Chapter 17 #2
When Landry had suggested they meet at Red Top Bistro and Wine Bar on the River Walk after work on Friday, Mila had jumped at the idea.
“I’ve always liked this place.” Landry’s gaze lingered on the gorgeous bar area with its shiny wood and stone accents before she took in the exposed brick on a far wall that added a rustic touch.
Behind the bar, sparkling glassware was displayed on open shelving, and bottles of wine sat in a cooler designed to keep the wine at optimal temperature and humidity.
The warm lighting enhanced the intimate and relaxed vibe, as did the soft, instrumental tracks of soothing jazz.
“I don’t recall you mentioning it.” Mila bit into a cracker she’d topped with a piece of cheese.
In addition to ordering their favorite wine—red for her, white for Mila—they’d splurged on a cheese board.
“That’s because Chad didn’t like it, so we didn’t come here much.” Landry took a sip of her Pinot Noir.
Mila’s dark brows pulled together. “I can’t see you letting him call the shots.”
“I guess you could say I did, but why would I insist he come here when everything about the place made him uncomfortable?”
When Mila frowned and took another bite of cracker, Landry sensed the need to explain further.
“Think about it. If you and I decided to go out to eat on Saturday night, and I knew you hated sushi—”
“I love sushi.” A horrified look crossed Mila’s face.
“For argument’s sake, let’s say you don’t like anything about it.”
“Not even California rolls?”
“Not even California rolls.”
Mila heaved a heavy sigh and waved an airy hand. “Okay, I’m not liking how this is going, but go ahead.”
“Knowing how you feel, why would I suggest we go to Wasabi Wave?” Landry smiled. “Chad doesn’t care for wine and told me the ambience here makes him feel like a bull in a china shop.”
Mila’s lips quirked upward. “I could hear him saying that.”
“Before Chad, I used to come here with girlfriends. You and I came here a lot,” Landry said, swirling her wine absently.
“BC.” Mila nodded knowingly as she took a sip of her Riesling.
Landry frowned. “BC?”
“Before Chad,” Mila clarified in a matter-of-fact tone. “Once you two got serious, our girls’ nights became a thing of the past. Now look at us. Twice in one week.”
Landry opened her mouth to argue, instinctively wanting to push back, but then she hesitated. Her mind reeled back over the past year, especially the last six months, and the truth settled uncomfortably in her chest. Mila wasn’t wrong.
“I’ve been a bad friend.” The admission came quietly, a weight pressing against her ribs.
Mila waved a dismissive hand, her expression easy, and her dark eyes were warm. “Not bad. Just busy.”
Landry exhaled, her throat tight. “I’m sorry.”
Mila’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Forgiven.”
A comfortable silence stretched between them, filled with the unspoken understanding that some friendships, the real ones, could withstand unintended distance.
“Is something on your mind?” Mila sat back in her chair. “You haven’t been yourself the past couple of days. I’m sure no one else has noticed, but I know you.” Concern shimmered in Mila’s dark eyes. “What’s up? Is it the breakup?”
“I did something impulsive, and now I’m wondering if it was a mistake.” Landry took a steadying breath and traced the rim of her wineglass with her fingertip. “On Wednesday, I wrote Kindred Spirit another letter…” She hesitated, then exhaled. “I asked if he’d want to meet.”
Mila’s jaw dropped. “You did not.”
“I did.”
“That is so exciting!” Mila’s squeal drew smiles from two women at a nearby table who then exchanged amused glances.
Landry lifted a hand, palm out. “Not so fast.”
Mila looked startled. “He said no?”
“He hasn’t responded.”
Mila’s expression faltered for a split second before she recovered. “Okay… But sometimes it takes him a while to respond, right?”
“Never this long.” Landry sighed, frustration and doubt curling around her. “I think I made a mistake in asking. I thought it was a way to know for sure, but what if he is Peter and I’ve pushed him away? What if he isn’t ready for that? I don’t know what got into me. I shouldn’t—”
“Don’t.” Mila closed her hand over Landry’s, grounding her spiraling thoughts. “Don’t second-guess. If it felt right for you to ask, it was the right time. Either he’ll respond and say it’s too soon, or he’ll agree to meet.”
Landry let out a shaky breath, nodding. “Either of those options would be okay.” Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. “But what if he ghosts me?”
The words felt like admitting a secret fear aloud, the kind that clawed at her in the quiet moments, making her heart pound.
Mila’s gaze softened, but her tone remained firm. “If he does, he’s clearly not the man you think he is, and you’re better off without him.” Releasing Landry’s hand, Mila sat back, assessing her with quiet intensity. “You know that, don’t you?”
Landry nodded slowly, her throat thick.
“I know that.” She forced a small, hollow smile. “I also know that if that’s how it is, it’d be best if it all stopped now before I fall any deeper.”
Mila studied her for a long moment, then lifted her glass. “Well, here’s to hoping he’s the man you think he is.”
Landry clinked her glass against Mila’s, forcing another smile. “Here’s to hoping.”