and her old one, back into the bag. “What do I owe you?”

  “She already paid.”

  Oh, yeah . . . he’d forgotten. “I guess that’s all, then.”

  The clerk stopped him before leaving. “One more thing.”

  Wade smiled, expecting some kind of comment on his music or recognition.

  “There was a hiccup during the download.”

  “Oh?”

  “Some kind of tracking app kept kicking an error message.”

  “Okay.”

  “It was strange,” he went on. “The icon wasn’t something I’d ever seen before, and it kept flashing, but so fast it would have easily been missed.”

  Wade shrugged. “What kind of tracking app was it?”

  “That’s just it, I don’t know. I saw it flash a map, and then the airport in Miami, then it brought up a map of London and flashed the name of London Heathrow.”

  “Probably just a glitch.”

  The clerk shrugged. “It also kept flashing text in a different language. Something Slavic, I think, which was what caught my attention.”

  Wade smiled. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “It seemed to be causing some havoc rebooting. I finally got it to work without an issue, but it wasn’t easy. When I looked in her app menu, there wasn’t anything there. Almost as if it was a virus running in the background. But since she said she dropped her phone in Miami, I assumed it wasn’t there by accident. If the app clogs up the phone, you might tell Ms. Petrov to remove it and download it again.”

  Wade nodded. “I’ll do that.”

  Instead of heading straight back to the hotel, Wade stopped at a small diner and ordered a big, greasy breakfast. For him, nothing combated a night of drinking better than a big meal. He doubted the women were done getting all the details out about how he and Trina had met, and he doubly doubted that Trina would want to watch him eat. Poor girl was bound to be ill all day after the night they’d had.

  He smiled. Not because she’d gotten drunk, but because even though she didn’t know him that well, she’d felt comfortable enough to do so in his presence. That sadness he’d told her friends that had lingered in Trina’s eyes had slowly faded in just a couple of days. When she smiled, something bright pierced his breastbone and lit him up. Maybe it was the chase, the fact she didn’t fall all over him. Or maybe it was just her.

  He liked her and really wanted to see her again.

  He’d have to make her posse of friends like him if he was going to get anywhere. Not to mention the reason he’d been chasing the sorrow from her eyes since they met. Who was the man she’d been married to? Why the hell did he commit suicide and leave her to pick up the pieces? Trina’s friends, he could manage . . . women had a hard time resisting his charm when he turned it on. But the man talking to angels? That might prove more difficult.

  Trina’s warnings about bad timing weren’t going to stop him.

  No way.

  He took her phone from the bag and typed in his personal number. When he typed in his name, he did so with a little extra. Wade, You Owe Me A Dance, Thomas.

  That should get her attention.

  He put the phone away and finished his breakfast.

  Before he left the restaurant, he called the pilot and asked how quickly they could fly home. He figured his welcome back at the hotel would be limited, and there was no reason to hang around to keep Trina smiling now that her friends had found her.

  Of course, he would
make sure she was okay with him ducking out before taking off. He felt he owed her that.

  On his way back to the hotel, his phone buzzed in his back pocket.

  “Where the hell are you?” The roughness of Jeb’s voice had Wade smiling.

  “Miss me?”

  “Seriously. How am I supposed to sit still when I don’t know where you are?”

  “Calm down, Jeb. I’m in the Bahamas.”

  “What . . . why?”

  “I met a woman.”

  Jed groaned. “A phone call would have helped.”

  “Good thing you called, then.” Wade turned the corner and onto the street of the hotel.

  “I assume there aren’t any flash mobs around.”

  “It’s an island. I’m safe. I’ll probably be heading back today.”

  “That was quick. Did you at least get her name?”

  Wade rolled his eyes. “Trina Petrov, and it isn’t like that, so knock it off.”

  Jeb was unusually silent on the other end.

  “You still there?”

  His phone clicked twice before he heard a dial tone. “Guess not,” he said to himself.

