Page 73 of Infatuated as They Come
“No.”
“My card is—”
“Leave. Now. Move it.”
“But—”
“You need to fucking leave before I make you.”
“I’ll just order another one,” Grant squeaked out.
My eyes rolled, taking a sip of water as Grant scurried back to his table with his hoard of fellow creepy businessmen.
“Are you okay?” Sawyer asked with a deep frown, settling into the opposite side of the booth.
“I’m fine,” I muttered.
“Are you sure? You look upset.” His hand grasped one of mine that I had resting on the table. “Did he do something to you? What did he say to you?”
“Nothing that will keep me up at night.”
“Who the hell was he?”
“Grant something. I don’t know.” I waved a careless hand at the card the man had left behind. “Throw that thing out.”
“Guy’s lucky this is such a classy establishment.” Sawyer picked up the card before tossing it to the floor. “What’s with rich assholes not leaving you alone?”
“I don’t know. I’m cursed or something.” I rubbed my fingers against my forehead. “Where were you? I’ve been here for nearly an hour.”
He let out a long breath. “I got held up at work.”
I nodded once. “Right.”
“This whole day I was looking forward to having this dinner with you, and then…”
“Then what?”
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I honestly didn’t think the car I was working on would take that long. But one thing led to another and then it was a rush back home and then I had to get changed and… But I’m here now,” he offered, squeezing at my hand. “And you must be hungry, so order whatever you want.”
My eyes lowered to the table. “I thought you weren’t gonna show up.”
“Of course I was gonna come. I wasn’t gonna miss this. I just… got here extremely late.”
“It’s not just tonight. It’s…” I cut myself off before I could spill my guts to him. “Never mind.”
“It’s what?” Sawyer asked.
My head shook. “Nothing. It’s nothing. It’s fine and I’m okay and you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
“You’re allowed to be mad at me,” he said. “Be mad if you want. You used to have no trouble getting mad at me before. Tell me what you’re feeling. Please.”
Eyes closing, I finally let it out. “I’m not mad. I’m… upset.”
I heard him let out a long sigh. “That’s worse than you being mad.”
“It’s just…” My eyes finally opened back up again, the air suddenly all thick with heavy tension as our gazes met. “I barely ever see you anymore. You leave so early in the morning and then you get back so late and then when you make plans you have a habit of…”
“Breaking them.” He finished the sentence. “I’ve been doing that a lot lately, haven’t I?”
