Chapter Twenty-Seven
August tentatively reached out to pat Paige’s shoulder and offer up some inane words of comfort, but before he made contact, she dropped her forearms to the table and whacked her head against the table. Thwack, thwack .
Shit.
How had things gone south so quickly? The date hadn’t been going bad, really. True, there was no chemistry, no heart-stopping moment when he spotted her. No waiting with bated breath for her to notice him or pay him the slightest bit of attention. But it was fine. Until it wasn’t. One minute they were having a decent, if not great time, the next she was crying her heart out.
Wincing, he awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Hey, hey, it’s not that bad.”
“Yes, it is,” she said in a wobbly voice through her tears. And to her, it was.
She’d noticed the waiter’s nameplate, and that’s all it took. Mike. Such an innocent, ubiquitous name. Emphasis on ubiquitous. Mike happened to be the name of her ex, who’d broken up with her three months ago after four years together, instead of proposing like she’d been expecting.
Despite her flirty behavior in their previous encounters, this was her first date since the breakup. She was totally over her ex. At least that was the story she’d peddled. He’d suspected that wasn’t the case when Mike’s name came up while they waited for their food.
“Mike never would have taken me here. He’s allergic to oregano, so that means no Italian restaurants. Do you know he had the nerve to call me this morning when he saw on Instagram that I was going out with you? I knew I should’ve blocked him.”
He’d hummed in commiseration and steered the conversation elsewhere. All to no avail, ultimately.
Another loud cry spilled from her lips. They were starting to attract attention. When they’d first entered the room, most of the other patrons had whispered and taken photos they’d undoubtedly say was in a surreptitious manner before getting bored and returning to their meals. That was no longer the case. Folks were now being bold and brazen with their phones.
He leaned down to whisper to the top of her head. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?”
She raised her face, mascara streaking down both cheeks, her lower lip trembling. “Why are men so horrible?”
He did the only thing he could do. He took one for the team. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
She sobbed harder. Wrong answer, apparently.
He needed to turn this situation around. Now. He leaned down and whispered in her ear.
Her head shot up. “What? How could you?” she screeched.
Fuuuccck .
Her expression stiffened as she noticed the other diners watching them. “Oh, my God, I have to get out of here. I need to be alone.” She leaped from her seat.
Mike, the waiter, chose that inopportune time to make his reappearance. “Everything okay, guys?”
“I hate you!” she yelled in poor Mike’s face before pushing past him and sprinting out of the room quicker than half the running backs in the NFL.
Shit. August rushed after her, but by the time he got outside, her car was already streaking out of the parking lot. Fucking hell. He blew out a breath. This was why he didn’t date. Wasn’t it?
He turned at the sound of a clearing throat behind him.
Sloane stood at the door with a raised eyebrow and her hands on her hips.
He’d almost forgotten she was there witnessing his worst first date ever, which was a miracle in and of itself. From the moment he’d stepped foot in the restaurant, he’d sensed her presence and spotted her at the bar, though she was sitting in the corner. It was like she wore a beacon only he had the right frequency for.
She’d done her best to remain as unobtrusive as possible, but he still knew where she was at every moment during the date from hell.
And he’d just embarrassed himself and upset another woman in her presence. Fucking hell. Yeah, he was batting a thousand tonight.
She came a step closer. “Is Paige okay?”
He squeezed his forehead between his thumb and index finger. “I hope so. She said she needed to be alone.”
Sloane nodded, sympathy swimming in her brown eyes.
And now he had to go back inside and face the stares and accusatory glares and muttered denunciations as he returned to pay the bill and apologize to poor Mike.
He took another deep breath and squared his shoulders. No time like the present to face the firing squad and get it over with.
Sloane stopped him with a hand on his arm. “No need.”
It took him a second to process her words. Because she was touching him. Of her own accord. It didn’t matter that it was the most innocuous, meant-absolutely-nothing touch. Sloane was touching him. He hadn’t recognized how much he’d been craving that contact until now. Like a man stuck in a desert for a decade who finally spotted a waterfall. Was it a mirage? He focused on the spot where her long, slim fingers pressed against the bare skin of his forearm. He’d never been so thankful for San Diego weather, where wearing long sleeves made sense so little of the time.
