Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Tabitha
I’m not sorry.
I wanted this as much as Henry did.
But this is Angie’s night. Angie’s weekend. And I’m making it about me. About Henry and me.
And honestly? There is no Henry and me.
I invited Stephen here as my date. I invited him because he gave me an amazing massage and he’s gorgeous.
Now, of course, he’s boring me into an early grave with his incessant chatter about organics, but he’s still my responsibility for the weekend.
I wish I hadn’t invited him to the wedding, but what’s done is done. Already I’ve left him to fend for himself in a barrage of Steels.
I rise, grab my panties from the floor, and head into the en suite bathroom to adjust everything.
I already know Henry will be gone when I return.
My lips are swollen from his kisses, my lipstick nonexistent.
Thank goodness he dragged me to my guest room instead of his own room. All of my toiletries are here in the bathroom, and I adjust my makeup. My hair is a complete mess and has come out of its updo. I don’t have time to redo it, but I have to make it look like it did before, or people will…
Yeah.
People are probably already wondering why Henry and I disappeared.
“Christ,” I say out loud to my reflection. “What the hell are you doing? This weekend is about Angie.”
I take about five minutes to make my hair as presentable as I can. Thank goodness I packed bobby pins, which I never use but my mother always said a woman should never be without. Must have been serendipity. Turns out bobby pins are great for fixing an updo after a quick fuck. Who knew?
“Okay,” I say out loud again. “Here we go. Dinner’s going to be served in the next couple of minutes, so get the hell out there and play your part.”
I walk out of my room and into the quiet hallway. Once I get to the main area of the house, the hustle and bustle of the staffers tells me that indeed, dinner is being served.
I head outside and scan the area for Stephen. He’s talking to Sage and Gina. Good. Gina knows him because he gave her a massage today. And she and Sage are both stag tonight. Maybe he’ll take an interest in one of them.
Because he and I? As gorgeous as he is, it’s not happening.
There’s only one man on my radar, and even though we’ve fucked twice, I doubt it’s in the cards.
Not until he figures out what he wants.
I walk toward Stephen and the girls.
“There you are,” Stephen says, holding out his hand to me. “I was beginning to get worried.”
“I apologize,” I say. “A seam ripped in my dress, and I had to repair it.”
Anyone with a brain could drive a truck through the holes in that story, but no one says anything.
“We should grab our seats,” Sage says. “Mom just told me that dinner’s going to be served soon.”
“Yeah, the staffers are getting everything ready,” I say. “I saw them all in the kitchen.”
“Do we have assigned seats?” Stephen asks.
“No, not for the rehearsal dinner tonight,” Sage says. “Just sit where you’d like. In fact, why don’t the four of us find seats together?”
I give them a wide smile. “I’d love that.”
Boy, do they not know how much I would love it.
I’d really love it if one of them would take Stephen off my hands. I can’t take any more talk of whole foods and the evils of seed oils.
Not that I don’t agree with his eating habits. But do we have to talk about detoxing all night?
We find a seat at one of the smaller tables that is set for four.
Staffers come around to fill our water glasses, and then our salad is served. It’s basic field greens with a raspberry vinaigrette topped with toasted sunflower kernels and pistachios.
It looks light and tasty, which I’m grateful for since we had such a large lunch.
Once everyone is served, I lay my napkin in my lap and pick up my salad fork.
“Do you know if these greens are organic?” Stephen asks.
Sage nods. “My mother only allows organic fruits and vegetables in her kitchen.”
“Thank God,” I say under my breath. Our table might fall through the ground if Stephen had to eat a salad made of greens that might have—the horror!—touched a pesticide.
There’s no reason why he’s getting on my nerves so badly. He’s a very nice person, and he believes in what he believes.
It’s just that…
He’s not the one I want.
And I can’t have the one I want.
He said we had to stop what we were doing.
I told him he was the one who had to stop, since he was the one who kept starting it.
