Page 18 of The Sweet Spot
Just as she turns to walk away, the bell over the front door rings as the door opens. When Jennie looks to see who’s coming into the restaurant, her expression goes slack as she stares. She looks like she’s seeing a ghost.
My gaze snaps to the entrance so I can see who she’s staring at.
Micah turns in his seat to see what all the excitement is about. “Isn’t that Dave Braggart?” he asks after he turns back to face me.
“Yeah,” I say.
Dave Braggart is one of the kids we went to school with. He was—probably still is—a rich asshole who never missed an opportunity to rub our faces in the fact he had everything, and we three had next to nothing. He was lead pitcher on our highschool baseball team even though he couldn’t throw a strike if his life depended on it. He didn’t have to—his dad donated a ton of money to the school athletic program. It’s fair to say Dave is the reason we hardly ever won a game.
He was also the main point guard on the basketball team, even though he couldn’t run and dribble at the same time.
Braggart was an all-around douchebag.
“I haven’t seen him since high school,” Micah says dismissively.
“Me neither. I heard he moved to Vegas and took up gambling like it was an Olympic sport.”
Jennie storms over to Dave like an irate hornet defending her nest. “What the hell are you doing here?” she hisses, loud enough we can hear her without problem. “We have an agreement!”
Dave gives her a cocky smile. “Well, hello to you, too, babe.”
She points at the door. “Get out!”
Dave gives her a smarmy grin. “Can’t a guy stop in to say hi to the love of his life?”
“What the fuck!” I shoot to my feet, but Micah grabs my wrist and tugs me back down. “Why is he talking to her like that?”
Micah shrugs, as clueless as I am.
“I said, get out!” Clearly, Jennie’s fuming. She’s trying to keep her voice down, but half the diner is paying rapt attention to the scene at the entrance.
I’ve heard enough to know this guy is harassing her. Just as I rise, Braggart makes a grab for Jennie’s hand. She pulls it back, out of his reach.
“Come on, baby,” Braggert says to her in a low, cajoling tone. “Is that any way to treat your long-lost husband?”
“You arenotmy husband!”
“Husband, ex-husband. What difference does one little prefix make? It’s just a matter of semantics, Jennie-bean.”
“I told you not to call me that,” she hisses.
“Is there a problem?” I ask when I reach Jennie’s side. I lay my hand on her lower back.I’m here.
She actually leans into my touch.
Dave grins at me. “No, officer. No problem at all. I’m just here to see my wife.” The man narrows his dark eyes as he studies my face. “Holy shit! You’re that kid—what’s your name? Chris Nelson, the whore’s son!”
“David!” Jennie snaps. “Don’t call him that.”
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” Braggert asks. “Half the men in this town diddled Kitty Nelson at one time or other.”
Hearing my mother’s name hits me like a bucket of cold water. I can’t argue with his claim, though. He’s right. And I’m sure his dad was one of those who bought what my mother was selling.
“Do you want me to trespass him?” I ask Jennie. I’m proud of myself for maintaining my calm. All Jennie has to do is say the word and I’ll escort this asshole out of her diner, forcibly if necessary. He won’t be welcome back.
Dave’s smile vanishes as he glares at me. “Who the fuck are you to tell me where I can and can’t go? Go fuck off,officer.”
“Actually, it’sSheriffNelson to you, asshole.”
