Jericho ~ Present
“I CAN’T THANK YOU ENOUGH, man,” Jackson said happily. “Tonight is perfect.”
Hector, our team, and I had worked all day to make sure everything would go seamlessly for Jackson and Millie’s engagement dinner. Not only was it nerve-racking because he was a good friend and I didn’t want to disappoint, but Millie and her sisters did this kind of thing for a living, and I wanted to help take some of the pressure off. Also, I’d be lying if I didn’t add that I wanted to impress Natasha.
Hector had been a little concerned about closing down and losing two meals’ worth of profits, but he was nothing if not a committed and loyal friend, and knew how much it meant to me to do this for Jackson.
Plus, things with Prime Rib were going so well, that the loss wouldn’t do too much damage to our bottom line, and if it did, I’d cover it.
“I’m so happy you’re enjoying yourself,” I replied, clapping him on the back as we looked out over the dining room.
The party was in full swing. Dinner had been served and the guests were enjoying their after-dinner drinks in preparation for dessert.
“It’s so nice having the space to have everyone together to help us celebrate. I can’t tell you how much it means to me, to us, that you’d do this, Jericho.”
“My pleasure, truly,” I replied. “Anything to contribute to your happy day.”
“Uh oh, I’d better go save Millie from Principle Wiggins,” Jackson said, grinning at me over his shoulder as he walked off to save his fiancée.
“Jericho?” a female voice asked from behind me. I turned my head to see a tall, red-haired woman in a stylish suit standing behind me, her finger tapping nervously on her wine glass. “Jericho Smythe?”
“Yes,” I replied, turning and offering my hand. “And, you are?”
The pretty lady took my hand and said, “I’m Belinda, Amelia Milstead’s daughter. My mother said that she spoke with you the other day . . .”
It took me a minute, but then I remembered the morning in Three Sisters when I’d thought Natasha was on a date and had agreed to call Mrs. Milstead’s daughter and ask her out. I’d completely forgotten all about it.
“Oh, Belinda, of course, how nice to meet you,” I managed, wondering how I was going to get out of this without any hurt feelings. It wasn’t that she wasn’t lovely, she was, she just wasn’t Natasha. “Are you having a good evening?”
“Yes,” she said with a nervous laugh. “It’s a great party. I’ll have to keep Prime Beef in mind for my next event.”
“Well, dinner parties we can manage,” I said with a gentle smile, “but shutting down the restaurant is a once-in-a-lifetime event. My chef would throttle me if I tried to make it a regular occurrence.”
Belinda made a humming noise in the back of her throat, then cleared it and began, “So, my mother . . .”
Knowing I needed to clear up the confusion I’d caused, I stopped her.
“Look, Belinda, I’m sure you’re a great person, and lord knows, you’re a beautiful woman, but . . .”
“But?” she asked, her expression conveying her disappointment.
“I’m afraid I’m not dating at the moment, and have no plans to in the future. I’m sorry that I told your mother that I’d call and ask you out, she kind of took me by surprise while I was in the middle of something, and I answered without thinking.”
Belinda sighed.
“That sounds like my mom. I’m sorry if she’s been bothering you, she’s been on a mission for grandchildren for the last few years, and I’m afraid no eligible bachelors are safe. I appreciate you letting me know,” she said, and began to turn away.
“Hey,” I said, and she paused. “Don’t worry about your mom; she’s a great lady, no harm done. And, if you’re ever in need of a friend . . .”
“Thanks,” she replied, then walked away.
I turned back, thinking I’d better go check on Hector and make sure he wasn’t planning my demise, and almost bumped into Natasha.
“Hey,” I greeted, smiling in spite of myself.
She looked gorgeous, with her hair done in spunky curls, and her makeup smoky. I would have liked nothing more than to kiss the red off of her lips and divulge her of the sexy red dress she was wearing, but didn’t think she was quite ready for that yet.
“You should take her out,” Natasha said, and I didn’t immediately understand what she was saying. Then she clarified, “Belinda. You should go out with her.”
“I don’t want to go out with Belinda,” I replied, suddenly feeling a lot less happy.
“Well, you should. We’ve cleared the air and can finally put the past behind us and move on . . . Not that I’m saying you haven’t moved on, I’m sure you have, multiple times, but I’m saying that you don’t have to worry about my reaction. Or not date for my sake. We’re both living here, and that’s not going to change, you should get on with your life and take her, or someone else, out.”
With each word out of her mouth, I grew more and more pissed off.
“You know, Tasha, I don’t need you telling me who I should or shouldn’t date. If I wanted to take Belinda out, I would, I don’t need your permission. I also don’t need you telling me how, when, or how many times I’ve moved on. You don’t know anything about the last few years of my life, or where I am in it now, so I’d appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself.”
With that, I moved around her and walked away, trying to keep an easygoing smile on my face as I moved through the dining room, when inside I was seething.
Before I went in the back, I swung around to see if Natasha was still standing where I’d left her, a few seconds giving me enough clarity to worry that I’d overreacted, but she was already gone.