She was looking at him expectantly. Right. She’d spoken and was waiting for a response and was finding it very strange—no, make that amusing based on the grin playing at the corners of her perfect lips—he hadn’t provided one yet. He replayed her last words.
“Why no need?”
“Because I apologized for the scene and paid for y’all’s dinner already. Can’t have them thinking Black folks dine and dash, can we?” she continued at his questioning look.
His lips quirked. “Nope. Can’t have that.”
“And I left a good tip. That poor waiter is probably traumatized.”
August groaned. “FML.”
Sloane laughed. “No, he’s good. Said he has a story to tell for the rest of his life.”
August rubbed his eyes. “Wow.”
“That’s what he said!”
August lowered his hand and glared. “You’re not helping.”
“Yes, I am. I paid for your dinner so you don’t have to face the crowd in there, who are all waiting for act two. They’re hoping we’re in intermission. I need you to pay me back ASAPtually. You’re the rich one, not me.”
Sighing, August nodded. “You’re right. I owe you. How much was it?” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
She squinted at him, wrinkling her nose. “It’s been a long night. Why don’t you buy me a drink as a down payment? Not in there,” she added when she saw him looking past her at the wooden double doors of the restaurant. She jerked her chin to the right. “I’ve been wanting to try out that bar.”
No guy to meet for an actual date there? That wasn’t… displeasing to hear. Still, she wasn’t asking him on a date. She wanted to unwind. And after the last half hour from Hades, so did he. “Let’s do it.”
She offered up a genuine smile and he was surprised he remained upright. Her smile was killer, and it punched him right in the gut like he’d gone a round with the champ. The smile curved her plump lips, highlighting her magnificent cheekbones, and turned her eyes, already beautiful, into sparkling orbs. And he had to act chill. Like this was no big deal. Because it wasn’t. They were friends, or at least moving in that direction, and that’s all it was. Hell, she’d cheerfully sent him off on a date with another woman, after all.
They walked in companionable silence to the bar, the Secret Cove, a few doors down from the restaurant. August quickly looked around as they stepped inside. She’d wanted to come here? How had she heard of the place? It wasn’t a swanky place where people came to see and be seen, a place people would be constantly talking about on social media. It was clean and warm, yes, but swanky, no. Well-worn wooden floorboards creaked under their feet as they made their way inside.
“Hey, welcome,” a woman called from behind the bar. “Take a seat wherever you want.”
August looked down at Sloane. Fought the urge to lay a hand at the small of her back. This was not a date. “Do you have a preference?”
She looked around. “Let’s sit at a booth. It offers a little more privacy.”
He nodded his agreement and followed her to the back of the room.
“What happened?” Sloane asked after sliding into the booth. “I’m gonna assume something set her off. I mean, I’m gonna hope you have at least a little bit of game and that you don’t have a habit of sending women running and crying into the night.”
He shot her a look as he sat opposite her. “Thanks for your faith.”
After their server, a redhead named Charli, stopped by to take their orders, August quickly explained about Mike.
Sloane nodded in sympathy. “Yeah, sometimes that’s all it takes to have the memories of a past relationship come crashing down on you, and before you know it, you’re blubbering in a restaurant.” She scrunched up her nose. “Been there, done that.”
“Jim, right?”
She looked surprised he knew. “Yeah.”
Like he could ever forget anything he knew about her.
“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” What had that fool done to lose her? He’d wondered more than once over the years.
Sloane waved her hand. “Nah, it’s cool. I did witness your date from hell. Basically, as you know, my dad deals with a gambling addiction. He was going through a rough time when I was in Chicago, and I had no idea how to handle it. It was a really rough time for me, my dad, and my whole family. Jim was less than supportive, to put it mildly. I knew I needed to be around my family, so I returned to San Diego.” She quieted.
August covered her hand on the table. “He hurt you.”
Her gaze fell to the connection, but she didn’t pull away. Her eyes, full of the sadness of the past, lifted to him. “He did.”
“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand. He wished he could offer more. Do more. Whatever she needed to feel better.
Her lips lifted in a small smile. “Thank you for the apology he never gave. You’re a good guy, MOTY.”
His heart soared. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for them. “Anytime.”
