Page 62 of Lessons in Love
“You were always one for ulterior motives.”
She slips onto the stool in front of me. “You know what I like.”
I do. She’s predictable in every way. In other words, she’s the complete opposite of Virginia. While making her vodka soda, I start trying to remember what attracted me to Isabella in the first place. It’s been a while since I’ve thought back to those days in detail. Mostly because so much of it was blurred by the booze. It’s funny that now that I own a bar, I drink less overall. Mostdays I don’t drink at all. Tonight, thanks to the woman sitting in front of me, won’t be one of those days. I twist the lime into the drink and add a lime peel curly on the top. I still have standards, even if I despise the customer.I grab a glass and pour a whiskey neat for myself. I take a good pull before setting it down, and asking, “What really brings you by?”
“You.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“Nothing to be afraid of. I’ve just been thinking about you.”
The bar is fairly calm at this time, so Clive has it handled. When I turn back to her, I say, “Don’t. Don’t think about me. You’re married. We’ve been long over.”
Her index finger runs the rim of her glass several times. “What if we didn’t have to be?”
“I don’t date married women.” I give the most obvious out to end this.
“What if I wasn’t married anymore?”
I take another long drink of the alcohol before I burst out laughing. The insult is seen in her eyes since most of her face doesn’t move. “I wish I could say I was surprised.”
“Maybe some sympathy is in order.”
“What game are you trying to play? We did nothing but fight.”
“We were young.”
“We’re not that much older. Four years.”
“I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime in that four years.” She takes a sip and then says, “I caught him fucking his secretary.” This time the glass is to her lips much longer and when the glass is set down, half is gone.
“I’m sorry.” I mean it too. No one deserves to be cheated on and in such a cliché manner makes it worse. “Are you still together?”
“No. I left a month ago. He’s fighting me on all fronts—financially and for custody of our son. I haven’t gotten to see him in three weeks.”
My head is shaking in disgust before she finishes. We may not have been #MFEO but kids need both parents, even if separately. I cover her hand because I’m not heartless. I can tell she needs a friend or a bartender. This comes with the territory. “You deserve better and I have no doubt the final judgment will be in your favor.”
Her hand covers mine. “Thank you. I knew you’d understand.”
“Hi.”
Just right of her, the brunette I’ve been dying to see all week is standing with a grimace on her face, her eyes on my hand that’s currently comforting Isabella. I slide it out and wipe it on my pants. “Hey, V, you’re here?” It comes out like a question though I didn’t intend it that way.
“My apologies. Did I interrupt?” Virginia looks at Isabella before her gaze returns to me.
I’m about to speak, but Isabella beats me to it, “Yes.”
“No,” I correct. “No, you didn’t.” I hurry from behind the bar and come around to the front. Taking Virginia’s glove covered hand, I nod toward the back. “Want to talk in private?”
I start to walk, but her feet stay firmly planted to the spot. “Do we need to talk in private, Hardy?”
“What? No, I was only offering since you just got here.” I’m babbling like a guilty fucking fool.Shit.I need to fix this. “It’s good to see you.” I lean forward to kiss her on the cheek but she backs out of reach.Shit. Shit. Shit.
She sits down on the stool next to Isabella and I don’t like the looks of this at all. Until I remember that we are friends. Only friends, according to her. And since she’s all about the asshole still, I don’t owe her anything. Nothing but a drink, and a fuck onSaturday, but that’s beside the current point I’m trying to make. I start to make a Paloma and dump ice in the tall glass, but she says, “I’ll have what she’s having.”
Shit.She’s mad.
Fortunately they use the same glass. I start pouring vodka that I personally like and give her a little extra. It’s not like she’s driving home or anything. While I’m cocktail concocting, Isabella turns to Virginia, who’s taking her coat and gloves off, and says, “Hello. I’m Isabella Treaton of Connecticut.”