  Chapter Eight

  “You don’t have to leave.”

  “If I value my head, I think I should just make my way back to Texas, where the women are a tiny bit nicer than the ones in this hotel room.”

  Trina glanced over her shoulder to find Avery and Lori staring.

  Trina narrowed her eyes, and they both looked away.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Wade told her. “I’m glad your friends are loyal enough to hate me on sight just out of principle.”

  “Misguided as that is.”

  Wade chuckled.

  Heaviness sat in the back of Trina’s throat.

  Wade stood before her, suitcase at his side, cowboy hat on his head. Their goodbye felt oddly out of place.

  She tried to smile. “Kinda glad you hit on me in Miami,” she told him.

  His killer smile and flirty eyes took over. “Still bummed you didn’t take me up on my offer.”

  “Bad timing.”

  “I know that, darlin’.”

  She sighed.

  “Well, I’ll get back to my regularly scheduled life and leave you to your friends.”

  Trina rubbed her hands on her pants, not sure if she should shake his hand or hug him.

  Apparently she was the only one unsure of what to do.

  Wade wrapped his arms round her shoulders and pressed his frame against hers in a hug that fueled her soul. When he pulled away, he pressed his lips to her forehead, stood back, and picked up his suitcase.

  “Oh, by the way. The clerk at the phone place said there was a tracking app that was messing things up, and that if you had any problems, you should delete it and reinstall.”

  “Tracking?”

  “Like one of those friend apps you women use to keep track of each other.”

  “Oh, okay, thanks.”

  She walked him a few feet to the door.

  He opened it. “I might have put in my number, in case you wanted to take me up on those dance lessons.”

  Trina saw herself accepting his offer. She placed a hand on his arm, caught his eye. “Thanks, Wade.”

  He winked before turning away.

  His jeans sure did hug his hips well.

  She started to close the door before she heard him say, “You can stop staring at my butt now.”

  Trina laughed. “Vain much?”

  Wade just chuckled as he sauntered out of sight.

  Avery clicked her tongue when Trina walked back into the room. “A country singing cowboy? Really?”

  “He’s a nice guy,” Trina defended.

  Lori lifted her phone and started to read. “‘Wade Thomas, thirty-four years old, and one of the most celebrated country singers of this decade, and how he loves the ladies. It’s said he has broken hearts all over the country and a few places in Europe, as well.’”

  “Gossip magazines. We all know how accurate those are.”

  Lori twisted her phone around. “This was in the Austin Press.”

  “Still sounds like gossip,” Shannon said.

  “Thank you, Shannon. Glad to know someone is on my side.”

  “But most gossip holds some truth,” she added.

  Trina stuck her tongue out.

  “He is very cute, though,” Lori said with the first smile Trina had seen on her since they arrived.

  Trina felt her face heat up. “I kinda like that Texas drawl.”

  “Oh. My. God!” Avery exclaimed. “He’s a musician.”

  “I think you have to call him more than that.” Lori held up her phone. “Sold out concerts, platinum records . . .”

  Avery wanted nothing to do with it. “Every single musician I ever went out with was a total douchebag.”

  “And how many was that?” Trina asked.

  “I couldn’t even tell you. I did the whole groupie thing in college just to tick off the parents, then found myself attracted to a long stream of jerks. They all cheat. They all lie. They hey baby you until you’re out of sight, and then they hey baby someone else. Trust me on this one, Trina, stay clear.”

  “Not to be a total bitch, but didn’t you just describe yourself this last year?” Ever since Trina had met Avery, she hadn’t seen her with the same guy twice.

  “No, they all know I’m free and single. It’s agreeable for all parties involved.”

  “Doesn’t matter anyway. Wade was a weekend companion that didn’t involve one kiss,” Trina told them.

  Lori turned her whole body in Shannon’s direction and her back to Trina. “Funny, but it looked to me like Wade Thomas wanted to lick the cherry right off the top of Trina’s ice cream sundae.”

