Chapter Sixteen
Brunch was a bad idea. I felt it in my bones. But Tara was determined to go to the diner with or without me and I figured with would be easier to explain. A stranger in town always drew attention. A stranger that looked like her would have tongues wagging. A stranger that looked like her and was attached to Nick and I in some way—especially after yesterday’s fiasco—would send up the bat signal.
She flounced through the door of the Blue Banana all large and in charge, her hair twisted up in a messy bun that looked divine on her and would just look like bedhead on me.
“This place is adorable,” Tara cooed, sinking onto a stool at the bar.
I was surprised at how many people were actually there that early. Some eating breakfast, some hitting up lunch already. It wasn’t even quite ten. I didn’t get it.
“Maybe let’s get a booth,” I said, glancing around at the curious eyes.
“Nah, this is where the action is,” she said, looking like a kid in a candy store.
I laughed, taking the next stool. “I seriously don’t know what kind of action you’re expecting, but—”
“Look who dares to show up here after that spectacle yesterday,” came a voice I’d learned to cringe over in a very short time.
I turned to see Katrina Bowman standing behind me, one neon-pink nailed hand propped on her overly pronounced hip, the other clutching a bag I wouldn’t be able to afford if I saved for a year. Did she never eat at home?
“Move on, Katrina,” I said, turning back. I was so acutely aware of Tara’s questioning gaze I could feel my blood rising to the surface.
“Move on?” Katrina barked. “After what you and your so-called husband did yesterday?”
I frowned and swung my stool back around. “What we did?” I hurled. Dial it back. Dial it back. “Let’s replay, shall we?” I wasn’t dialing it back. “Whose husband kissed who? Whose husband can’t keep his slimy little hands to himself? Nick was just reminding Alan that I’m not a free-for-all.”
She stepped forward, the challenge sparking in her overly lined eyes. “Who can’t keep her tits under wraps?”
I stood up, nearly nose to nose with her. “You started that one, chica, when you invited my husband in the house for a little slap and tickle.”
“Oh, and he loved that tickle too,” she said under her breath, an angry smile warping her expression. “Did he tell you about it?”
“Enough,” said a male voice harshly behind me, making Tara and I both jump. “You know damn good and well I rejected your pathetic ass, Mrs. Bowman. You and your husband both need a lesson in boundaries.”
My head and face were so hot I had to be glowing, and my heartbeat in my ears was deafening. Tara’s eyes were huge as she looked from Nick to me.
“Yeah well your little lesson is going to cost you our dental bills,” Katrina spat. “You knocked two teeth loose.”
“He was charging me,” Nick said. “Like a wild animal. He’s lucky that’s all that got knocked loose.”
“Okay,” Allie said as she walked up behind Nick. “Let’s all go to our corners, shall we?” She patted Nick’s shoulder. “I believe you have an order or two back there. Mrs. Bowman--”
“He insulted me,” Katrina said. “Your employee insulted a customer. I want him fired.”
“Mrs. Bowman,” Allie repeated slowly. “As I was saying, there are plenty of empty tables on the other side. Why don’t you find one?”
Katrina scoffed and adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “I spend a ton of money here every week, but if you won’t respect a paying customer, then I’ll bring my business elsewhere.”
Allie nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s your choice.”
Huffing, Katrina turned on her heel and marched out, and Nick’s jaw set as his eyes glazed over and he walked back to the kitchen without a word or a look to us.
Conversations started back up around us, making me realize how quiet it had gotten. I sat back down on my stool and stared unseeingly at the menu.
“Boring and no action, huh?” Tara said, perusing hers.
My ears felt like they might self-ignite.
“Usually.”
Allie came back with a towel on her arm and two glasses of ice water.
“I’m sorry about that, y’all.”
I gave her a what-the-hell look. “Allie, I’m sorry. She did all that because of me and Nick. You didn’t have to do what you did.”
Allie waved a hand toward the wake Katrina left behind. “The Bowmans are blowhard assholes.”
“Blowhard assholes with major cash flow,” I said.
She leaned forward. “I do just fine, don’t worry about it. Your husband makes sure the whole town keeps coming back.”
Allie took our orders and walked off, and Tara stayed unusually quiet. I sucked down my water like it was the last I’d ever get as I tried to cool my blood. The silence was eventually more than I could stand, and I grabbed a nearby cardboard coaster to have something in my hands.
“Still think small towns are quaint and cute?” I said.
She shrugged. “I guess you’re right. Everyone knows everything you do, even the stuff you try to hide.”
