Loving Ruby: The Riverstone Series Book 2 - Standalone

by Roya Carmen

  “I apologize. I don’t see it,” she tells us with a perfect megawatt smile—she doesn’t seem sorry at all. “Let me check for a second,” she adds. “Please take a seat.”

  We make our way to the sleek leather banquette lining the wall. Gabe seems irked.

  “It’s probably just a little snafu,” I tell him.

  I spot a couple entering the restaurant, and my attention is instantly drawn to the woman—she’s gorgeous, blond, and all class—tucked into a fitted, cream, contemporary two-piece suit and super high, expensive-looking cream pumps. She seems at ease and completely comfortable. How do some women do that? How do they wear heels that high, suits that tight, and still manage to look comfy and put-together, moving with the grace of ballerinas? She doesn’t notice me staring at her or rather “gawking” might be a more accurate word. I’m glad she’s so self-centered and unaware of her surroundings—she doesn’t see me at all—I could be invisible as far as she’s concerned.

  Then my attention shifts to her date, but I can’t see his face. He’s tall and broad-shouldered and has a fabulous head of hair. Of course, he’s wearing a classy fitted suit. And I want to vomit a little—people like these two make me a bit sick.

  “Check out Barbie and Ken over there,” Gabe whispers in my ear. And I laugh out loud—I can’t help it—he’s been thinking the same thing I have. Barbie turns to look at us, and I offer an apologetic smile. Ken doesn’t bother turning around.

  “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Hanson,” the hostess offers, her attention fully devoted to them. “How are you?” she asks in that fake-ish way people do. I get the sense that Ken and Barbie have been here on a regular basis—it’s probably just a regular night for them, not a special once-a-year date night, like it is for Gabe and me.

  “Table for two?” she asks. And I wonder what the hell happened to us—what about our table lady?

  Gabe takes my hand in his and smiles at me. “You look nice,” he says. He’s said it already earlier tonight, but I don’t mind. And I don’t mind sitting on this comfy banquette with him for a little while.

  “Table for four actually,” Barbie says. “We’re expecting friends.”

  “Yes, of course,” snooty hostess replies. “I do have a table for you. But it isn’t quite ready yet,” she offers apologetically. “It’ll just take a moment.”

  “That’s fine,” Barbie says as she and Ken turn toward us. And I see his face. And he’s gorgeous—of course. Of course he’s gorgeous—he’s exactly what I expected.

  We instinctively slide over to the far edge of the banquette to make room for them. And for some reason, I don’t smile at them. In such circumstances, I would usually smile politely, as most people would, but I kind of hate these people—they seem a little smug. And they have a table waiting for them, which we apparently don’t.

  Gabe leans back and stares up at the ceiling. “I bet we’ll be sitting here for a while.” He’s already losing his cool.

  Barbie smiles warmly at Gabe, and he smiles back—of course he would—she’s gorgeous. Ken doesn’t smile at either of us—apparently he’s not interested in idle chit-chat. Good…we’re on the same page.

  “How are you?” Barbie asks us with a flawless smile, her lips a soft coral, her teeth perfect and gleaming white.

  “Good,” Gabe says. “How ’bout yourself?”

  “Great. Thank you.”

  Of course she’s great—she has a table.

  “It seems real busy tonight,” Gabe offers. He’s always been good at small talk and meeting new people—I envy that about him. He’s a lot more outgoing than I am.

  “It’s always busy,” Barbie points out. “Have you been waiting for a while?”

  “Not too long,” I offer, awkwardly planting myself into the conversation—yes, my gorgeous husband has a wife, lady. I don’t really know why I’m being so possessive—I’m a little threatened I suppose—the woman does look like a supermodel, and it’s not every day your husband has a conversation with a supermodel.

  I catch Ken’s eye, and he quickly averts his gaze. He strikes me as a little odd, the strong silent type. I don’t think he’s said a single word so far. I find myself checking him out—hey, if she can chat up my husband, I can at least sneak a peek at hers. He’s truly beautiful in the classic sense—chiseled features, olive skin, dark hair, not a strand out of place—he’s as sleek and put-together as his wife. He seems very conservative, but I like his flashy purple shirt and tie. He turns to look at me, and I instinctively turn away and feel myself blush a little.

  His phones rings—a traditional ring tone, nothing fun. He answers promptly, his voice quieter and softer than I would have imagined. I look away and pretend not to listen, but in fact, I’m straining to hear every word.

  “Hi, Simon. What is it?”

  A long pause of silence—no one speaks. Barbie seems curious too.

  He rolls his eyes, and then he smiles. He has a nice wide smile—the kind of smile you see on people who seem to have more teeth than the average human. “Seriously?” he says. “Well, I’m not surprised, Simon,” he adds, shaking his head. “I’ve known you too long.”

  “What is it, Weston?” Barbie asks, very curious. So Ken’s name is Weston—I think I like that better.

