Page 86 of Insincerely Yours
I’ve never seen him go back for second helpings, but I have an aching suspicion his renewed interest in Vanessa has everything to do with me and our encounter at Castelli’s earlier.
Based on Luke’s reaction, it’s clear he knows something has happened between them. The guy looks ready to jump over the table, tackle the asshole, and beat his face into a pulp, and it takes everything in me not to start chanting, “Do it, do it!”
Sadly, Luke manages to stay in his seat after Vanessa whispers something to him, allowing Trent to walk out. However, his composure slips a few minutes later when her cell vibrates with an incoming text.
It’s not like I’m trying to be nosy. She tips her phone screen away from Luke, inadvertently showing it to me. Trent’s name is at the top of the screen with the message,“Can’t wait to taste you again,”accompanied by a picture of my sister that I never, ever wanted to see!
Thankfully, the snapshot only shows her from the waist up, but she’s lying down and not wearing anything! Luke doesn’t miss the look on her face (or mine) and tries to snatch the phone away. Vanessa yanks it out of his reach, almost hitting me in the process as she shoots up to her feet and excuses herself for the restroom.
Is everybody blind or just that clueless here? Because nobody else at the table seems to be paying attention—not to her previous behavior, not to her abrupt exit, and not to Luke looking five seconds away from turning green and Hulking out. He stays in his seat for a whole thirty seconds, clearly trying to calm down enough to politely excuse himself as well. It’s not terribly convincing, yet no one still seems to notice except Lauren and me.
When Dad and Derek make it back to our table a few minutes later, I’ve reached my breaking point as well.
Why?you might ask.
Between Jase and Patrick and then Trent, I want to run out of here screaming, and any smidgeon of joy I had from Wes’s dinner invitation gets popped like a lead balloon when Blythe’s friends tell my dad and brother all about how I know one of the illustrious Holbrookes. Again, I have no idea what that means, but it seems like a pretty big deal in their circles.
You’d think me being asked out to dinner by someone of this stature would have Blythe putting this in the “Win” column for the family, but she just can’t resist herself. I’m too far away to hear what she whispers to my dad, but I can still read her lips quite clearly as they form the words, “just being polite.”
I don’t mean to, but I jerk back my seat just enough to make a sharp, scratching sound against the floor, finally earning everyone’s attention.
Crap.
I make the same excuse as my sister, asking Derek to order me a cheeseburger and another Coke before exiting the restaurant. Everybody’s still picking at the appetizers, so by the time they all decide on what to order, I’ll have at least a half hour to kill. Enough time to calm down and get a hold of my shit.
I consider hiding out in the same place as last time, but with my luck, that’s where Jase took Patrick and the mystery woman, and I have no desire to walk in on their little threesome. Ducking into the bathroom would normally be a good option, but I spot Vanessa and Luke at the end of the hallway, right in front of the door. My sister’s back is to me, so I can’t gauge her reaction, but Luke doesn’t look like a happy camper. He isn’t yelling or getting into her face, but his expression says enough. He looks like he’s ready to tear off a certain someone’s head, and the fact he’s actuallywhisperingonly makes the expression more unsettling.
Vanessa has more than enough space to walk around him or turn back down the hall, but she does neither. Her shoulders are slumped, and she has her arms crossed, looking more and more like she’s trying to hug herself the more he speaks.
I’m tempted to go over and ask if she’s okay—give her an out if she needs one—but I can already picture how that would go. The second she’d see me approach, her walls would shoot up a hundred feet high, and she’d bite off my head for butting into her business.
This leaves me with no choice but to wander aimlessly, looking for a dark corner I can disappear into. The reading nook that had been next to the fitness center when I was younger has since been renovated and added to the spa facilities, and the cigar lounge is filling up with guys fresh off the golf course. Moseying around the turn into the next corridor, I freeze at the sight of Jase and Patrick emerging from one of the parlors. Jase is grinning like the Cheshire Cat, but Patrick looks…
Well, I’m not entirely sure.
If he were a normal person, I’d think he just saw a dead body, his tanned complexion now pallid, almost gray. Jase pats him on the shoulder and pulls him into a sideways hug, whispering something that has Patrick’s eyes narrowing.
Before either can spot me, I bolt through the nearest door…
…which takes me outside.
I don’t care. I need space.
Lots of it.
And you don’t get much roomier than outside.
I couldn’t care less about the humidity right now, but walking through a garden now swarming with bees (that I happen to be highly allergic to)? Yeah, not my smartest move. I try not to bring too much attention to myself, but my perfume, though subtle, seems to be attracting them, forcing me into a high-heeled attempt at a run.
Only once I reach the café on the other side of the garden do I slow down, relieved to find no one on the patio. The sun is about an hour and a half from setting, so with it shining directly on the site, it’s undoubtedly hot. But more importantly, it’s quiet. I go to the far side and lean on the stone railing, where a tree provides just about the only shade I can find.
The view overlooks part of the golf course to my left and the river to my right. The railing I’m on is the same one that runs along the entire facade of the building, but despite both overlooking the river, I can’t see the section where Jase pulled me back to safety last week.
I can still see the falls in the distance, and the memory is enough to turn my stomach.
Just drown it all out.
Going over to the nearest chair, I plop down on it and shut my eyes. The constant buzz of cicadas and the distant rushing waters of the river play as my soundtrack, lulling me into something vaguely resembling calm—
