Page 29 of Don't Regret Me
He called up the restaurant and a very rude host told him reluctantly they’d have a table ready. Jimmy walked by carrying a bucket and a mop.
“Make it for three.” Nick hung up. “Jimmy!”
The older man turned. “That’s my name, kid. What do you want?”
“Join us for dinner.”
He shrugged. “Don’t have any better offers.”
Bentley shook his head with a smile. “Meet you both there.”
As Nick finished picking up, he couldn’t keep the anticipation at bay. Liz was suspended—because of him—but surely they’d have lifted it once they realized what a video like that did for them. Would she be there tonight?
There was a comfort in her presence he couldn’t remember ever experiencing before. Life with Sherrie was like living in a constant state of agitation, always waiting for her anger to spill over the edge. Her biting remarks, high demands. Their relationship started as a way to build both their reputations. It was never meant to be more, but they both got stuck, unable to get out without damaging their brands.
Liz wasn’t a brand. She didn’t seem to care what the world saw when they looked at her. There were secrets in her eyes. Rather than spill them methodically to the press to keep herself in the spotlight, she held them like treasures close to her chest.
He barely knew the woman, yet she’d gotten under his skin, and he had to figure out why.
Bentley was already seated when he arrived at Nina’s Italian Restaurant, and Jimmy walked in right after him. The place was jammed to the rafters. Voices blurred together in a cacophony of sound Nick normally would have hated.
But tonight, he barely noticed it as he took his seat and glanced toward the doors to the kitchen. He just needed one glimpse.
“Nick.” Bentley grinned. “I’ve said your name about three times.”
“Sorry.”
“We were discussing if we should get wine.”
Nick had never drank much—at least, from what he could remember—but he’d enjoyed the odd glass of wine or craft brew. He almost opened the wine menu, almost chose a bottle.
And then, he remembered.
He was an addict. In rehab, they taught him to stay away from all mind-altering substances. Even if his brain had no memory of his year of pills and stupid mistakes, his body held the record. It would know.
“Just water for me.” He nodded to the waitress.
They each ordered their meals, eggplant parmesan for Bentley, chicken marsala for Jimmy, and mushroom risotto for Nick, but his appetite had vanished the moment he set foot in the restaurant.
Jimmy handed his menu to the waitress, and she left, but the conversation didn’t start back up immediately. Instead, both of the other men watched Nick, studied him.
It took him a moment to feel their eyes on him. “What?”
“Why did you choose this restaurant?” Bentley asked.
Jimmy coughed out a laugh. “Especially after making a fool of yourself last time.”
Nick scowled, piercing them with a gaze that didn’t seem to deter their questioning looks. “I enjoy the food.”
“That’s not what you said in the video.” Bentley crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. He was enjoying this.
“Aren’t pastors supposed to tell people what they want to hear? Stop with the knowing looks.”
Bentley’s grin widened. “Not exactly, but we’re not talking about life as a minister right now. This is about you.”
“She’s here tonight.” Jimmy nodded toward the kitchen doors. “They brought her back when they got too busy to keep up.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about or what you think you know.” Nick hated anyone getting involved in his business. It was why he despised the press.