“I know.”
Charli returned with their waters, beer, and a bowl of peanuts. August bit back a growl of disappointment when Sloane slipped her hand away to take a sip of her drink.
Sloane set the glass down and steepled her fingers together. “Enough about me and my less-than-illustrious dating history. Back to you. What was the final straw tonight? One second, Paige was there, albeit crying hysterically, and the next, she was out of there like a rocket.”
August winced. He could lie and save all the face in the world. But he made it a practice to never lie. People deserved the truth, even if it made him look like the biggest ass. “I might have told her to drop that zero and get herself a hero.”
Sloane froze for a millisecond, then water came spewing out of her mouth. Thankfully for him, the liquid only sprayed so far before gravity took its toll. August lifted his gaze from the table, now dotted with little droplets of water, to Sloane. Her shoulders were shaking and tears were already seeping out of her eyes. Great. He’d made two women cry tonight.
“Why… why?” she said, in between fits of laughter. She wiped her eyes and tried again. “Why—why would you…” More uncontrolled giggles. It wasn’t that damned funny. She held up a hand. “Okay, I’m going to stop, promise. Why would you say that?”
She ended on a snort of laughter, but August decided to ignore that little slip.
He shifted his shoulders, seeking some relief from the tightness in his muscles. Saying dumb shit made you tense up, apparently. “I was trying to lighten the mood. I was hoping to get a laugh out of her.”
Sloane took another sip of water and actually managed to swallow it all this time. “Yeah, well, that didn’t work. But at least you tried.” She pressed her lips together, unsuccessfully, because another cackle escaped.
August took a sip of his beer. “Great. Now you’re laughing.”
Sloane’s lips quivered again. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I wanted laughter with me, not at me.”
“Yeah, well, I want fifty gold bars to miraculously show up at my front door, but that ain’t gonna happen either. Where did you even come up with that expression?”
August shifted on the hard bench again. Wood was not the most forgiving of surfaces. Just his luck, he’d end up with a splinter in his ass. “When I was little, I used to come home from school and Pops would always be watching talk shows. He moved in with me and my father after my mother passed away. Maury was his number-one guy, but he made room for Ricki Lake, Montel, and Jerry Springer. He watched them, and if I wanted to be in the same room as him, I had to watch too.”
Her expression softened. “That’s sweet.”
He shrugged. “We ended my after-school break by watching Oprah. Had to end on some class, he would always say.”
She nodded. “Yes, yes, of course.”
“I will have you know there were many pearls of wisdom doled out on Ricki Lake .”
Sloane’s eyes twinkled in the light. “Like the best way to duck a paternity test?”
“No, you smartass. The best way to handle it when people boo as soon as you walk onstage.”
“Oh, do tell.”
“You egg them on, of course.”
Sloane’s laughter slowly turned into a groan. “I can’t believe I got us in this mess. I’m sure this story is already spreading across social media like wildfire.”
Damn it. “Is it going to hurt your chances to get that job?”
She blew out a breath. “Maybe. I don’t know. I hope not. I’ll do my best, but controlling social media isn’t actually possible, despite what us social media managers tell ourselves.”
Her phone chimed. She picked it up, looked at the screen, groaned again, and flipped the phone screen down on the table.
“What’s up? More bad news?”
“I…” She shook her head. “My best friend Felicia wants to set me up on a date.”
“And do you want to date?” He was proud of himself. He got the question out without sounding like he was choking. He sounded almost normal. She had no idea his insides were twisting themselves into knots it would take a lifetime to untangle.
Sloane traced the rings, left by a thousand beer bottles, in the wooden table. “Before I quit my job, I might have said something casual. Now, I feel like I shouldn’t even do that. I should be concentrating on getting a new job and reestablishing some consistency in my career.”
He sensed there was more, so he forced himself to say, “But…”
She lifted her gaze and bestowed a soft smile on him. “But, sometimes when I’m alone with my thoughts, I think it would be nice to have someone I can share life’s burdens with.” She chuckled. “Someone I know will listen and understand when I complain about my boss stealing my ideas, which led immediately to me not getting the promotion I deserved, and quitting.”
He understood. While there was no denying he had a good life, he sometimes had those same thoughts about wanting a partner to share life’s inevitable ups and downs with.
