Chapter 20
Chapter 20
“LADIES,” WILL SAID AS he slid into our booth at Jono’s, a fifties-inspired American diner Cassie and Will had promised served the best burgers in town. He greeted Cassie with a kiss, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “Sorry I’m late. We had to wait for this group of old guys at virtually every hole, and The Joffster insisted we stay for a beer after.”
“That sounds like The Joffster,” Cassie replied.
“So, what’s good here, guys?” Marissa asked as she perused the oversized leather-bound menu.
“The Tex Mex, the Double Cheese, the Bacon and Avocado, and the Cajun Chicken,” Cassie replied immediately.
“So, basically everything on the menu,” Marissa said with a laugh.
“Well, we haven’t had the vegetarian, so we can’t pass judgment on that one, can we, Will?” Cassie said.
“No. And I’m unlikely to ever try it. Me man, me eat meat.” He beat his chest and grunted for effect, Cassie’s shoulders shaking with laughter as she rolled her eyes next to him.
It had been a while since I’d last seen Will—since the photographic session for the café website, in fact—and I’d noticed my tummy hadn’t lurched quite as much at the sight of him as it had in the past. Perhaps I’d had time to get used to him being with Cassie, and perhaps having a new, burgeoning relationship with Marcus had helped too.
“I would try the vegetarian if I didn’t like the look of the Kiwi Extravaganza so much,” Bailey said, reading her menu. “One hundred percent prime beef patty with beets, fried egg, lettuce, tomato, topped off with smoked chili tomato relish? If it’s as good as it sounds, how could I not have that ?”
“Yeah, that’s a great choice. I’ve not had one of those for a while.” Will snapped his menu shut and put it on the table. “I’m going for that with a beer and curly fries.”
“Me too,” I said, also closing my menu and resting my elbows on it. “Except I’m going to have a vanilla-coconut shake.”
We placed our orders with the waiter, everyone catching up on one another’s news. As the only guy at the table, you’d think Will would be completely talked over by us three women, but he held his own, sharing news of his new job, telling stories about some of his more colorful colleagues.
And those burgers lived up to their hype: succulent, tasty, perfectly cooked, with light and fluffy ciabatta buns, crispy fries, and a sweet and tasty milkshake for me. There was something so satisfying about simple food done well.
Inevitably, the spotlight of attention turned to me when Marissa said, “How did the yachting go with Josh ?” adding particular emphasis to his name, her eyes dancing with mischief.
“Who’s Josh, then?” Will asked, his eyebrows raised.
“No one,” I replied, and instantly regretted it. Josh may not be my Last First Date, but he wasn’t “no one.” I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks heating up. “What I mean to say is, Josh is a nice guy who kindly took me yachting yesterday so I wouldn’t freak out too much when I go out on my new boss’s boat next week.”
I thought of the unsigned contract in my bedroom and how Josh had asked if taking the new job would make me happy.
“He sounds like a really nice guy,” Cassie said, shooting me a meaningful look.
Cassie hadn’t been involved in the whole Josh dossier building, so all she knew about him was that he was meant to be my Last First Date. The last thing I wanted was any discussion about that when that position had already been filled by Marcus. So, when Marissa began with, “Well, he’s more than that, he’s also—” I cut her off faster than The Road Runner.
“He saved me from a near-death experience!” I blurted to divert everyone’s attention. It worked beautifully, as stories of escaping the jaws of death often do. I launched into how I had fallen into the water, nearly drowned, and how Josh had helped me out. They made all the right noises about how scary it must have been for me and how happy they were I was still alive and not in my watery grave at the bottom of the Hauraki Gulf. I nodded along with them, adding in salient details about how I’d stared death in the eyes and lived to tell the tale.
“Okay, I’ll admit it probably wasn’t certain death, but I was fully clothed and as you know, I’m scared of the water, so it sure did feel pretty darn terrifying to me.”
“And Josh saved you,” Bailey said with her hand on her heart. “How romantic.”
