Chapter Five
Wade
When Phoenix told me that Scarlett had poor taste in guys, I thought it was just an overprotective brother speaking. I would know—I’m an older brother as well, and I feel the same way about my little brother. I didn’t think that Phoenix was actually right.
But Scarlett going out with Allen Chapman? That’s some pretty bad taste. Didn’t she hear any of our stories about him in high school? The guy was so full of himself, his ego needed its own trailer to drive him to school. Not only that, he was always coming up with some scheme to make money—which probably never actually worked since he doesn’t have his own place and hasn’t really done anything with his life.
Last I heard, he’s running some kind of scheme, selling financial courses to people who don’t know he’s an unqualified, self-proclaimed genius.
I never liked the guy, and though it might not have a foundation, I always think it’s good to listen to your gut. My gut’s a pretty good lie detector.
I finish up my shift at work and leave the building at the same time as Jack. I nudge him with an elbow. “Do you remember going to school with someone named Allen Chapman?”
He frowns at that. Jack was two years behind me in school, but he has a few older sisters. I honestly can’t remember if I had classes with Allen or not, but Jack has a better memory than me, and maybe one of his sisters was friends with him.
“Yeah, I never liked the guy. He asked my sister out once. She’s probably about your age. I don’t know. I don’t remember who was in his class,” Jack says, scratching his jaw. “But I do remember that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and it got to the point where she even told my dad about it because he was making her so uncomfortable.”
“Okay, that’s it. We need to swing by somewhere on the way home.”
Even though Jack and I are roommates, we don’t usually carpool to work, but today we were both scheduled for the same shift. Hopefully Jack’s car didn’t lose a mirror since it’s garbage day.
“But I’m hungry,” Jack says in a whiny voice. It’s almost as bad as having my little brother with me all the time. “Where do we have to go?”
“Phoenix’s little sister is on a date with Allen Chapman. I don’t know if she’s even met him before. What if she hasn’t heard the stories about him? And I know for a fact she probably didn’t ask her brother about him.”
Jack sighs as he pulls on a ball cap. “So, what, we’re just going to crash her date?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. If we have to. What do you think?”
“All right, fine. I like Phoenix. We’ll go check on his little sister because I really don’t like that creep.”
Maybe I should introduce Jack to Scarlett as a possible date—he’s a good guy. I slap his back. “Good man. Come on, let’s go. There might even be chips and salsa out of the deal.”
“How do you know where they’ll be?”
“She must’ve told me.”
Because telling Jack that I have a tracking app on her phone, like a parent keeping tabs on their sixteen-year-old? Yeah, that might put me in some sketchy territory. It’s all for her good. I don’t want her to get hurt. Phoenix was the one who downloaded it and linked it to my phone.
I told him it was an invasion of privacy—he said it was necessary protection.
Ever since Scarlett got in that bad wreck…he’s been extremely protective. When someone purposefully crashes into your little sister, causing her to spend a couple of weeks recovering in the hospital, it changes a man.
She’d had a broken arm, who knows how many cuts, and a severe concussion. It took a several blood transfusions to get her stable.
Which is why I still haven’t done the right thing and deleted that app: I’m worried about her, too.
I drive us to Amor Serindipia and park the car in the small side lot. The restaurant is busy, but we decide to walk in and get some dinner. I’ve been here a few times with Phoenix. I think it’s his and Scarlett’s favorite place to go. I hear raised voices, and I glance into the corner of the room where I see Scarlett.
She’s staring in horror at her date across the table. A waiter stands between them, and I notice that he’s resting his hand on the back of her bench seat. He probably knows Scarlett, given that she’s a regular here.
Allen is yelling something about the salsa, a finance course, and being too good for Scarlett. That she’s missing out on a good deal. I make my way through the restaurant and stand next to the waiter. He glances over at me, takes in the emblem on my T-shirt, glances down at Scarlett—who still hasn’t looked our way—and shrugs and steps back. It’s a lot easier for an outsider to step into a fight like this rather than the person who might lose their job if a customer throws a fit.
I sit down on the bench seat next to Scarlet, and she jumps, turning to look at me in surprise. “Wade?”
I lean forward and rest both elbows on the table. “Allen,” I say. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. You haven’t changed.”
It’s not a compliment, that’s for darn sure. Jack just stands there next to the waiter with his arms crossed, staring at Allen. Jack looks like it wouldn’t take much for him to punch Allen in the face. That probably wouldn’t be good for either of our jobs, unfortunately.
“Is there a problem here?” I ask Scarlett. Scarlett just mutters something unintelligible under her breath. I can’t tell if she’s thanking me or threatening my life. I wink at her before I look at Allen again.
“Who are you?” Allen asks.
“You don’t remember me? Wow, that’s a shame. I thought I was more memorable in high school.” I pretend to have my feelings hurt, clutching my chest. “But I think you may have caused enough of a scene tonight. Time to pay the bill and head on your way.”
The vein on his forehead bulges, and he leans forward, pointing at me. “I remember you. You’re that kid who hung around with Phoenix. You were like his shadow.”
I was a scrawny kid in high school, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. My grandma told me I had a hollow leg and that no matter how much she fed me, she couldn’t get me to gain weight.
