Page 14 of Meant to Be
Mitch’d had no idea what that was, but no matter. He was smart and resourceful, which was what had gotten him into Princeton. He found an upperclassman willing to buy him Moscato, which turned out to be really sweet wine. He and Sydney spent the evening drinking her wine and talking as if they’d known each other forever. From that day on they were inseparable, planning a future that would ensure they’d be together forever, until she broke off the engagement and he’d gone to boot camp.
“I don’t know if they have Moscato here.” Mitch wasn’t even sure Charlie’s Place, a dive sports restaurant and bar on the outskirts of town, had wine. What he did know was it was the place to go if you wanted people to stay out of your business.
“Coffee would be fine.”
He followed her and made his way past the bar to a back corner.
“Mitch?”
Mitch turned to the man calling him. “Jagger. Hey, man.” Mitch shook Jagger’s hand.
“Syd?”
Mitch stopped.
“Jagger, how are you?” Sydney’s voice echoed Mitch’s surprise.
“You two know each other?” Mitch couldn’t stop the feeling of jealousy and betrayal that crept into the pit of his stomach, which was nuts. He had no claim on Sydney. He didn’t want a claim on her. His rational mind told him it wasn’t so odd that Sydney would know Jagger. They were both from New York.
“New York is a big city, but its social circles can be small,” Jagger offered.
Sydney nodded in agreement. “Jagger dated my friend Julia for a short time. She’s actually coming to spend a few days with me.”
Jagger smiled but clinched his jaw at the news of Julia’s impending visit. “You’ll have to tell her I said hi.”
“What are you doing here? It’s a little early to open the house for the summer, isn’t it?” Mitch’s mama had taught him manners, which was why he continued to make small talk with Jagger when he really wanted to find out what the hell Sydney was up to.
“Actually, I’m getting the house ready to move here. My grandfather died and left me in charge of… well it’s more than I want to get into, but I decided I needed to get away.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather.”
“Thank you.” Jagger looked from Mitch to Sydney and then back. “Three’s a crowd, so I’ll leave you two. Give me a call sometime.”
“I will,” Mitch and Sydney said together.
Mitch glanced at Sydney, hoping that Sydney would, in fact, not call Jagger. Jagger was nice, but his reputation with women was more infamous than Mitch’s.
He led Sydney to a booth, sliding in across from her.
“Small world.” Mitch motioned for the waitress and ordered his beer. “Do you have Moscato? White wine.” He added at the waitress’s blank stare.
“We’ve got shah-bliss.”
“Chablis will be fine.”
“Is that how you say it?”
Sydney nodded.
“Chablis.” The waitress tested the word. “It makes me sound smart.”
Mitch shook his head. The social chasm between him and Sydney widened ever more. Not that he was ashamed of being from the south or even of living in a town with a waitress who didn’t know how to pronounce Chablis. Mitch had been enough places around the world to know dunderheads were everywhere.
“How do you know Jagger?” Sydney asked.
“His grandfather has a summer home on the outskirts of town. Jagger spent several summers hanging out with the riffraff of Charlotte Tavern when he was supposed to be working at his grandfather’s horse farm. How about you?”
“I haven’t spent any time with the riffraff.”