“Oh, yeah,” Cassie said, nodding along.
“That’s knight in shining armor stuff, right there,” Marissa agreed.
“It was his fault!” I protested, even though I knew it wasn’t. I had may as well have been whispering into the wind, anyway. All three of them were practically swooning over what a big hero Josh was. I crossed my arms and chewed the inside of my lip. I guess he had saved me, if they wanted to put it like that, and he had looked after me very well afterward. But it was no big deal. He was Josh, that’s the kind of guy he was. It didn’t mean I should be falling at his feet, asking him to be with me for the rest of my life.
Thankfully, conversation moved onto other people’s yachting disasters—really, it was a terribly dangerous sport and more people needed to be aware of this fact—and we finished up our burgers and drinks.
As we were splitting the check five ways, I heard a familiar laugh close by. It couldn’t be, could it? I searched the room until my eyes landed on her: Portia de Havilland, my old boss and one of my least favorite people. She was gazing lovingly at a man across the table from her. All I could see was the back of his head.
That must be her fiancé, the poor sucker.
I nudged Marissa in the ribs and nodded at the doting couple. “Look, it’s Princess Portia.”
She followed my gaze. “Oh, yeah. That’s her. Oh, and that’s her fiancé, too. He was at Friday drinks at O’Dowd’s last week.”
“You can tell from the back of his head?” I said with a laugh.
“Who else would she be out for dinner with, looking like that?” She nodded over at Portia’s table, and as her fiancé turned, I caught sight of his face. No, it can’t be! I blinked and blinked again. Were my eyes playing some kind of sick trick on me? My jaw dropped open as my heart hit the floor, the world slowing around me. It was Marcus. My Marcus. Only, he wasn’t my Marcus at all.
Everything and everyone blurred around him as I stared at him, not quite believing what lay so blatantly before my eyes. I was rooted to the spot, my belly twisting painfully with anxiety. Marcus was completely oblivious to my eyes, boring holes in the side of his head, so busy was he laughing with Portia, holding his hand in hers—just like he had with me.
“See? He’s kissing her,” Marissa said.
With eyes that refused to focus, I nodded dumbly. Marcus was Portia’s Marcus, Portia’s fiancé .
“Paige? Are you all right?” I heard Marissa ask.
I nodded through the fog. “Yes, I . . .”
Marissa wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “Don’t let Portia bother you. You’ve moved on, you’ve got this great new job, it’ll all be okay.”
I didn’t—couldn’t—take my eyes from Marcus. As the shock began to morph into a cocktail of other emotions—sadness, anger, confusion—Marcus stood up from his seat and looked over in my direction. The smile dropped from his face in an instant.
I pressed my trembling lips together in a vain attempt to stem the flow of tears, threatening to engulf me. How could he do this to me?
“What’s going on?” Bailey asked.
I tore my eyes away from Marcus to look at her. I knew, the moment she saw Marcus, she would know everything .
“That’s Paige’s old boss over there, Portia de Havilland. Paige is just a little upset seeing her, that’s all,” Marissa explained.
Panic shot through me as I saw Bailey glance over at Marcus and Portia and then back at me. A cloud passed over her features, before she returned to her characteristic smile.
“Well, best we leave, then.” Bailey hooked her arm through mine and lead me out of the restaurant into the cool night air.
I smiled at her gratefully, guilt twisting in my belly. As my friends bid one another goodnight with hugs and kisses and “see you soon,” all I wanted to do was get home as fast as I could.
I thought of Marcus, standing there, looking at me, his contented fiancée sitting at their table. How could I not have known? How did I not see this when it was so sickeningly obvious to me now? Marcus never wanted a relationship with me. I was just some sort of booty call to him—although, not at all successful from his point of view. I let out a sardonic laugh, stifling it when Bailey shot me a suspicious look.
I was such an idiot! Turning off me when I had that coughing fit; inviting me up to his hotel room— a hotel room!— on our second date; turning up at the café out of the blue, probably looking for a quickie out back.
