Page 70 of Love Unforgettable
Chapter 23
Lexie
Am I flirting with Cole Mason?
I think I am.
I walk back to the opposite end of the bar from where he sits to serve some additional guests. The crowd is thinning out just a bit, in part because Trevor has left, and probably in part because the food is almost gone. I scan the room, pausing at one of the entrances just in time to see Elise walk back into the winery, looking really upset. She finds me with her eyes and comes storming forward, her face red and eyes puffy, yelling as she approaches.
“What is wrong with you? Not enough single men around, you have to go after the ones already taken? You are a sick woman.”
She must know what Trevor and I did.
That doesn’t make me sick, it just makes me stupid.
Maybe she doesn’t mean me. Though all indicators point to that she is talking to me.
I turn around just in case there is someone else behind me. Nope. Just me.
She reaches the tasting bar, people parting the way for her with her every step.
“Elise—” I start.
“And then you have the audacity to speak with my daughter and me as though you aren’t a monster set on destroying our lives?”
“I—”
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” she asks.
“I—”
“Nothing?”
“May I speak?” I ask.
Elise nods tersely, her chest heaving with fast breaths, her face red with both anger and exertion. I worry that she’ll go into labor if she doesn’t settle down. Though, I’m just not sure if that really happens outside of movies.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Sorry? Sorry?” Her voice is near screeching and everyone in the building has stopped talking and is watching us now. “Sorry doesn’t do anything. Sorry doesn’t help me sleep at night. Sorry is just a word. A stupid, meaningless word.”
“Obviously, we made a mistake.”
“We? Are you trying to imply that Trevor was involved in this? That he had a say somehow? Oh my God. That’s rich. He’s right. You’re crazy.”
Cole moves to step in, but I raise my hand to stop him. This is something I’ve got to handle on my own.
“I’m not sure why you think he wouldn’t have a say in this . . . wait, he said I was crazy?”
“I’ll bet you’re one of those people who also thinks a girl deserves to be raped based on what she’s wearing,” Elise says.
“What? God, no. Of course not. Where is this coming from?” I have to admit, I’m more than a little confused at this point. Or else Elise is. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything. Why would you say that?”
She puts her hand over her stomach and grips the edge of a barstool. Hard enough so that her knuckles turn white. She bends her knees slightly and hunches over.
“Elise, are you okay?” I ask. It takes her a minute to look up and answer.
“Don’t say my name as though we are friends,” she hisses. “It’s just Braxton Hicks, I’m fine.”