  Shannon laughed and made eye contact with Trina. “He was salivating.”

  “Y’all are barking up the wrong tree. I’m not interested in Wade Thomas. Or any man right now.”

  The room went silent for several seconds.

  “Y’all?” Avery said slowly.

  “I’m living in Texas, cut me some slack.”

  “Okay, okay . . . let’s get on to the subject that brought us here.” Lori stood and crossed to the small kitchenette. “First Wives Club meeting is called to order. Which means wine.”

  Trina moaned. “I’ll have water.”

  “Fine.” She went through the motions of opening the bottle while talking. “Since we’ve been picking on Trina already, let’s start with you, Shannon.”

  Their normal method of operation during these meetings was to talk about what they were doing, or not doing, in their dating lives. What worked and what didn’t. They also spent a good amount of time discussing what they were doing with the money they’d made from their temporary marriages.

  Shannon accepted the wine and relaxed on the sofa. “I signed a lease for a studio.”

  “That’s fantastic news,” Trina said. “Do you have any clients yet?”

  Shannon had a semisuccessful career as a photographer that she wanted to expand postdivorce. But when she was no longer the first lady of California, she ended up closing her business, since the majority of people requesting her services were members of the press searching for a story. Or worse, the activists and lobbyists of the general population that thought she could plead their cause with her ex-husband.

  “I do. An engagement party and two weddings.”

  “No more lurking jerks walking through the door?” Avery asked.

  “Not yet. I’m sure I won’t escape them forever. But I think the public finally realized I’m no longer Mrs. Paul Wentworth.”

  “What about you?” Lori asked. “Have you realized you’re no longer married to him?”

  Shannon shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Avery tucked her feet under her in the chair she sat on. “So you’re dating, then?”

  Silence.

  Yeah, Trina didn’t see Shannon dating any
one when she had fallen hard for her temporary husband.

  Unfortunately, the feeling hadn’t been mutual.

  “It’s hard to meet men.”

  Avery laughed. “Dating apps, bars, clubs, walking on the beach, Uber drivers, waiters—”

  “Uber drivers, really?” Trina asked.

  Avery answered with a smile.

  “Please, I can’t pick someone up at a bar,” Shannon said.

  “You’re right. You have to actually go into the bar before you can pick someone up,” Lori told her.

  “I go to bars.”

  “The no-host bar at a wedding reception doesn’t count,” Avery exclaimed.

  Shannon didn’t deny Avery’s claim. “Well, dating apps are out.”

  “Yeah, those suck. Half the guys on there aren’t real, anyway.” Trina had tried those things before she married Fedor. It wasn’t her pace.

  “Good for hooking up, but that’s about it,” Avery said.

  “Have you ever considered taking up bowling, or sailing . . . something like that? Something that has tons of testosterone around by default. Football games, anything?”

  “Sports aren’t my thing.”

  “It doesn’t have to be your thing, it has to be their thing.” Avery was like a dog with a bone.

  Shannon passed glances around the room. “Maybe I’ll try sailing. I love the ocean.”

  “Okay, then. That’s a direction, at least.”

  Trina could almost hear Lori tapping a gavel on a desk with her statement.

  “Anything new with you and Reed?” Avery turned her attention to Lori.

  Lori slowly smiled, as if the mere mention of her boyfriend warmed a part of her soul. “He’s a good man. He cooked stir-fry for us last Tuesday.”

  “Reed can cook?” Shannon asked.

  “No. It was awful. Took three days for the soy sauce to leave the back of my throat.”

  Trina chuckled. “So what was good about it?”

  “He wore an apron.”

  They all stared at her.

  “And nothing else.”

  “Ahh, so, sex in the kitchen,” Avery said.

  “Any wedding bells yet?” Trina asked.

  Seemed like every time they all got together, they asked if Reed had hinted at the next step.

  “He is taking me out of town for our anniversary. I think maybe . . .”