Page 36 of Let It Breathe
Clay swung his eyes back to Patrick. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Did you hear a word I just said?”
“Um—”
“That’s okay,” Patrick said with a laugh. “Those girls are beautiful, that’s for damn sure.”
“Girls?” Clay asked, confused by the plural. He looked back at the doorway and noticed Reese wasn’t alone. “Oh. Larissa. I didn’t see her.”
“You know them?”
“Old friends from a past life,” Clay said. “Want me to introduce you?”
“Nah, that’s okay. Looks like they might be heading into the bar.”
Clay nodded. “Right. And you probably want to maintain some privacy with the whole AA thing.”
“Not really an issue for me,” Patrick said, leaning back against the bench seat. “Everyone in town knows I’m in recovery. I try to tell as many people as possible, just to get the word out I’m available to help. If you know anyone else who needs me, feel free to pass my card along.”
“I appreciate that,” Clay said, trying not to make it too obvious he was sneaking glimpses at Reese. She hadn’t seen him yet, which gave him a chance to watch her from afar, studying the way her hair moved, the way those green eyes flitted around the room.
Patrick cleared his throat. “Speaking of girls, have you dated much since you got sober?”
Clay shrugged and folded his hands on the Formica table. “A few dates here and there. Nothing serious.”
“In four years? That’s a long time.”
Clay shrugged. “I’ve been busy with work, busy getting my life back together, busy attending meetings. You know how it is.”
Busy fantasizing about my best friend’s ex-wife, he didn’t add.
“I took it pretty slow myself. You’ll figure it out.”
Clay nodded and took a sip of his Coke as he stole another look at Reese. She still hadn’t seen him. In fact, she didn’t seem to know anyone was watching her. He gazed in fascination as she lifted her hand, hesitated, and glanced around. Then she stuck her hand down the front of her shirt.
Clay choked on his drink.
He was still choking as he forced himself to turn back to Patrick, trying not to look back at Reese and whatever the hell she was doing with her hand in her shirt.
“I’ll figure it out,” Clay said, his voice strained. “You’re right about that.”
“It does get easier. Never easy, but easier.”
“That’s what I keep hearing.”
“Well, Clay—it’s been really great getting to know you. I’ll see you at the next meeting?”
“Looking forward to it. Thanks, Patrick—I really appreciate it.”
“No sweat. Call anytime you need me. And keep on keepin’ on, man.”
“You, too.”
They shook hands, and Patrick stood up. The second he walked out the door, Clay scanned the restaurant again for Reese. Dammit, where had she gone? And why did he care?
He spotted her then, seated in the bar where he’d been extra cautious not to go. He studied her, still a little awestruck at her appearance. She occupied a booth with Larissa, Eric, Sheila, and some guy who was staring down the front of Reese’s shirt so intently Clay wondered if she had a television broadcasting the NBA finals hidden away in there.
A waitress appeared at Clay’s table and he tore his eyes away from Reese to watch the perky blonde deposit his check on the table with a little smiley face drawn at the top.
