33. Daisy
33
Daisy
R ex weaves between the tables, gaze intent on me. His auburn hair has been cut and styled neatly with gel, and he wears a button-down shirt tucked into his dress pants. He’s smiling broadly as he approaches, but my pulse races so fast I can barely compute what’s happening.
How is Rex here ? Why?
More importantly, did he see me with Weston?
“I thought that was you.” He reaches the table and takes my hand, raising it to his lips for a kiss, as if I’m a princess in a Disney film. Everything about this moment feels out of character, and I blink, trying to make sense of the situation.
“Um, hi, Rex.”
“You know, that’s so strange.” He laughs, gesturing over his shoulder. “I swear I just saw Mr. Abbott in the bathroom.”
My breath freezes in my lungs. Somehow, I manage to coax my mouth into a bemused smile.
“That’s weird.” I choke out a laugh. “Are you sure it was him? I doubt he’s out of the city.” Rex opens his mouth to say something, and my pulse spirals. “Who are you here with? You look…” I wave a hand at his clothing, taking a moment to really look at him. He’s like a different guy, dressed up like this; if he hadn’t called out to me, I’m not sure I would have recognized him. “Fancy,” I finish at last.
Rex laughs, raking a hand through his hair, pink washing his fair complexion. “I’m, uh, on a date.”
He motions to a woman across the restaurant, and when I turn to see, she gives me a shy little wave. I return her wave, glancing back at Rex. He’s dressed up, on a date at a very expensive restaurant, and he looks almost… nervous. I’ve never seen him like this.
His expression turns serious. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out with you and Jess.”
“Oh.” I fold my hands in my lap. “Yeah, that wasn’t… it wasn’t meant to be.”
“Still, he has you to thank for figuring things out with his dad,” Rex adds warmly. He gives my shoulder a squeeze, but it’s not the kind of touch from him that, in the past, would have made me flinch; it’s a sincere gesture.
I smile tentatively, flicking my gaze over his shoulder to make sure Wes is still in the bathroom. “Oh, I don’t know if I’m the reason—”
“You are,” Rex assures me. “You, and his boss. If it weren’t for the two of you, he wouldn’t have gone back home. I think it’s good he did.”
I nod. “They need each other.”
“For sure.” Rex nods in agreement, rocking on his heels. “And no doubt therapy is helping him to work through everything.”
My lips part in shock. “Jess is in therapy?”
Rex tilts his head to the side. “He didn’t tell you?”
“I… no.”
He cringes. “Shit, I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it then. He’s been going for about a month now, after I drove him back from the beach. I could tell he was in a really bad place, and I pushed him to go see someone my shrink recommended.”
I reach for my near empty glass to cover my shock, draining the last dregs of wine. Rex is in therapy? Somehow, that’s almost harder to believe than Jess.
“I think it’s really helping,” Rex adds. “I felt bad about kicking him out last week, but I’d already agreed to the sublet at my place. Anyway, I was hoping it would make him reach out to his dad. He’s lucky to have a father who cares as much as Mr. Abbott.”
I set my glass down and assess him carefully. My mind flashes back to that moment in his car when Jess used the restroom, leaving me alone with Rex. He’d told me he was worried about Jess’s partying, worried he might lose his job if Jess didn’t settle down. In that moment he’d seemed like a completely different guy, but I’d dismissed it.
I think of Weston’s disdain for him, for how I’ve felt every other time I’ve been around him. But it dawns on me now that’s when he was with his friends, when he was “one of the boys.” If that’s all Weston has seen of him too, no wonder he doesn’t like him.
It’s clear now, though, that we’ve been missing another side to him—the side he showed me briefly on that car ride. The side who has his buddy’s back, who wants to make sure his best friend is okay. The side who goes to therapy and dresses up to take his dates to fancy restaurants.
Is it possible that Rex is… mature? That he only acts like a dickhead around his friends, because they’re dickheads? Because the guy standing in front of me now is nothing like the guy I thought I knew.
Realization flashes through me as I recall the way my parents spoke so poorly of Beth and her family, because they didn’t really know them. Because they didn’t want to know them.
And I bet, if Weston saw this side to Rex, if he knew the lengths Rex had gone to, to take care of Jess, he’d feel differently.
I see a flash of salt-and-pepper hair behind Rex, and my stomach capsizes. If I’m not careful, that moment could come about a lot sooner than I’d like.
“Well, it’s been great to see you, Rex,” I say, my voice coming out in a ridiculously high pitch. I try to signal with my eyes to Wes over Rex’s shoulder, but he turns and heads to the hostess to settle the bill, buying me another moment.
Thank God.
Rex makes no move to leave, so I rise from the table, grabbing my purse. “I should be off…”
“Who are you here with, anyway?”
“Just, um, a girlfriend.” It’s a blatant lie, because it’s really not that kind of restaurant, and I pray my scarlet complexion doesn’t give me away. “And I should, uh, go now.”
His forehead wrinkles with amusement. “Where are you rushing off to?”
Over Rex’s shoulder I see Wes head in our direction, and my insides plunge. Look at me, Weston! I silently plead. Do not come this way! Abort! I try to surreptitiously catch his eye, but he’s gazing down as he walks, smiling to himself, lost in thought. Panic floods through me as Rex begins to turn, as if to follow my gaze.
“I need the bathroom,” I blurt, and Rex’s eyes swing back to mine. “I, um, have a feminine problem.” I touch my lower belly and grimace, knowing this is the one thing that will make any guy freak out.
It works like a charm, and just in time; Wes glances up as he approaches the table, his gaze landing on Rex, and his eyes widen in alarm. He glances about frantically, looking for somewhere to hide, before ducking behind a large ficus.
“Oh.” Rex seems to catch my drift, raising his hands and taking a step back, as if whatever is plaguing my womanly parts is somehow contagious. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thanks,” I say, turning toward the bathroom, but as soon as his back is turned, I scurry across the restaurant and slip out into the parking lot, my heart jackhammering in my throat.
That was way too close.
I slink behind Wes’s Audi, peering over the roof into the restaurant. From here I can see Rex with his date, pouring her a glass of water from the pitcher on the table, taking her hand and listening intently as she speaks. I really had the wrong idea about him.
Weston’s car bleep-bleeps as he unlocks it from across the parking lot, and I slip into the passenger seat, keeping my head down. A moment later he joins me, his mouth set in a thin line as the car roars to life and we peel out of the parking lot.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, guilt gnawing at me. “I tried to get rid of him, but he was talking about—”
“It’s okay.” Wes reaches for my hand, holding it in his over the gearshift. “I don’t think he saw me.”
I swear I just saw Mr. Abbott in the bathroom…
I shake Rex’s words from my head. The most important thing is that he didn’t see us together . He can’t draw any conclusions without that.
“It was close, though,” I say, and Wes gives a silent nod. I want to tell him what I realized about Rex, how I think he might be a better guy than we’ve given him credit for, but now isn’t the time.
All I can think about is the huge risk Weston is taking by being with me, and whether I’m worth it.