That knot in my belly twisted tighter. I felt like I might vomit.
And why did his fiancée have to be Portia de Havilland ? Portia, the most insincere, self-absorbed woman I’d ever met. She was, quite possibly, the single most detestable person on the face of the planet. I let out a sigh. As much as I may have despised Portia, it wasn’t Portia who had broken my heart. It was her two-timing bastard of a fiancé.
“I’m taking you home,” Bailey announced in a no-nonsense tone.
I swallowed, knowing I was in for a grilling. “Okay.”
Once in her car, she started the engine and pulled out, joining the long stream of traffic back into the city.
“That was such a great burger, wasn’t it? The trip out here was totally worth it,” she said.
“Mmm,” I agreed, not trusting myself to speak without bursting into tears.
“And it’s hard to believe you’re finishing up at the café so soon,” she continued as I looked out the window.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“About leaving the café?”
“Ah, no.”
I knew she was talking about Marcus. I knew we’d been totally busted—not that there was a “we” anymore. Or ever. I hung my head. “Not really.”
“You’ve been seeing him, haven’t you?”
I nodded, biting my lip.
“And you didn’t know he was engaged, did you?” Bailey’s tone was soft.
“No.” My chest tightened as tears stung my eyes.
“Oh, honey,” Bailey said, patting me on the back.
“I’ve been such an idiot.”
“I hate to say it, honey, but you weren’t the first woman to be played and you won’t be the last.”
“I was just so sure he was the guy for me. He made me feel special.”
“Marcus Hahn is a very charming man. He’s also a total slimeball.”
“But I thought you liked him? I saw you talking with him one day.” I thought about how I’d been so sure Bailey and Marissa were lining Marcus up as my Last First Date—and how I’d felt when I found out it was Josh, instead.
“He was giving me some legal advice on something, that’s all. I didn’t take it.”
“Oh.”
We drove for some time in silence until Bailey said, “We may have to reset the pact.”
Despite myself, I laughed. “There has to be a limit to how many times we can do that .”
“You’re right. It was worth a shot. But then, Cassie went on her One Last First Date with Parker and ended up with Will.”
I let out a watery laugh. “I could still end up with your choice for me, is that what you’re saying?”
“Or whomever you choose. But I do hope it’ll be Josh. I thought he’d be the right guy for you. But if you’re not feeling it, then that’s your choice.” She pulled her car up outside Dad’s house.
My phone had pinged a few times throughout the trip, and when I pulled it out of my purse to check it, I saw they were from that two-timing ass, Marcus.
“Forget about him,” Bailey said, eyeing my phone.
I nodded, swallowing down the rising lump in my throat. “I’ll try.”
Once inside, I closed the front door and leaned up against it, my chest as deflated as a flat tire.
“Is that you, lamb chop?” Dad called from down the hallway.
I tried to force a bright and breezy tone, as though my heart hadn’t just been ripped out and thoroughly stomped on. “Hi, Dad. Be there in a second.” I pulled a tissue out of my purse and dabbed at my eyes, my smudged mascara blotting the tissue black. I took a few deep breaths to steady myself before walking down the hall into the living room. I didn’t want to make Dad worry about me.
It was all in vain. As soon as I saw him, my face creased up and the tears flowed.
“Honey!” he said, pushing himself out of his recliner and collecting me up in one of his famous hugs.
I sobbed into his shoulder, deep, shuddering tears. I’d been holding so much in, keeping so much from my dear old dad. He shushed me, holding me close. I felt like a little girl, crying over a cut or scrape as he held me.
“I’ve made your shirt all gross,” I said as I tried to wipe the mascara smudges from his white polo.
“Don’t you go worrying about a thing like that,” he said with a smile. “It could be my new ‘fashion forward’ look.”
I let out a watery—and a little snotty—laugh. “I never thought I’d hear you use the term ‘fashion forward,’ Dad.”
“Well, I’m glad your old dad can still surprise you every now and then.”
