I didn’t back down, didn’t shrink away, just narrowed my eyes, trying my hardest to reign in my personal hatred for this man who’d abandoned his son. Maybe I wanted it too much, but I just felt there was something off in my gut, I knew he was hiding something. I couldn’t be wrong about that.
“You do what you have to, and I’ll do what I have to.”
His sharp huff of laughter was enough to make me want to slap that smirk off his face, but my eyes followed him as hebegan to move past me. I thought he’d finished with me when he reached for the door, but then he froze and glanced over his shoulder, his eyes burning into mine.
“For what it’s worth, Ayda, I’m glad Drew has you. Drew and the boys. That club was missing a little fire.” Then Eric pushed the door open and began to make his way inside.
The moment the door closed behind him, I let my ass hit the step again and buried my head in my hands feeling more confused about the man than ever.
It felt strange to be doing something normal after an odd couple of days. Even surrounded by my second family at Rusty’s, all I could think about was everything that had come to light in the last week. Working seemed like a loose term considering I’d spent the last hour just staring out of the window at the front. My hands tucked around a mug of tepid coffee as I watched traffic fly by. It was that quiet before the storm, that hour between breakfast and lunch that always gave us a chance to clean up and reset.
“Penny for them.” Janette slid into the booth across from me, a fresh mug of coffee in her hand. She traded it out for the one in my hands with a grin and slumped on the vinyl.
“You don’t want my thoughts.” I sighed, absorbing the muted heat from the mug.
“Drew’s not…”
“No, no.” I waved one of my hands before replacing it on the mug seeking the warmth. “Things are actually pretty good. I’m just trying to puzzle things out in my head. Trying to make sense of a few things.”
“That anything to do with those two?” Janette asked, tipping her head in the direction of Tate and Libby, who were leaning across the booth looking anything but in love. Tate was pissed, but Libby was seething. I’d managed to stop her from going to the school again, but she spent most of the day pacing and paranoid just waiting for the time she knew he’d be leaving.
“No.” I huffed a laugh. “They have to sort that out for themselves. She’d convinced he’s been flirting with another girl, and he’s sick to his back teeth of hearing it.”
“Is he?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, Jan. He’s sixteen. Don’t they all flirt at that age?” I gazed over at Tate again, his expression filled with exasperation as he spoke animatedly with the girl he’d been in love with only last week.
“Most do.” She paused and looked over at Rusty. When I followed her gaze, he dropped his. “The old fool is worried about you.”
“Why?”
Janette chuckled, her cheeks flaring to life. “Well, you’ve been sitting here staring out of that window like it holds the secrets to the universe. Tate just called Libby a name I’d rather not repeat, and you completely missed it. That normally means the distraction is a big one. You’ve been here too long for us not to recognize the symptoms.”
“Would you believe me if I told you I was thinking about my wedding?” It was only a white lie because the thought had been there amongst the chaos that constantly circled my mind. It was usually paired with where, when and how, but it was there.
“What about it?” she asked cautiously, almost as thoughshe was waiting for some bad news.
“Nothing in particular. Just thinking about what I want, where I want it, how I want it to go down.”
“And your conclusion?”
“Do I wear white?”
Janette’s laughter startled the only customer in the place, and it had the other occupants gazing in our direction with curiosity. Had I really been than sullen and moody? I didn’t feel like I had, but the guilt that came with the question told me that I had… at least to some extent.
“Yes, you wear white. You’ve never been married before, and it’s not like you have a child together or anything. Plus, times have changed, sweetheart. None of those old rules matter. You wear what the hell you want to wear, and if someone wants to say something about it, you send them to me.”
“I love you,” I said wearing a grin.
“You know I love you, too. Now I’ve fixed that, what else can I tackle for you?”
I shook my head and peeled my hands from the mug I was still clinging to, my aching fingers letting me know I’d been in the same position for far too long.
“How about I get you a coffee now?” I asked, slipping from the booth. “Maybe then I can break those two up and juggle a little world peace while I’m at it.”
“I have some paperwork to do, and Samantha has to go pick her kid up, so if you could man the floor, it sure would help.”
“I think I can manage that.”