Nick’s words about not trusting Tara rang in my ears. How she’d sell us out if it worked for her agenda.
“Yep. Pretty much,” I said.
“This deal with you and Nick,” she said, finally looking at me. “It’s not pretend anymore, is it?”
Words left me. Thoughts crashed and tumbled against each other. I was barely coming to terms with that myself, much less being able to talk to his ex about it. She wasn’t to be trusted. But she was too smart to accept a lie too.
I stared at the printed ads on the coaster, not seeing the words.
“No,” I said finally. “Or at least not fully. It’s—complicated. We don’t even talk about it.”
“Oh I get that,” she said. “Nick’s not a talker. He’s not big on feelings, either.”
“And neither am I, which made this perfect!” I said. “No strings, no ties. And yet somewhere along the way--”
“Things got tied?”
I blew out a breath, willing myself to shut up. “A little bit.”
“You fell in love with him.”
“I—what?” I said, nearly choking on my water. “What? No! No!”
“That’s what you said,” she said.
“No I didn’t,” I countered. “I can assure you that I most definitely did not say that. I said it got complicated, or different or something. I mean living, with someone day in and day out makes lines blurry after a while, that’s all.”
She gave me a long look and then smiled as our food landed in front of us.
“He’s easy to love, Lanie,” she said, buttering a tall stack of pancakes and reaching for the syrup and the local raw honey provided on the side. “And hard to get over. Be careful.”
I laughed uncomfortably, looking at my eggs and bacon that he’d cooked for me and losing my appetite completely.
“It’s not like that,” I said. “I told you, it’s just—maybe a step above just friends.”
“Uh-huh, and I’m guessing that woman’s husband kissed you, and Nick punched him for it?” she said, licking syrup from her fingers.
She was too observant.
“How are those pancakes drenched in butter and syrup living a healthy lifestyle?” I asked, needing a diversion.
“Pffft, I made that shit up,” she said, fluttering her fingers. “I started running, and as long as I keep doing that I can eat whatever the hell I want.”
“You’re lucky,” I said. “If I ate that, I might as well glue them to my thighs.”
“Then you wouldn’t get the joy of this,” she said, taking my fork and stabbing a steaming dripping forkful of pancakes and shoving them into my mouth. “You don’t pass up Nick’s pancakes.”
“Ohmehgrrdd,” I mumbled around the lightest, fluffiest most amazing buttermilk pancakes I’d ever tasted.
“Yep.”
I glanced sideways at her. “Okay since we’re doing true confessions, it’s your turn.”
She chuckled. “No thanks.”
“Only fair.”
“I don’t play fair, didn’t he tell you that?”
I met her eyes. “Yes he did. But for some reason I think you will with me.”
Tara blinked a couple of times and went back to her food. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I’m still in love with the man you’re married to,” she said. “But I always will be. He was my first love, my everything. And I’m just not good at that.”
What did I say to that? What possible words on this earth were an appropriate response for that?
“But I know we aren’t good for each other,” she said, a frown creasing the skin over her nose. “And I will deny ever saying that if you repeat it, but I’m admitting it to you. We had our time, and now—now we are just parents.”
“You didn’t come here because you’re parents together,” I said. “Come on.”
“No, I came here because I’m me and I’m twisted and I needed to see what had my Nick so distracted,” she said. “You know, that one step above friends thing you swear by?” She winked at me. But honestly, I just want to see him happy.”
“And why are you telling me this?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” she said. “Are you a witch or something?”
No, but I do have an Aunt Ruby in my pocket. “I must just be easy to talk to.”.
“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe finding out that the new Mrs. McKane isn’t out to screw him over, but actually has his best interests in mind puts my manipulative little heart at ease.” She leaned sideways. “I’m not the total self-centered privileged bitch he makes me out to be.”
Tara definitely had more substance than Nick made out, but I still felt I had to be wary. Their daughter didn’t trust her either, and that had to mean something, right?
“Just be good to him,” she said, mopping up the last of her pancakes while I was still stabbing around at my eggs. I did eat the bacon. Because—bacon. “He deserves someone like you. That will put him first and defend him to the end. That will love him without all the baggage we have weighing things down.”
I shook my head. “It’s not—”
“Not like that, I know,” Tara said with a small grin. “I hear you.”
* * *
The next day at work was an exercise in squirrel tactics. As in my every thought was a new one. I couldn’t focus to save my life; I gave one man back the check he was cashing along with the cash, I put money into the wrong account of another man, and while counting out a thousand dollars, I nearly gave one woman an extra six hundred dollars.