I don’t regret those words. Not at all. I haven’t started anything with Henry.
I just haven’t stopped him when he started.
And the truth? I didn’t want to stop.
Is he acting like some knight in shining armor?
God, no.
He’s hurting. He’s using me. That much is clear as day.
But he’s using me and not someone else. That’s got to mean something, right?
I spear a few greens on my fork and bring them to my mouth. The vinaigrette is a tasty mélange of sweet fruit and savory sherry vinegar. Underneath it all I taste the mild flavor of the extra-virgin olive oil. The toasty flavor of the sunflower kernels adds another zest.
“Delicious,” I say after I swallow.
“Simple salads are one of Mom’s staples,” Sage says. “She believes a salad can be just as delicious without all the extra trimmings. Plus, she knows I hate cheese on salad.”
“That’s what you always say, Sage,” Gina says, “but you ate that Caesar salad today, which was covered in Parmesan.”
She shrugs. “Parmesan is different. It’s more for seasoning.”
Gina laughs. “Whatever you say.”
“I don’t think you need to put blue cheese or goat cheese on a salad,” Sage says. “They’re too overpowering.”
“I’ll agree with that,” I say.
“I agree as well,” Stephen says. “Besides, I try to stay away from dairy anyway. The casein—”
I stop listening.
Casein is the protein found in cheese. Lactose is the sugar found in cheese. Both of them can cause problems. I know all about it.
Does Stephen actually eat anything?
I finish my salad in silence. Both Sage and Gina seem a lot more enraptured with Stephen and his knowledge on diet, exercise, and spirituality than I am.
Fine by me.
The server comes to whisk my salad plate away, and then another one comes with two bottles of wine. “Would you like wine this evening?” she asks.
“Which do you recommend with dinner?” I ask.
“Either one will go great,” she says. “It’s really up to you. We have the Ruby blend from Steel Vineyards, which is similar to a C?tes du Rh?ne with Syrah and Grenache, and then we have Steel Vineyards Chardonnay, which is lightly oaked.”
“I’ll try the red,” I say. “Thank you.”
She smiles as she pours my glass. “Excellent choice.”
She turns to Gina and Sage next, and they both choose the red as well.
Then to Stephen. “Sir?”
“Are these wines organic?” he asks.
Uh…didn’t he tell me earlier that he doesn’t drink?
I can’t help my eye roll. Luckily he’s not looking at me.
“All of my dad’s wines are organic and biodynamic,” Gina answers.
“Your father’s wines?”
“Yeah. He’s retired now, and my cousin Dale runs the winery and vineyard, but his wines have always been organic and grown biodynamically.”
“That’s amazing,” he says.
“Which would you like to try, sir?” the server asks again.
“Oh, I don’t drink,” Stephen replies.
The server cocks her head slightly. “All right.”
Why did he ask anyway? I hold back a scoff.
Once we all have a full glass of wine, except Stephen, who’s drinking water—is he going to ask what Rocky Mountain spring it came from?—Sage lifts her glass.
“There will be a lot of toasts after dinner,” she says, “but I’d just like to toast to the four of us. Stephen, it’s great to have you here. I’ll be in to sample your services as soon as I can. According to Gina and Tabitha, you’re amazing.”
We clink our glasses.
“Thank you,” Stephen says.
“And you, Tabitha.” Sage raises her glass again. “I’m so glad to get to know you better. You’ve been such a great friend to my twin.”
My cheeks warm a bit as I clink my glass to hers. “Angie’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had,” I say. “It’s my pleasure to be here and be a part of her special day.”
“And”—Sage lifts her glass again—“because I don’t want you to feel left out, to Gina. And your art exhibit in Grand Junction next week.”
“Thanks, cuz,” Gina says.
“Art exhibit?” Stephen asks.
Oh God. He’s going to ask if she uses only organic paint or something. Is that even a thing?