  He smiles at his wife but doesn’t answer. “It’s not a problem, Simon. Don’t worry. We’ll do it another time.”

  “We’ll talk later,” he finally says before hanging up.

  Barbie, who is apparently not a complete idiot, has deduced the obvious. “They’re not coming?”

  “Nope,” he says plainly, his voice soft. “Apparently, Jennifer has sprained her ankle and insisted on going to the emergency room.”

  Barbie laughs. “She’s such a fashionista. She probably did it in those ridiculously high heels she wears.”

  I glance down at Barbie’s pumps, which must have a least a four or five inch heel. Do shoes get higher than that?

  The hostess, who had stepped away, walks back to her podium. “I’m sorry Mr. Keates. I have no record of a reservation in your name.”

  “What!” Gabe snaps, standing. “But I made a reservation,” he tells her, his mouth a hard line. He’s peeved and desperately trying to contain himself. “I called a few days ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” the hostess replies—she seems flustered as well. “But there’s no indication on my system.”

  He rakes a hand through his unruly hair. “Well, do you have anything available?” All eyes and ears are on him now, and the situation feels slightly awkward. I look away, mildly mortified. I bet this never happens to Barbie and Ken…Barbie and Weston.

  “I’m sorry,” the hostess says, straight-faced. She seems a little irked now.

  Damn, we don’t need this. We don’t have time for this. We have a show to catch, and we don’t have time to scout for another restaurant—all the restaurants in the area are probably just as packed.

  “Well, you seem like a very capable woman,” Gabe offers, turning on the charm. “I’m sure you can work something out for us.”

  “I’m sorry,” she almost sneers. “There is absolutely nothing I can do.”

  God…there is no thawing this ice queen. And I suddenly hate her, and I hate this pompous, pretentious restaurant too.

  Barbie jumps to her stiletto-ed feet, “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do for them?” she asks, her voice silky.

  Okay…so Barbie might not be so bad after all.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hanson,” the hostess insists. “We’re at full capacity.” Her eyes light up as she adds, “But I have good news for you…your table for four is ready.”

  Barbie takes a seat back on the banquette. “I have an idea,” she blurts out. “You nice folks could have dinner with us,” she offers, all smiles.

  Us nice folks? She doesn’t know us. We’ve barely spoken five words. I’m not nice. All I’ve been doing is judging her—and I suddenly feel like a real witch. Barbie’s actually nice. As much as I’d like
to hate this woman, I can’t.

  “Our friends have just cancelled on us, and we have a table for four,” she tells us, but of course, I already knew that from spying on them. “It seems like fate, doesn’t it?” she adds cheerfully.

  “Well…uh…” Gabe says. He seems taken aback. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gabe at a loss for words before.

  “Thank you,” I say nervously—this is a really strange situation. “But I’m sure you don’t want to spend your evening with two strangers.”

  “Nonsense,” she says. “You two really don’t strike me as sociopaths,” she adds with a laugh.

  “Thank you,” I say and instantly feel like an idiot—this conversation is very odd.

  “Well, sociopaths do come in many shapes and sizes,” her husband points out, his voice soft and languid. He’s looking at me. “But regardless…I think we’ll live dangerously and take our chances.”

  And I can’t help but smile—a big genuine smile, and I instinctively bring my hand up to cover it. He smiles back, his gaze staying on me for what seems like the longest time, and I can’t seem to look away.

  My heart does a little flip.

  What the hell has gotten into me?

  Roya Carmen is a book junkie, self-professed chocoholic and hopeless romantic. A graduate of Ryerson University, she worked in Graphic Communications before becoming a stay-at-home mom. She has always loved writing, finding her passion for romance in 2008. She enjoys spending time with her family, camping, playing billiards, and painting. And of course, there is nothing she enjoys more than sitting down at her laptop and making up stories – and if those stories should include beautiful men, a little romance, and a few steamy scenes, all the better!

  Roya lives north of Toronto with her husband and three children.

  I would like to thank my amazing husband and children. Without their support, I would not be able to do this. They are my life.

  I would also like to thank all my amazing readers. Thank you so much for reading all my crazy stories. Many thanks to all those who have shared my books, whether it be by telling a friend, writing a review, or sharing on social media. Thank you to all the wonderful bloggers who have supported The Ground Rules Trilogy and spread the word. Also, thanks to all those who have written reviews. I appreciate each and every single one of them. Word of mouth is key, and without all of you, I wouldn’t be here.

  Thank you to my wonderful Beta readers, Chancy, Melissa and Emily. I can’t thank you enough. Chancy, once again, your extensive feedback made the book so much better!

  Thank you to my editor Cassie Joy, and my proof reader Devon Burke, for making sense of all the typos, ellipses and comma overload, and misuse of common expressions.

  And I’ll always be thankful to Omnific Publishing for publishing The Ground Rules Trilogy and introducing me to this crazy world of indie romance publishing.

  And finally, thank you to all my book friends… you make me smile and inspire me… you know who you are!