I thought about the way in which he’d been surprising me lately: Gaylene, going Paleo. Using an expression he had picked up from E! Television was a tiny minnow in comparison with those great, hulking fish.
“Did you want to talk about it?” he asked.
I nodded. It was time; I needed to come clean with him. We sat down together on our old sofa with the cat claw rips on the arms from many cats ago.
“I don’t know where to start,” I said once I’d blown my nose and was feeling marginally more in control.
“The beginning is usually a good place.”
So that’s what I did. I went all-in, telling Dad everything from top to toe. I told him all about how I’d quit my job at AGD under a dark cloud; how I’d been working for Bailey as a waitress these past weeks; how I’d got another job but wasn’t sure I even wanted it.
“Why would you take a job you didn’t want?” he asked.
“Because it’s my career, Dad.”
“Honey, let me tell you something. Do you know why I work at the supermarket?” I shook my head. “Because I love it. I love the people, the way it’s so busy, being around all that wonderful produce.”
I let out a chortle. “Only if it’s what the cavemen ate, right?”
He grinned. “Laugh if you like, but it’s working out great for me.” He pulled on his jean’s waistband to show how much weight he’d lost.
“Dad, that’s awesome.” I smiled at him through my tears. Although it made me happy to see him taking control of his health the way he was, it still troubled me it was Gaylene who got him to do it, not me.
“I know. Gaylene has changed my life.”
I couldn’t help but harrumph. Loudly.
Dad’s face showed his alarm. “Don’t you like her?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just . . . I guess, I tried for ages to get you to take care of yourself better, and then Gaylene sailed in and bam! you started doing all the things I’d been asking you to do.”
It was Dad’s turn to hang his head. “I know, and I’m sorry. You feel betrayed.”
I nodded at him as he labeled the indistinct feeling I’d been carrying around with me.
“I know what. Why don’t we say you loosened the jar so she could open it?”
I furrowed my brow. “What?”
“What I mean is, you laid all the groundwork so that when Gaylene and I got to talking about things, I was already halfway there.”
I let out a light laugh. “Let’s say that, then.”
“Anyway,” he said, widening his eyes in mock frustration, “My point about working at the supermarket is I could have worked somewhere else, made some more money. Who knows? But I didn’t because I was happy. Honey, you need to do what makes you happy, not what anyone else wants you to do.”
I thought about what Josh had said on the yacht. Two men in my life seemed to have their heads screwed on right—and seemed to know me better than I knew myself.
I bit my lip. “So, are you saying it would be okay with you if I didn’t work as an Email Marketing Assistant anymore?”
“Of course!” He collected me into another hug. “Do what’s right for you, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. And you know I’ll always be proud of you.”
Fresh tears welled in my eyes. “I know.” A surge of excitement hit me at the thought of “doing what was right for me,” but I came back to earth with a splat when I realized I had no idea what the right thing for me was.
“What does that lovely boyfriend of yours think?”
My heart sank at the thought of Marcus. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”
“You broke up with Josh? What happened? He seemed like such a great guy.”
“I wasn’t dating Josh, Dad. I was seeing a guy called Marcus and . . . well, it’s over now.”
“Huh. Here I was thinking you were dating Josh.”
No, he just rescued me from the ocean, trained me for my run, and gave me career advice—advice that was totally on the money, as it turned out. Oh, and he liked me. He liked me. Which was a lot more than I could say for Marcus Hahn.
Suddenly tired, my head heavy, I stood up, and said, “I’m going to bed. I’ve had enough of today.” I leaned down and pecked Dad on the cheek. “Night.”
“Night, lamb chop. And thanks for telling me about everything that’s been going on. I’m sorry you’ve been having such a tough time of it.”
I shrugged, a small shadow of guilt still lying across my chest. “Sorry.”
“It’s nothing to worry about.”
I ambled slowly toward the door, turning back when Dad said, “Everything will be okay. You know that, don’t you?”
I looked at his smiling, upturned face. With no career, no boyfriend, and no direction, I wished with all my heart I could believe him.