I was toast. I hadn’t slept well again, thank you Nick and now thank you Tara too. Her words kept circling me like buzzards. In fact I think the buzzards were laughing at me when I did doze off. Laughing and pointing and telling me that I would never get laid with my clothes on and when I told them I’d take them off when the time came they all flew off because I didn’t know how to say I love you.
Now seriously, what kind of jacked-up shit was that?
Buzzards, no less.
When I parked myself in the break room for lunch, my phone rang. With what I’d come to recognize as a California area code. After grabbing my turkey sandwich and Coke, I scurried out the back door to the smoke break chair. Luckily, it was vacant.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Lanie Barrett?” a female voice asked. A different one.
McKane.
“Yes, can I help you?” I asked.
“Well, this is Nancy Tanner from Cali Dynamics,” she said. “Is this a good time to talk?
I chuckled. “As good a time as any.”
“Good, good,” Nancy said. “Well, I’m happy to tell you that you’ve been chosen for the ad copy block. Congratulations!”
I got the job.
Chills went on top of goose bumps. I got the damn job. Oh my God.
Oh my God.
What the hell did I do now?
“Oh my goodness, wow!” I said, tossing the sandwich into the nearby garbage. Eating was suddenly the furthest thing from my mind. “Thank you!”
“You’re very welcome,” Nancy said. “Now should you choose to accept the position, we can arrange to take care of the paperwork online until you can get here.”
“Um,” I said, feeling the panic rise in my throat. “How long do I have? Before the job starts, I mean?”
“Well, we like to get people here as soon as possible.”.
“Because I’m on a very important project right now,” I said. “Kind of hush-hush. And as I mentioned in the phone interview, I won’t be able to leave for two more months.”
There was a pause. “That’s quite an extended wait.”
“I know,” I said. “In fact, I really thought it lost me the position when I told them about it. I could totally understand if that is a deal breaker.”
“No, it’s not,” she said. “It’s actually in the notes in your file.” I had a file. “We were just hoping that perhaps the situation had changed since then.”
I closed my eyes. “No, unfortunately not.”
“Well then, that’s that,” Nancy said. “I’ll pop this paperwork over to the e-mail address you listed on your application, and you can look it over. It includes all the pertinent information regarding salary, benefits, job duties, and so forth. If it suits you, and you’re still interested in becoming part of the Cali Dynamic team, my number will be on the e-mail. We’ll get you set up for whatever date you need.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “Thank you for calling me.”
I hung up and sat there, wondering who decided when life got to be so smart aleck and cold. When a month ago, I would be dancing out the door that very day, now I just sat in stunned silence. Because one, Aunt Ruby’s house. And two, the fact that there was a number two. Nick. He wasn’t supposed to figure in, but it sure as hell felt like he did.
I stayed out there, sipping my Coke till a smoker came out, needing a fix.
When I forgot how to log back into my machine after lunch, my boss came and suggested I take a half day and go home and take some aspirin and go to bed.
I almost hugged her. And when I couldn’t stop rambling and told her that I had so much on my mind—old stuff, new stuff, random stuff—she said to look at what I thought of first thing each morning and my last thoughts every night, and throw everything else away. All the rest was just noise, but those two things were worth diving off a cliff for.
So as I thanked her for her wisdom and walked out the back door of the bank, I thought about what my two things would be. It wasn’t the job. It wasn’t any of my jobs. What did I wake up thinking about? Where did I go every night as I closed my eyes?
Goose bumps covered my whole body.
I couldn’t get to my car fast enough.
* * *
I wasn’t even bothered by the extra car in the driveway. Tara was okay. She was more than okay, actually. She was the one to show me my feelings, and essentially tell me it was okay to feel them. That giving a shit was a good thing. Okay, she didn’t actually say that, that was my interjection, but she insinuated it.
I could thank her. If I were a writer, I’d put her in the acknowledgments. As it was, maybe I’d just send her a three-month supply of honey. It would make her feel all homey and remember the gooey moments.
Nick had made her out to be such a bitch. And in truth that was more show than reality. Then again, I also hadn’t lived with her or tried to raise a child with her, so probably my sense of reality was slightly skewed.
My heart skittered in my chest as the thought of looking Nick in the eye and saying what I needed to say swirled around me. That face, those eyes, the slow lazy smile that warmed my thoughts every morning and wrapped me up safely at night.
