Page 9 of What Happens This Christmas
With a voice dripping with disdain, Candy shot back something I was sure she had been sitting on for a while. “Maybe you should be a shrink if you like talking to people so much.”
Burn.“Maybe you should see a shrink to cure you of your shopping addiction.” Two could play her little game. Herjuvenilelittle game.
She crossed her wrists and turned to look out the window, not another remark from her lips to fill the air between us.
I took a turn off the road we were on because I supposed we were going to the pub. At this point, I would’ve eaten at thegas station. Anything to put some space between us for a few minutes.
The strangling silence from the last leg of our car ride finally ceased when I tugged open the door to the pub. The place was jam-packed. Jack was in the corner playing guitar, keeping patrons entertained while Brady worked behind the bar.
Candy’s eyes darted every which way, her lips turning downward in one of the cutest frowns I’d ever seen. Too bad behind it was a snarky comment just waiting to come out. Only for my benefit, though. She wouldn’t dare speak her mind in public. It might ruin the perception that people had of us. One reason why none of our friends knew about my job here. I kept it to myself, because no one needed to know, but it would’ve been nice for my wife to support me instead of looking down her nose at the place I chose to work.
“Come on,” I demanded, grabbing Candy’s arm in a tight grip.
She peered down at where my hand was but didn’t move an inch to try to get me off. “This is where you work?” she asked tiredly.
“That it is,” I answered, smirking.
She clutched her purse against her body. The way her leather handbag was out of place had nothing on the shoes, designer pantsuit, and fur coat she wore. It was very obvious she hadn’t set out to come here for dinner. Not that I could talk because I was wearing chinos, a sweater, and a heavy coat. “It’s nice.”
Nicewas Candy’s passive-aggressive way of saying she’d seen better. I’d heard her use it with our friends way too many times to count. Not that I wanted to count. That sounded fucking mind-numbing.
I motioned to the bar where I spotted two empty seats. “I’ll introduce you to one of my bosses.” But first, it was as hot as a furnace in here, what with all the warm bodies, so I shedmy coat, slipping it onto the rack in the corner. I gestured for Candy’s, but she only shook her head. Apparently, she would rather smother than part with her fur.
Rapping my knuckles on the bar, Brady looked up, and I waved a hand in the air.
“Hey, you can’t stay away, can you?” he questioned.
I laughed. “Nah. My wife wanted some mediocre food, so I thought of this place.” I angled my head to Candy and smiled. “Candy, this is Brady.”
“Did you saywife?” Brady asked, wiping his hands on the dish towel he kept behind the bar. He stepped over and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Candy.”
She licked her lips and shook Brady’s hand. “I take it Nick doesn’t talk about me often,” she noted. Inside she was probably wondering what she’d done in her life to have to suffer through this. Luckily, she was a fantastic actress.
Grimacing, Brady shot his gaze to me. “No,” he stammered, but before he could backpedal or feel bad for sticking his foot in it, I cleared my throat.
“It’s a busy pub. Can’t sit around talking about my life.” I also didn’t exactly know how to pairI have a wifewithshe’ll never come here and wouldn’t want to meet you, so don’t ask.
“That’s right. You just enjoy listening to others talk about theirs,” Candy shot back, daggers in her eyes for me.
I raked a hand through my hair. What did she want from me? “Think we can get the house special?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.
Brady nodded. “Sure thing. Allegra’s in the back. I’ll have her bring it out to you soon. Listen, it was nice to meet you, Candy.” He grinned, nudging his chin toward me. “Nick,” he said before walking away.
I wished I could walk away. I turned to Candy, who was barely letting her fingertips touch the edge of the bar as she sat,waiting for her meal. The air was so strained between us, I didn’t know what to say. Instead, I drank the foamy beer Brady slipped in front of me. Candy’s sat untouched in front of her. As if she’d let beer grace her perfectly puffy lips.
Poor Brady, he had no idea just who my wife was.
“Is it always this…crowded?” Candy asked, looking around.
I let my gaze wander for a beat before shrugging. “No, but it is Saturday night, and I don’t work Saturday nights.” It was part of the deal when I took the job—no weekends. Candy often had plans for us, parties or dinners with friends, so I didn’t want this to get in the way of that.
Candy opened her mouth but shut it when a woman walked out with a baby on her hip, carrying a plate of food. I knew the woman was Brady’s fiancée, but at the look she gave her, I had a feeling Candy didn’t anticipate that.
“Allegra,” I greeted to clue Candy in at my side. “Good to see you.”
“Likewise.” She smiled, and I’d swear the room lit up even brighter. Candy’s smile used to be like that, but no longer. That was the thing about Allegra, though. I’d only been around her a handful of times, and it was obvious that she was like the sun…bright and cheerful. Brady often said that was one of his favorite things about her.
“Nice to meet you,” Candy said, turning the charm on. “I’m Nick’s wife, Candy.” Her voice was filled with a conviction and certainty that had my veins feeling like they were being lit with a match.
