Page 113 of Caught in the Axe
She patted my arm. “Oh, Owen, it’s just an evening out with friends.” The smile she gave me turned a little feline then. “And you never told me what you’re doing here.”
The look on her face was pure challenge. She was silently warning me to keep my mouth shut on the topic of her dating.
For now, I’d do just that. I’d save all my questions foranother day, after I punched my heavy bag for a few hours and talked to my brothers.
I wasn’t involved with the operations side of the business, but I knew Gus could easily disappear this fucker out in the woods.
“I met a friend for dinner,” I stammered as my phone vibrated three times in my pocket. Dammit. I needed to give Lila a heads-up.
She glanced back at my empty table. “Where did she go?”
I held back a sigh. Of course she’d assume it was a she.
“Just stepped out for a moment. Work thing.” I shrugged casually. “I better get back.”
Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I turned and headed back to our table. I waited until I was halfway across the dining room to pull my phone out.
Lila
Motherfucker.
Okay, it’s getting weird in here. I’ll climb out a window and meet you at the car.
Or… should I go through the kitchen? Can you text me some photos of the layout so I can plan my escape route?
Hit with a wave of weariness, I sighed. Not only was my mom dating, but she was dating someone who made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. And she was hanging out with the Souzas? I couldn’t prove it, but there was no way the chief didn’t have some inkling about what my dad was up to, yet he had turned a blind eye.
And now Lila was willing to climb out a window to avoid being seen with me in public. Fucking great.
Or you could come out, and we could bite the bullet and come clean. Be honest that we’re together.
With your mom? She’ll hate me forever.
Are we talking about the same woman? Debbie Hebert? Medium height? Sensible bob haircut? Loves to knit and bake pies?
I can’t face her. Who else is there?
Chief Souza and his wife and Charles Huxley. Don’t know him, but I don’t trust him.
Now Charles was holding court at their table, telling some funny story. Probably about golf. Fuckers like that always thought golf stories were interesting. My mom’s tinkling laughter floated across the restaurant, and it made me see red.
Wait. Is your mom on a date?
I can’t answer that right now. I’m having some kind of rage-induced panic attack.
This is too weird. We have to leave.
My damn heart was bruised and in my throat. I desperately wanted to leave. But I also wanted to stay and salvage my romantic dinner with Lila. This day had felt so perfect, and now everything had gone to shit.
What do you want me to tell them?
Say you were meeting a date and she ghosted you.
Wow, thanks. Also your wineglass is half full and has your lipstick on it.
Come up with something.
Should I create a diversion? Set a small fire?