I needed to find him, to touch him, to say the words before I chickened out. A glimpse of movement outside the back patio doors caught my attention and I headed that way, my heart speeding up to double time. Breathe. Having a heart attack in the middle of a monumental moment wasn’t sexy.
Then there he was, smiling, talking to Tara, but that was okay. She’d see my face and know, and make herself scarce. As I reached the window-paned doors and touched the knob, however, my nerves up in my throat, something wasn’t right. Tara’s hands went up to his face, his came up to hold her head, and—no.
No.
I froze in that spot as Nick kissed her.
The sound of my heartbeat was overtaken by the sound of my breaths. I could hear them one by one, proof that I was still alive in a body that had gone numb.
It wasn’t a sexual passionate kiss, but I’d kissed him enough now to recognize intimacy. The lingering of mouths, the touching of faces, the—oh my God, the thing I was going to say.
I was so stupid.
I’d done it. I’d gone there. The thing I swore I’d never do, never say, never act upon because it turned sane people into idiots. I’d channeled my weak mother and done it. I felt the hot tears trekking down my cheeks before I registered that I was crying.
I was crying. Over—sweet Jesus, I was pathetic too. A little squeak escaped my throat and the knob made a metallic sound as I removed my hand and backed up a step.
Nick looked up. He looked up from kissing his ex-wife, his first love, the love of his life, the woman who played me like a needy fucking fiddle. He looked up, her head still in his hands, the perfect hair spilling over his fingers, and looked at me.
“Lanie.”
I couldn’t hear it, but I saw my name on his lips. The lips he’d just kissed her with. His eyes registered alarm in the last second before I turned and walked away. I didn’t care. Let him be alarmed. Let them both burn in hell. They deserved each other.
Blindly, tears distorting my vision blink after blink, I made it to the door and out into the sunshine. Stumbling down the steps, I skipped the car and just kept walking. Circling around the property, I headed down the rock path. I needed clarity. I needed home.
My name was being yelled in the background but that was meaningless. That went with the guy that made the girl a stupid fawning give-a-shit-way-too-much idiot. I was even about to turn down the perfect job for him. I’d become my mother, minus the booze and the pain pills. And something mentally slapped me upside the head on that thought and said that was overkill, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I wasn’t thinking straight because I’d let myself believe—just for a minute—that the thing I’d avoided my whole life could maybe be for me after all.
“Lanie!” he called out from the house. I was most of the way hidden into the path, protected by the trees, but he might know me well enough to—fuck that. He knew nothing.
Keep walking. I blinked new tears free as the image of them holding each other stabbed at me repeatedly.
“Lanie!”
He was closer. Damn it, he figured it out. He must be jogging. Maybe she donned her cute little blue sweatband real quick and came with him.
“Go home, Nick,” I called out, passing the old fireplace, needing the soothing trickle of the water over the pebbles. Home. How fucking ironic. “Go back to my home, actually, and tell your woman to get her lying, conniving fucking ass out of my house, and then I don’t give a shit what you do.” The irony of those particular words was not lost on me. Even in my churned up state. “Go, stay. Do whatever the hell you want to do as long as I don’t have to see—”
“Stop,” he said, swinging me around by the arm.
“Don’t touch me,” I said, yanking my arm free.
He stepped back when he saw my face. “You’re crying.”
“Gold star,” I said, swiping angrily at my face.
“Lanie.”
“Your woman is waiting,” I said. “Get her out of there before—”
“My what?”
“Don’t insult me, Nick,” I muttered, turning on my heel.
“My—” He stopped when I took up speed-walking again, and took three long strides to cut me off. “Excuse me. My woman?”
“I didn’t stutter.”
I was trembling like a leaf, though. He shook his head like I wore him out. Really?
“My woman is the crazy chick I’m chasing down right now,” he said. “The one that drives me fucking mad and makes me laugh and want to pull my hair out all at once. The one I can’t figure out to save my life. Who’ll do anything to save an old house but nothing to save herself. My woman is the one I’m supposed to be faking it with, and yet I’m at a loss for what to do because there’s nothing fake about it anymore.”
Good words. Excellent words, actually, but they didn’t take away the visual I’d seen. Nothing could purge that intimacy from my brain.
“Stop,” I choked.
“Because she’s the one who I can’t wait to tell a funny story to, or see at the end of the day,” he continued. “And then I do see her and my first thought is She’s mine, and then my second thought is Wait, what the fuck? And then damn if my third thought isn’t God, yes. She’s really mine.”
He stopped and took a long breath, locking his gaze in on me with something I understood too well. Fear.
“I love you, Lanie McKane.”