Chapter 15
STEPHANIE
The last week on the island before heading to Austin was horrible.
Most of my energy was spent trying to avoid Mallory because I don’t do well with contention or rejection—and that last conversation was dripping with both.
For the millionth time, I found myself debating if I should tell Sam about the phone calls I overheard—but I can’t ask her to keep it from Deke. And if he knows, will that affect his friendship with Mallory?
. . . sigh . . .
The upside was that Mallory seemed to be avoiding me as much as I was avoiding him.
That doesn’t mean I never saw him. While on a walk, I saw him helping Renaldo, an older gentleman on the island, fix something on his roof.
On a drive to the grocery store, I passed the retirement community and saw him unloading dozens of what looked like gift baskets out of his car.
I was so frustrated, I turned around and drove back to the condo and forgot about the groceries.
He’s always doing incredibly nice things for people, and all it does is emphasize how two-faced he is. I wish just once that his public actions would show others the side of him that I know.
I thankfully escaped the suffocating atmosphere of the condo we were cohabiting when I flew to Austin yesterday. Luckily, Mallory and I made our own travel arrangements, so we didn’t have to awkwardly sit next to each other.
My meeting with Alyssa, McKay, Mallory, and Chase is tomorrow—which I’m anticipating will be a complete nightmare and the source of many therapy appointments—and then I can fly back to the island and wait for Sam’s baby in peace.
I’m trying to relax at the bar of one of my favorite Austin restaurants, Blue Corn Harvest, by sipping my Diet Coke with lime while waiting to be seated. I need to settle my nerves before tomorrow.
“I’ll wait for you right here.” What the bank overdraft fee?
The rich baritone voice behind me turns the blood in my veins to ice.
I covertly turn and see a man, his back to me, with a stunning brunette in a floral sundress, colorful earrings, and skyhigh heels—and she’s hanging on his arm.
I hate the fact that if I hadn’t already recognized his voice, I would have recognized his body.
Just for his distinctive v-shaped torso and perfectly shaped arms that make the fabric of his shirt strain a little bit.
Fine. There are a few other things I may or may not have noticed about him at times. When he’s been walking away from me.
It’s Cooper Mallory.
I’m frozen where I sit and stare at him in disbelief. There are thousands of places to eat in Austin, and he comes here?
Even with her heels, the brunette still has to lift up on her toes to give Cooper a quick kiss on the cheek. “I won’t be long.”
“That’s what you always say, Little Bear, but then you take ten minutes.” He lets out a little chuckle, his back still toward me.
Little Bear? Really? I throw up a little in my mouth at the pet name I heard him use while on the phone the day I met him. Is this the same woman? Or does he use pet names so that he doesn’t have to keep track of real ones?
I can’t seem to move—I’m so stunned at the coincidence that puts us both at the same restaurant, at the same time.
I sit.
And stare.
After what seems like an hour (but is probably only a few minutes), an impeccably dressed woman who looks about ten years older than Mallory walks through the door. When she sees him, she lights up and walks directly to him with outstretched arms. I watch Mallory’s body stiffen when he sees her.
“Cooper, sweetheart!” She wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace. Even from behind, I can tell how tense he is, as he repeatedly looks in the direction of the brunette. My stomach churns at the possessive look this new woman is giving him.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you. At least not right now,” Mallory says through gritted teeth as he gently places his hand on her arm and guides her away from where the brunette headed—which places him about three feet away from me.
So even though his back is to me and he’s whispering, I can hear every word coming out of his mouth.
“As always, it’s great to see you,” he looks down at his watch, “but I wasn’t planning on you being here for a little while. ”
Something inside my brain latches onto his words, and my world shifts. Have I stumbled into watching Mallory manage two dates in one night at the same restaurant?
This can’t be happening!
“I know you told me what time to be here,” the new woman reaches over and affectionately puts her hand on his face, “but I haven’t seen you in so long that?—”
My attention is pulled to the front door again, as an attractive woman who looks to be in her late twenties comes flying through the door.
She has long blonde hair, flawless skin, and curves that any woman would be envious of.
Immediately walking to Mallory, she throws her arms around his neck, covers his cheek in kisses, and pulls back to give him a millionwatt smile. “COOPER!”
