Chapter Nine
Y + K is still the hottest place to be on any given night, and its line has already reached the next block when my Uber lets me off at the corner. A part of me is dreading the need to queue, but the guys at the entrance spot actually wave me in, and it's one of those moments I feel intensely grateful I have my so-called job.
The restopub is styled like an arena inside, with dining patrons on the second floor able to enjoy the view of the dance lounge below. Phil, the ma?tre d' of Y + K, is at his usual place behind the reception desk, and I'm touched at the way he smiles readily upon seeing me. "Welcome back, Ms. Edison."
I beam back at him. "Hey Phil."
"Tony shall walk you to your table. I hope you enjoy your time with us."
"Oh. Okay. Thanks." I don't actually have a reservation, but I guess it's my lucky night, and Phil's willing to bend the rules for me without being asked. Then again, it's a little weird that he hasn't even asked if I'm dining alone or I'm with someone else. He's normally meticulous with the details, and... oh my God!
"Raffi?"
Shit.
Apparently, Phil's assumed I'm here to join Jack and his other lawyer friends at their table, and... whoa!
Jack pulls me close as soon as he reaches me, and something excessively wet lands over my mouth.
SHIT!
But Jack's already stepped back before I can shove him off, and he's now smiling down at me like... oh.
"This is the best surprise, darling."
He thinks I'm here to tell him I've agreed to marry him... and have a high-profile wedding like he wanted to. It was originally what we argued about and kept us from making the engagement official, but there are obviously other issues now, and I anxiously tug his sleeve. "Listen, it's not—-"
But Jack's already put an arm around my waist, and the way my body automatically flinches at his touch makes me feel so guilty I end up letting him lead me to his table. A chorus of heys and wassups from his friends and their girlfriends welcome me, and I numbly go through the motions as we exchange a series of meaningless hugs and kisses.
A deluge of questions follows, and I realize in horror Jack's told them about my trip to Wyoming while twisting the truth at the same time. He's always had the tendency to pad his stories, like he doesn't think anything's ever worth telling as it is.
"The town's police chief personally came to rescue Raffi?"
"That's not—-"
Jack's chest puffs up with pride. "My girl's famous, you know."
"It's not—-"
"Hear, hear. Cheers to that!"
"You all got it wrong!" But my protest is drowned by the sound of everyone cheering and clinking their glasses, and I'm forced to wait until the noise level goes down, and they can hear me again. "It's really not like that—-"
"You've always liked to see the world with rose-colored glasses," Jack says indulgently. "But trust me, darling. When you have a real job like ours, you'll soon see for yourself everything's just one big, ugly rat race."
"To be fair though," one of Jack's colleagues interrupts jokingly, "it might be as Raffi says. The guy came to her rescue because it's all he's trained to do, being police chief of a no-name town in Wyoming—-"
The whole table laughs, and I can only watch them, unable to believe I've made myself tolerate this kind of b.s. for years. Jack and his crew have always had this need to make themselves feel good at other people's expense, but I've always made excuses for them in my mind, and all for what?
Because I think my life is okay as it is, and if it comes with people like Jack and his friends, then I should be okay with them, too?
Because this is what I believe I deserve, and I can't be too greedy and ask for more?
I look at Jack, and he's still the same attractive man I first met. Still dressed like the hotshot lawyer he wants everyone to see him as. I've never really felt the strongest desire for him before, but I've never felt revolted by him either.
Now, however...
I look at him, and the sight of him sickens and shames me.
Nothing about Jack and me feels right anymore. Nothing about us makes sense. And even the admiration and respect I used to feel for Jack...it's all gone now, and... shit.
My purse suddenly starts to vibrate, and I fumble in my hurry to get my phone out.
Aidan : See you in ten.
Raffi : No. Something came up. Can you call me? Please? PLEASE.
The seconds tick by, and I have to fight against the urge to start biting my nails as I wait for Aidan's reply.
Shit, shit, shit.
I jab the Call button for his number, but his phone just rings endlessly. I call him again and again, but he still doesn't pick up, and I don't even know how many minutes it's been since his last text.
Shit.
Jack frowns when I suddenly jump to my feet. "Something wrong, darling?"
"I, um, there's someone I need to meet—-"
The hairs behind my neck shoot up, and my whole body turns into ice as I hear a familiar deep voice murmur, "That someone wouldn't happen to be me, would it?"
Oh. Fuck. Me.
I don't normally say the F-word, but this moment just calls for it, and when I finally turn around—-
Oh God, it really is him.
I can't believe I was just talking to him this morning on the phone, and now he's really here, in front of me, and oh my God, but he looks so unbelievably fuck-me-gorgeous.
Aidan might not be wearing any fancy suit like Jack and the other guys, but I know I'm totally not alone in thinking how incredibly hot he looks. He's dressed entirely in black: a leather jacket over a V-necked shirt and denims. Real casual, but every inch of him is just oozing with macho sex appeal that I'm not even surprised when he has all the other girlfriends in Jack's table hungrily licking their lips.
I keep waiting for him to notice any or all of the women currently eyeing him like he's a piece of meat, but his eyes are all for me, and it's making me think the silliest and scariest thoughts.
"Care to make the introductions, darling?" Jack's brusque tone is like a slap to the face, but it's the way Aidan's lips tighten ever so slightly at hearing Jack call me 'darling' that yanks me out of my stunned state. I sense Jack about to curve an arm around my waist again, and I unthinkingly back away—-
Oh...shit.
Jack's face contorts in displeasure as my back bumps into Aidan's chest, and it's now Aidan who's holding my waist in his hands as he helps me regain my balance.
Aidan peers down at my expression. "You okay, baby?"
My eyes widen in horror.
His tone is polite, but the glint in his dark gaze tells me he's deliberately using the B-word to bait Jack, and all I can do is shoot him a look of appeal. Please don't make this worse.
But Aidan only smiles, and my heart sinks. I know that smile of his quite well by now. It's that smile of his that tells me he doesn't think it's right to waste words on answering questions whose answers are already obvious.
There is absolutely no way he's not going to make things worse, and all I can do is cringe internally and cross my fingers behind my back as I reluctantly make the introductions. "This is, um, Aidan Blackwood. I actually came here to meet with him since he's just flown in. I didn't realize you guys were here, too."
"Then you guys should join us," one of the girlfriends says eagerly. "We'd love to know more about your Aidan—-"
"He's not her Aidan," Jack snaps.
"I don't mind though," Aidan says. "I'm happy to be hers if she wants."
And there it is.
Aidan making things worse, just as his dangerous smile has promised .
"Ha ha ha." I force myself to laugh to make it look like a joke, but no one else joins me, and Jack's face only contorts into a look of rage.
Shit.
I clear my throat. "Anyway, it's been nice hanging out—-"
Jack's fingers suddenly circle around my wrist in a biting grip. "You're not seriously leaving with him, are you?"
"Where are you from originally?" I hear another one of the girlfriends ask at the same time.
Oh my God!
Although things have been going downhill fast, it's still been manageable, but if Aidan answers that question—-
"Wyoming."
I bite back a cry. Fuuuuuuuuck me .
There's a rapid-fire exchange of questions and answers, and I just wait for the bomb to drop. The way this night has been progressing, I know it's only a matter of time. It's fuck-me night after all, so sooner or later the bomb's just going to drop...
"Oh my God, you're the police chief!"
And there it is.
Bomb.
Dropped.
And.
Boom!