Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Tabitha
Frankie waved to Tabitha and Lark from a small bistro table in the far corner of The Rooftop Tavern. Lark bounded toward the petite adventure guide as Tabitha scanned the crowd to make sure a certain six foot, heavily tattooed, fully bearded man from her past wasn’t there.
“The coast is clear, babe!” Lark hollered from the table.
Tabitha cringed, dipping her head down as numerous sets of curious eyes settled on her.
The shower back at the hotel room had been much needed and provided a little fortitude to manage her nerves should another chance encounter occur, but as she stood at the entryway, much of that bravery waned.
Her stomach growled. She’d worked hard that day and a french dip with those magical onion rings sounded amazing.
“I’m glad you both decided to join me,” Frankie grinned mischievously.
“Little miss all business here wanted to stay in her room.” Lark tossed a thumb toward Tabitha. “Said something about writing some notes and getting a head start on the article. But we all know what’s up. Avoidance.”
“Hey.” Tabitha tried to sound offended, but her companion wasn’t wrong. “It was a long day.”
Frankie eyed the other two women shrewdly then nodded. “Food first,” she murmured and waved to the bartender. A moment later, Kendrick deposited a few coasters and menus on the little table.
“Well, well, well,” he crooned. “Look who’s back for round two.”
“What can I say? That corned beef hits,” Lark chuckled.
“Sadly, it’s no longer on the menu.”
“Boo. Hiss. Though that’s the fleeting nature of specials I suppose. What would you recommend instead?”
“Depends on how adventurous you are,” he teased, dark brown eyes sparkling as they crinkled in the corners.
“Well, barkeep, order me whatever you think is the best thing on the menu. I’m the most adventurous person you’re ever gonna meet,” Lark flirted then patted a gentle hand on Tabitha’s forearm. “This one not so much. My guess is she’ll get the exact same thing she did last night.”
Tabitha jerked her arm away, slightly offended. “And what’s wrong with that?”
Kendrick shook his head. “Absolutely nothing. You’re a woman who knows what she wants. I respect that.” He winked then looked to Frankie. “The usual?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll be back shortly with your drinks after I put in your food. IPA, draft root beer, and . . .” He pointed from Frankie, to Lark, then stalled on Tabitha.
“Water, please.”
“My pleasure. Be right back.” He circled back behind the bar and set to work.
Lark leaned in. “That man’s a snack. What’s his red flag?”
Frankie laughed. “He’s married to this place. I’ve only ever seen him outside of these walls for weddings, funerals, and the random grocery run.”
Lark glanced behind her, lingering on the bar owner as he hauled a keg over his shoulder. The veins in his biceps bulged beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his worn black shirt.
Tabitha handed her a napkin. “You’re drooling.”
Lark turned back around. “I’m shocked you aren’t. Is that because you’re preoccupied with a certain hottie climbing guide?”
Tabitha scoffed. “What? No. No. Absolutely not. Nu-uh.”
“What do they say again about protesting too much?”
“Since Lark brought it up,” Frankie chimed in, “what is the deal with you and Zac?”
“Nothing. There is nothing going on with us.” Tabitha tried to cool her defensiveness, but her words came out too robotic. Scripted. If she heard it in her own voice, surely they could too.
“But there’s history there.” Frankie wasn’t asking. And she wasn’t wrong.
An ex was the last thing Tabitha needed to be focusing on, not with her career hanging on the execution of a single article.
A lot was at stake, and spending her energy on an old flame was a waste of resources.
She looked across the little bistro table at her dining companions.
Both leaned in expectantly, eager to hear her side of whatever happened.
A couple of ruthless bulldogs with blonde hair and breasts.
“So tense,” Kendrick chuckled uncomfortably as he set down the drink order. “Do I need to separate you three?”
Neither inquisitor flinched.
Tabitha relented with a sigh and smiled at the bartender. “No. I can handle them.”
“Food’ll be out in fifteen.” He patted the table and moved on to the next group.
“Hear that?” Tabitha asked. “Fifteen minutes until dinner. You have exactly until the plates hit the table to ask your questions. I may or may not answer them—depending on how personal they get. But I promise to be honest. After that I’m a closed book. Got it?”
“Did you two date?” Lark launched first.
“Was it a hookup?” Frankie overlapped.
