Page 99 of Betting on the Bad Boy
Cheryl shook her head and raised her eyes to meet mine. “I wanted to come tell you in person.”
“Tell me what?”
She put a hand on my arm. “It’s Meemaw.”
“What about her?”
She drew in a jagged breath and looked away. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”
I clenched my jaw. Through gritted teeth, I asked, “What about Meemaw?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “She didn’t suffer, Dante. It happened so fast. There was nothing we could do to save her.”
I stood shock-still. No. This had to be a mistake. I’d just talked to her earlier this afternoon. She’d been on a tirade about the spring flower show at the senior center. I collapsed into a chair and cradled my head in my hands. “No.”
Cheryl walked around behind me and put her hands on my shoulders. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you in person. I wouldn’t let them just call you with the news.”
“She’s gone?” I squeezed my eyes shut tight, waiting for her to confirm the news. I needed to hear her say it.
“She had an aneurysm. It burst. There was nothing anyone could do. She didn’t feel any pain.” Cheryl turned my body to face hers.
As my tears started to fall, I rubbed at my eyes. Cheryl tried to put her arms around me, but I turned away. “I can’t believe it.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. Do you want to head home tonight? They’re waiting for you. You can still see her and say goodbye.”
I yanked off my glasses and wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. My voice husky from the raw emotion, I replied, “Yeah, just let me throw some stuff in a bag.”
It couldn’t be real. Still, I got up from the table and felt around for the duffel bag under the bed. Without a conscious thought about what I’d need, I swept a random assortment of clothes from the shelves and tossed it all into the bag, then made my way to the bathroom. I grabbed my toothbrush and a couple of other toiletries, then zipped up the bag and threw it over my shoulder.
Cheryl stood by the front door. “Ready? I can drive you back if you want. I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
“Yeah, sure. Just let me stop in at the bar and let them know where I’m going.”
I held the door open for her, and we stepped out onto the stoop. With my pulse racing, I turned and locked the door. Cheryl hooked her arm through mine as we made our way down the steps. At the bottom, she drew me into a hug.
“I’m so sorry, Dante. I’ll go get the car.” She took my duffel and slung the strap over her shoulder as I went into the bar.
Inside, I found Wyatt wiping down the counter. He looked up as I approached. “Everything okay?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve got to head out. Meemaw passed away.”
Wyatt’s face fell. “Oh, man. I’m really sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”
“Yeah, just hold down the fort. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
“Take all the time you need, Dante. We’ll manage here.”
I nodded and headed back outside, the weight of Meemaw’s passing pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe. Cherylsat behind the wheel with the motor running. I climbed in, and she reached over to squeeze my hand as we pulled away from the bar.
Faith
I pulledinto the parking lot of Tapped and turned off the engine. I’d tried coming up with a plan on the short drive over and still had no idea what I was going to say. Maybe something along the lines of “Guess what? All that sex we had? It was so great I wrote it all down and someone’s been reading about it. You don’t mind, do you?”
What would Dante do? Would he get angry? Break a beer mug or two? That would be better than the simmering silent treatment. Either way, it would be bad, that much I was sure of. I rested my head on the steering wheel and took in a few deep breaths. Best to just get it over with.
I unbuckled the seatbelt and was about to get out of my car when Dante and some woman came out of his apartment and walked down the steps. I slouched down low in the driver's seat and watched as the woman put her arms around him and wrapped him into a hug. Dante hugged back, then they separated, and he went into the bar. Probably just a good friend. No need to jump to conclusions.
I kept an eye on the woman who walked over to a car, threw a bag in the backseat, then pulled up on the side of the building and stopped. A few seconds later, Dante strode out of the bar and I watched in disbelief as he climbed into the passenger seat and the car turned out onto the road.