That changed in my college years. I was finally able to pack on some muscle. My shoulders broadened, my chest filled out, and now I sit at a solid weight thanks to all the time in the gym, homemade bread, and chocolate chip cookies. It’s a well-rounded happiness diet.
All that to say, it probably would take a minute for Allen to recognize me.
“Why are you two here on our date?” Allen glances nervously at Jack.
I glance over at Jack, who is still scowling at him. That guy’s ability to scowl is nearly unmatched.
“I heard some interesting stories that made me uncomfortable with Scarlett being on a date with you.”
Scarlett elbows me hard in the side and whispers out of the corner of her mouth. “I can take care of myself just fine. Victor and I were handling it.”
Under the table, I squeeze her leg. She jumps, and her knee bangs into the table. I try to rub it gently, but she catches my hand in hers and pulls it away. “Quit it, that tickles.”
But I keep my focus on Allen across the table. “I would highly suggest you leave the restaurant and never contact Scarlett again.”
Allen frowns at me and looks at Scarlett. “Are you going to let him treat me this way?”
Scarlett grimaces. “You’ve been yelling at my favorite person.”
I glance back at the waiter, who has a smirk on his face. He must be the favorite person she means.
Allen huffs, stands up, and leaves the restaurant, purposefully bumping into chairs as he goes. The other customers watch him leave with wary faces.
Scarlett leans forward, rests her elbows on the table, and buries her face in her hands. “Worst date ever.”
I nudge her elbow with mine in a friendly little bump. “ Really? Because I heard about the time you went paintballing?—”
She slumps completely onto the table. “I don’t need you to give a play-by-play of my poor dating history in front of an entire restaurant.”
I reach over and gather her hair in my hand. She turns her head sideways to look at me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m moving your hair so it doesn’t fall into the salsa. Because if Allen’s not going to sit here and eat chips and salsa with you, I don’t want to let it go to waste.”
Her eyes narrow at me. “If you think I’m going to share my chips and salsa with you after you came in and made a scene like that?—”
“I think you have me mixed up with somebody else. I was not making a scene. I was simply ending the scene.” I smile brightly at her.
She does not smile back, her soft, brown hair still in my hand. She glances over my shoulder, still laying with her cheek pressed into the table. “Who are you?”
Jack grins and sits down in the seat Allen vacated. The waiter steps forward. “I’ll bring you all some drinks—on the house. Be right back.”
Scarlett lifts her head a little, and I keep a hold of her hair since she’s still leaning.
“I’m Jack Lowell. You probably don’t remember me, but we did go to high school together.”
She smiles at him, and all of a sudden she doesn’t look like someone who just had their date ruined. She looks like she’s ready to flirt with my roommate—while my fingers are still tangled in her hair. “Actually, I do remember you. I think you were a few years ahead of me. I figured you were too old and cool to notice me.”
“I was just scared of your brother.”
Even Scarlett laughs. “Well, I’m sorry you had to see this embarrassing incident. It seems Phoenix has passed on his worrying to Wade. And because Phoenix isn’t here to ruin dates or make them weird, he’s sending Wade in his place.”
She seems to realize she’s still slumped over the table with me holding her hair back. She sits up abruptly, and I release her hair. She runs her fingers through it, straightening it. She looks at me with a serious face. “Thank you for saving the salsa from my meltdown.”
“Anytime,” I reply.
The waiter returns with three glasses of horchata and sets them in front of us. “This is Scarlett’s favorite. I figured you might want some.”
“This is Victor,” Scarlett introduces us. “He owns this amazing place. And he’s the reason I ever eat anything other than cold cereal.”
Victor laughs at that. “I’m trying to get her to try something other than the same burrito and mild salsa. It’s a work in progress.”
We thank him and order our own burritos. I ask him to surprise me.
“Why don’t you go out with him?” I ask Scarlett as Victor walks away.
She reaches over and smacks me in the chest, making me choke on my sip of horchata. “Because he’s married with two small children.”
Jack shrugs. “That does seem to be a problem, at least for decent people.”
Scarlett shovels a few chips loaded with salsa into her mouth, drains her glass of horchata, and attempts to stand up, waiting for me to slide out of the booth. “I’m going to pay my bill, and then I’m going to go home. It’s still light out. I’d rather ride home while I can still see. Jack, nice to meet you. Wade, please don’t ever interrupt one of my dates again. And I will see you—hopefully, not for a while. ”
Oh, boy, is she mad. She might have been laughing, but sometimes that’s Scarlett’s stress response.
I watch as she walks over to Victor and hands him a stack of cash, then heads out the front door. Through the open window, I see her unlock her bike, put her pink helmet on, and pedal into the distance.
Jack stares out the window after her. “She’s funny. I like her.”
I want to tell him he’s not allowed to like her, but that would just be weird and make him ask nosy questions that he shouldn’t be asking. “Yeah, she’s a good kid.”
I don’t believe that at all. I believe she’s an amazing woman. I don’t think she’s a kid. She’s twenty-five years old and making her own life for herself—and unfortunately, she sucks at picking out dates.