“Was it long-term?”
“How long ago was it?”
“Who ended things?”
“Have you talked to him since whatever happened happened?”
“Bow big is his—”
“Gross!” Frankie cut Lark off, wearing a face so sour it looked like she would throw up at any minute.
“Jesus, Lark.” Tabitha shook her head.
“Fine. I retract my last question,” she conceded, holding up her hands in surrender. “But about all the other questions. Go.”
Lark sipped on her soda while Frankie tapped her fingers anxiously on the tabletop. Not bulldogs . . . these ladies were vultures.
“Zac and I were in a situationship for about a month. It wasn’t exactly dating, but it also wasn’t a hookup.”
“A fling, then?” Lark offered.
I love you, tabby cat.
“Not a fling either.”
“If it lasted around a month, then it must have been a long time ago.” Tabitha could see the gears working in Frankie’s head. “I don’t really remember Zac dating anyone for even that long recently.”
That information shouldn’t have been uplifting, but it still managed to give Tabitha a bubbly feeling. She drank some ice water to wet her suddenly dry mouth. “Sixteen years ago.”
Lark and Frankie sat back, each mumbling various curses, breaths, whistles.
“Who ended things?”
“He did.”
“Babe,” Lark’s typically playful voice dripped with sympathy as she slipped her fingers around Tabitha’s wrist.
But the last thing Tabitha wanted was pity—not for this. Not for the ache it’d caused. The trust issues. The feelings of inadequacy.
She pulled her hand away and settled them both in her lap. “Sixteen years ago, remember?”
“Why did he end it?” Frankie asked.
Tabitha shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”
Lark flinched a little, startled by the uncharacteristic curse. “Well, what did he tell you the reason was?”
“He didn’t,” Tabitha said plainly.
“Didn’t what?” Lark asked.
“Didn’t tell me. He disappeared one day. Never to return or reach out again. Yesterday evening was the first time seeing him since then.”
“The rat bastard,” Lark spat while Frankie rolled her eyes, moaning, “Typical.”
“Did you try to find him?” Lark asked.
“Why would I waste my time?” Tabitha longed to break eye contact but feared doing so would reveal too much. “He made his feelings for me perfectly clear when he vanished.”
Kendrick interrupted the silence with two armfuls of plates.
“BLTA and tots for Frankie. A french dip, onion rings, and all the dips for Tabitha.” He placed the first two plates in front of each woman, respectively, and then settled the largest plate in front of Lark. “And my world-famous chicken and cinnamon waffle sandwich for ‘Miss Adventure’.”
The plate of mismatched food was heaping, and the spicy tang of the chicken and the sweet maple syrup made Tabitha drool.
Peals of laughter erupted from Lark as she snapped a few shots of the culinary mountain with her phone. “I’m not complaining, only seeking guidance: How the hell am I supposed to eat this?”
“With these,” Kendrick chuckled, handing a fork and steak knife wrapped in half a dozen napkins. “Don’t make the rookie mistake of trying to pick it up to eat. It’ll fall apart in two bites. And neglecting the syrup and Louisiana hot sauce will get you banned by the owner.”
“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Lark’s eyes twinkled.
“Absolutely not. Enjoy, friends. Holler if you need anything.” The bartender retreated to the bar.
Tabitha picked up a steaming hot onion ring, but before she could take a bite, Frankie interrupted with a mouthful of her sandwich. “How did you feel about him?”
The scrape of Lark’s fork and knife as she chopped her meal into bite-sized pieces halted at the question. Her big blue eyes unblinking.
It wasn’t a simple question. And the answer had shifted from resentment to regret to forced ambivalence.
There was once a time when Tabitha thought she loved him.
But that notion puffed out of the room the day he disappeared.
She’d never been one to allow anyone in.
The one time she had a moment of weakness and allowed Zac access, her heart wound up bruised because she refused to admit that he was worthy of a bigger response.
The question of how she felt about him was tricky because it depended.
Currently, she felt irritated that he was drawing her focus.
She wasn’t sure how much to reveal. Too little and both her dinner companions would demand more, but revealing too much was out of the question. So she settled on a half truth.
“Zac was an enjoyable distraction.” Tabitha shrugged and bit into her now-cold onion ring. “And when he left, I was happy to get back to what actually mattered to me.”