“Yeah,” Sage answers for her. “Gina is a very talented artist. She’s still in grad school, but she snagged a show at a gallery in Grand Junction. It opens next week.”
“Wonderful,” Stephen says. “What kind of art?”
“I’m a painter, mostly,” Gina says. “Oils, a few watercolors. I’ve tried my hand at sculpting, but it doesn’t seem to be my jam.”
“And what do you paint?” he asks.
“My work is rather eclectic,” Gina says. “I love painting portraits, but I also love delving into the abstract.”
“Please give me the information on your showing,” he says. “I’d love to be there.”
Gina’s cheeks redden. “Of course. I’d love to have you there.”
Stephen’s brazen flirtations with both Sage and Gina should bother me, but I couldn’t give less of a flying fuck. They can have him for all I care.
That would free me up for—
No. I’m not going to give Henry a second thought.
We had our fun. It’s over now.
Stephen is a nice enough guy, but he’s hardly boyfriend material. At least for me. And he’s keeping the conversation with Gina and Sage afloat better than I would be on my own.
The servers appear with our plated dinners. Steel beef is the main course, of course—a bacon-wrapped filet paired with roasted asparagus, garlic and Parmesan mashed potatoes, and spiced peach chutney.
Stephen inhales. “It all smells delicious.”
“It does,” I agree.
I cut off a bite of my filet mignon and bring it to my lips. I can’t help a soft moan.
“Was it something I said?” Stephen asks jovially.
“Sorry. This might be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.” Yeah, I said that about the crouton at lunch, but this is another whole level.
“That’s what she said!” Sage laughs.
Yeah, they’re laughing at me, but I’m still on this velvety bite of beef in my mouth. It’s perfectly savory, and the bacon adds just a touch of smokiness.
Maybe I was wrong about Steel beef. Maybe there is something special about it.
Of course, there’s another piece of Steel beef—Simpson beef, technically—I wouldn’t mind another taste of.
But it’s not on the menu. Not now, not ever.
“So, Stephen…” Gina says.
“Yes?”
“What do you know about Reiki?”
Oh God. I’ve already heard all about Reiki. I think it’s a bunch of crap, to be honest.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” Gina says. “I noticed that it was something that you offered at the salon. But it’s not massage, right? Or is it?”
“No, it’s not massage in the way you think of massage,” Stephen says. “Reiki isn’t about muscle. It’s about energy.”
Which is why I think it’s crap. But Gina and Sage seem to be very interested.
“Tell us more,” Gina says.
He grins. “It’s a subtle, quiet kind of work. No kneading, no digging elbows into knots. Just still hands and intention. I place my palms just above the body—or sometimes lightly on it—and let the energy flow. Not mine exactly, but through me. Like I’m the wire, not the power source.”
“Do you suggest Reiki in addition to massage?” Sage asks.
“They do work well in tandem. Oftentimes I’ll work in Reiki movements during a massage. But if you want the true benefits of Reiki, book an appointment for an hour, and let’s try it together.”
“I’m so intrigued,” Gina says.
“Me too,” Sage agrees.
Stephen looks at me expectantly.
“Well, I’ll be leaving after the weekend.”
Stephen tilts his head a bit, and I can’t quite read his expression, but then he turns back to the others.
Just as well.
I continue eating my dinner. I’m not a huge fan of asparagus, but whatever seasonings they put on this have made it wonderfully palatable. The potatoes and chutney, of course, are to die for.
I’m grateful that I don’t have to make a lot of conversation. Gina and Sage are hanging on Stephen’s every word.
By next week, I’m sure he’ll be making a mint off both of them for a massage that requires no touch at all.
Yeah, it’s crap.
But they can afford to pay top dollar for a massage where they don’t even get touched.
I drain the rest of my wine and hold my glass up to a server walking by.
Best wine I’ve had in a while.
But that’s not the reason why I want another glass.
I think I’m going to need a cool buzz to get me through the rest of this evening.