“What are you doing here?” If nervous-sweat had a sound, it would be Mallory’s voice right now. “We weren’t supposed to meet up till later.”
Wait . . . did Mallory set up three dates in the same restaurant on the same night?
Did he get his scheduling wrong, because this looks like a powder keg of epic proportions about to explode—and I’m not too sure there will be much of him left once it’s over!
I’m so stunned that my drink slides from my hand and clanks loudly and awkwardly on the bar, spilling my Diet Coke.
The racket causes everyone, including Mallory, to turn toward the clatter, and his dark eyes lock with mine.
“Stephanie?!” His look is pure panic.
Ten million emotions zing through my body, and—once again—I can’t seem to get my body to move at all.
Another voice joins the group. “What are you two doing here?” The woman who had gone to the restroom, I guess I’ll call her Woman #1 (because I absolutely cannot stomach calling her Little Bear), has returned and is looking suspiciously at the other two.
Though my entire body vibrates with nerves, I stand up to help these women.
I was frozen in place last year and couldn’t help the women on the phone, but I won’t let it happen again.
I have no idea how to navigate what I’m about to do, but I genuinely believe I’m helping—even though I’m about to possibly shatter their worlds.
I take a step closer and hold my hand out to the oldest of the three women, whom my mind labels Woman #2. “Hello, my name is Stephanie.”
She takes my hand, and her touch is gentle. “Hello. I’m Pam.” Her voice is soft, and for some reason it soothes my nerves a little, which is ridiculous.
“Please don’t speak right now.” Cooper looks at Woman #2, whose name I now know is Pam. “And you,” he grabs me by the elbow and attempts to navigate me toward the front door, “come with me.”
“Wait! You’re Stephanie?” Woman #3 (I might as well keep numbering them) looks like she just found out it’s Christmas morning.
“NO!” Cooper shouts at her.
“Yes.” I tentatively answer, because I’m confused. Why on earth would she react to my name like that?
Her eyes scrutinize every inch of me: hair, jewelry, dress—which receives a raised eyebrow of approval—purse, and finally shoes, which are typically Louboutins, but tonight I went with Manolo Blahniks.
“Very nice.” Her eyes are back on my dress.
“That’s from Anthropologie, right? I love it. You have amazing style.”
“Let’s go.” Mallory is still trying to get me out the front door, but I try equally as hard to plant my feet where they are.
Woman #1 has a look of complete shock on her face. “It’s Stephanie!”
“Not Stephanie!” Mallory says through gritted teeth, as he finally gets my body to start moving.
He drags me outside with a laser focus in his eyes that I’ve never seen before.
In a somewhat irritated tone of voice, he calls back to the three women we’re leaving behind, “Don’t follow me. I’ll be back in five minutes.”
A few seconds later, he glances over his shoulder and then abruptly stops and turns around. This makes me plow into his hard body with enough force that I would have fallen down if he hadn’t had such a good grip on my arm. “Melodie, so help me! I said do not follow me.”
“Is she the surprise you were talking about?” I turn and see Woman #1, or I guess Melodie, addressing Mallory.
“No. It’s those two misfits.” He points to Woman #3 and Pam, who are now standing outside the front doors with delighted looks on their faces.
“Go say hello to them, and please,” his voice aches with desperation, “if you care for me, even a little bit, do not follow me out here.” Melodie looks a little stunned.
“Stephanie . . .” Mallory pulls me deeper into the parking lot, but I pull my elbow out of his grasp and stop walking.
“Stop! You don’t get to be in charge!” I poke him hard in the chest in an attempt to intimidate him.
“You almost had me fooled last week.” I poke him again.
“You almost made me feel bad for you, with your sad eyes and drooping shoulders! Can you believe that?” Poke, poke, poke.
“You wield your chocolate brown eyes and chiseled jaw like weapons against women, and it’s not okay for you to treat them like this. ”
“I have no idea?—”
“I’d shut it, Cooper.” I turn to see Woman #3 approaching us with a wicked grin and sparkling eyes.
“Kaylee,” he steps in front of Woman #3, Kaylee apparently, blocking her from my view, “this isn’t what you think it is. Go back inside, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” His tone of voice is panicked and carries no authority.