His phone dinged, drawing his attention. “Paige said she got home okay.”
“That’s good. It’s a no-go on another date with Paige, I’m assuming,” she said.
“Yeah, pretty sure that’s a safe assumption.” August took a sip of his beer.
Silence fell, the only sounds coming courtesy of the ’80s yacht-rock song playing in the background and the chatter of the other patrons and the clink of glasses. They drank and munched on the peanuts. They’d never hung out together, just the two of them, outside of work. Over the years, he’d always been welcome at her family’s gatherings. But even then, she’d make herself scarce, or Donovan would be there to act as a buffer.
Sloane lifted her beer bottle. “Cheers to better days ahead.”
He clinked bottles with her and tried his damnedest not to be jealous of the glass that was fucking lucky to touch her lips. The hint of tongue that peeked out as she sipped enthralled him.
“What?” she asked, because no doubt he looked like a lovesick fool staring at her with heart eyes.
“I’ve never seen you drink before,” he said. Points to him for improvising on the spot.
She laughed. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
“Even when you were, you weren’t the type to do much underage drinking.”
“Yeah, after my one indiscretion in high school, I was good.”
He laughed, recalling how she’d called him that night. “Good times. You getting drunk off Mike’s.”
She threw a peanut at him and made a face when he snatched it out of the air. “Don’t laugh at me, Mr. Good Reflexes. I was in high school!”
He cracked the shell open and popped the nut into his mouth. “Mmm, delicious. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She rolled her eyes, then lifted her chin at his beer. “Is that your drink of choice?”
“When I’m in the mood for a beer. I like whiskey, but hard stuff isn’t exactly good for the body.”
“Your body is in great shape.” She groaned. “And no, that wasn’t some kind of terrible come-on.”
His lips twisted. “You sure? It sounded very come-on-y to me.”
“I meant that you’re a pro athlete, and I admire the work you put in to make sure the tool of your craft is in top-notch condition.” A prissy note entered her voice. It was the hottest shit ever.
“So you do think I’m fine. I knew it!” What was he doing? He was flirting, duh. The better question was why was he flirting? She’d just talked about wanting to date other men. There’d been no mention of him. Hell, she’d happily sent him on a date with another woman. They’d agreed their kiss was a mistake.
“I think one date and the fawning people are doing over SugarBae is going to your head.” Her smile indicated she knew he was joking and was giving him shit for fun too. Like the old times.
He considered her. “How did you get into social media?”
“You mean as a career?”
He nodded.
She considered the question for a moment. “I was on it, like most people our age. I’ve always liked it. You can be creative and share your life and see what makes others tick. Find likeminded individuals for whatever your interests are. You might think you’re alone, but I bet pretty much anything I own that you’re not. It became a place of community for me. Professionally, I can indulge my nerdy and creative sides. Looking at the metrics and seeing what works and what doesn’t. What’s the best time to post? What app works best for what content? What content will people respond to? I love trying to bring people together over a shared interest.”
“That’s why you wanted me to date.”
She stilled. “Right. People are invested in you, and they want the best for you. You spoke to them, and they care what happens to you. They want you to find someone worthy of you.”
“And you?”
Sloane picked up a peanut and popped it in her mouth, all without looking at him. “And me what?”
“Do you want me to find someone worthy of me?”
She took a long pull of her beer before replying. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
Because I rejected you all those years ago .
But he couldn’t address the elephant in the room. Didn’t want to hear that she’d moved on long ago and never dreamed about what could have been. “This isn’t what you signed up for.”
She shrugged. “I signed up to make you and Sugar Blitz social media stars to ensure the success of your second location. There was no one right way to get there. Yeah, we’ve taken an unexpected detour, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t know there would be bumps in the road. And I also deserve a ton of credit for using two clichés about driving in one sentence.”
August’s lips twitched. He tipped his bottle toward her. “Consider credit delivered.”
“Thanks. In any case, now that you have this date under your belt, you now know what not to say on future dates.”
“Right. More dates.”
August blew out a breath. How had he gotten himself into this mess? The only woman he wanted to go out with was sitting across the table, determined to send him on dates with other women.
What the fuck was he doing?