Chapter 10
Kate
I looked at the barista, confused. It took me a minute to realize why he’d called after me. I was up next in line. Nothing like a good fight to make the time pass quickly, I supposed.
The young man looked terrified. His eyes were large as they shifted between me, the crowd behind me, and Ian. Then back all over again. He’d clearly seen our situation unfolding, and he was clearly uncomfortable.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered, trying to process what I’d just found out, as well as hopefully fix a little bit of the public embarrassment that I was feeling. I knew I had to snap out of it, though. I was holding up the line. When I glanced back over my shoulder, I saw a shit load of death glares aimed right at me.
I’d never seen a group so angry — especially with me. The person that stood out the most, though, was large in girth as well as height. His tummy was rounded and jiggled a bit as he shifted impatiently from one foot to the next. He was trying to look intimidating, but instead he just looked like an asshole.
I understood his frustration.
“Hurry the fuck up, lady!” the guy yelled, clearly annoyed even more that I was taking the time to look at them all.
“Hey,” Ian said, stepping in front of me defensively. I would have been flattered had he not been the reason I was so flustered to begin with. “Why don’t you shut the hell up and show the lady some respect?”
“It’s fine,” I murmured, just before I slapped at Ian’s bicep. I tried to pretend like I didn’t notice how hard it was, how perfectly defined. Just like I was trying to pretend like whatever was happening, wasn’t actually happening.
I wanted to get out of the spotlight. “I don’t blame him for being mad.”
“Yeah, see, your broad knows you guys are being assholes!” the man said with a mean chuckle, and immediately I rolled my eyes and turned back to face the barista behind the counter.
“We’re being assholes? You’re the one yelling at a lady!” I heard Ian say from behind me. The Starbucks kid’s eyes were wide, and I could tell that he was just ready to go home already. I had to wonder how many altercations he’d seen working here, and whether my stupid argument and hold-up was the worst.
I felt undignified. I was embarrassed beyond belief.
“I’ll just have a coffee,” I said in a whisper, as I looked up at the barista apologetically.
I didn’t even want to bother with my mocha latte anymore. It seemed too complicated to order. I just wanted to get the hell out of the line, and out of the way of the mob behind me.
I was the type of person that preferred to do everything in private. And I had clearly not been having a private discussion. Now, because I’d just been yelling in public, I was flustered. I didn’t know much about my dad’s business, but I did know the name John Cross and I knew what MTS was. I’d heard those names more times than I cared to remember.
From what I could tell, John Cross and Dad had some sort of professional falling out several years ago, and Dad had always accused John of stealing BioResearch’s technology. I just took it as the truth. Why wouldn’t I have? But by the way Ian was acting, I couldn’t help but wonder what really happened—if there wasn’t another side of the story. My dad was good at bending the truth the way he wanted it. I knew that better than anyone.
I felt like I was in a haze as I walked away from the ordering station and toward the other end of the counter.
Ian was still staring at me. He placed his order and came to stand at my side.
“I don’t know what to say to all of this, Ian,” I stammered.
“Well, that makes two of us.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been going over this and over it in my head since yesterday when I realized it. And I don’t think we should see each other again.” His tone was rehearsed, but held a hint of remorse.
I almost started to protest, even though I wasn’t really even sure why. Why would I want to be with a guy who got me into a yelling match in the middle of a public coffee shop? Why would I want to be with a guy who cared about who my dad was more than he cared about me? Still, when I looked up and our eyes locked, something inside me knew I couldn’t simply let him go. I opened my mouth to say something, but he raised a hand to stop me and spoke, his voice louder than before.
“My father would roll over in his grave if he knew I’d spent so much time and energy on a Murphy.”
I felt my cheeks grow red hot. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It doesn't matter what I meant,” he said. “Or what I think or feel. Our relationship can’t fucking go anywhere.”
“Ian, this is ridiculous.” Then I realized what I was doing. I was arguing with someone so unreasonable, he couldn’t overlook a disagreement between our dads and continue to see me. If he couldn’t work this through with me, he’d make a shitty boyfriend. It hurt that I’d misjudged him, but to hell with it. I was through. “You know what? Never mind. Just go.”
Without a word, he turned on his heel and trudged out of the coffee shop.
“Good riddance, sweetheart,” an elderly woman said from behind me. “He’s proof that terrible things come wrapped up in pretty packages.”
“You’re exactly right.” I forced a smile for her benefit. “Good riddance,” I whispered under my breath.