Chapter Eighteen
Alicia
Through my windshield played the sweetest little tableau.
A sleeping baby hugged to Remi’s chest. A gorgeous brunette walking next to him.
They were talking as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
She put an older little girl in her seat, before rounding the trunk of her car to check the straps of the car seat Remi had deposited the youngest in.
Even from this distance with only the parking lot lights overhead, I could tell her eyes were the clearest blue, that her cheekbones were high, and under her wide lips was a delicate, pointed chin.
In short, she was absolutely lovely.
But when they hugged goodbye it didn’t linger. Not that it mattered.
It didn’t matter.
It just made it feel like snakes were slithering in my stomach.
I erased the text I’d been typing just a moment before thanking him for fixing the door he broke.
I’d gone back and forth on replying but ultimately decided I would for two reasons.
One, it’d been fun to talk to him throughout the day.
And two, I really wanted to bury that text I’d sent about him calling his penis a genie.
So embarrassing.
It was even worse that he didn’t even acknowledge that I said it.
“What response could he have made to make that comment okay?” I spoke aloud to my empty car.
Remi waved goodbye to the gorgeous mom.
Admitting, even to myself, that I felt the slightest twinge of envy over who Remi spent time with was humiliating.
I couldn’t even bring myself to tell Sadie that I was getting tied up in a weird almost friendship with him.
Her advice and perspective would be helpful, but then I’d have to admit that I was less than indifferent toward him.
And she’d be able to tell that I was lying when I said these feelings had nothing to do with attraction not only to his appearance but . . . him.
Remaining in my car, as he jogged back to the building. I sent a simple, Thanks.
He slowed to a halt, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.
The steam of his breath shone in the parking lot light; it illuminated him in stark contrasts.
His thumbs hovered above the screen of his phone before tapping haltingly.
Furrows dug deep into his forehead. One giant puff of silver blotted against the black sky and then disappeared.
His shoulders fell, his face pointed up.
My heart twisted.
This one-sided unguarded display.
This confirmation that our situation wasn’t easy on him either.
He slid his phone back into his pocket. With less spring in his step than before, he took long strides toward the building.
The ache in my chest moved upward squeezing like a fist around my throat.
“What are we doing?” I whispered.
Nothing, I pointed out. Absolutely nothing, we are existing. We are withstanding a shitty situation. And we’re doing a pretty good goddamn job of it.
Anyway, I was here with Emmett—in a professional capacity only, but still.
He had offered to introduce me to people who would be able to spread the news about my cause.
I’d established a rule years ago that while I was traveling for work: I did not pursue anyone romantically.
Part of my job, possibly the most important aspect, was being likable.
Entering into a small dating scene . . .
It wasn’t good for business. I needed all the help I could get.
Gaining traction within Grand Ridge had been slower than I’d expected.
If everything didn’t sound promising for Jamison, lawyer fuckboy, at the capitol then I would be nervous about my progress.
Plus, Emmett seemed really nice. I had every reason to enjoy his company—and zero reasons to be jealous of the company my ex-husband kept.
Still, I found myself both dreading and anticipating getting to snag glances of Remi in the wild, among the people he filled his time with. Dread won out when I considered that he might do more than hug someone tonight.
“Get your head outta your ass,” I demanded, truly fed-up with my bullshit.
I took a bracing breath and stepped out of my car.
Entering the building, I was grateful that I’d left my bulky coat on my passenger seat.
The place was packed and warm. I had to weave around groups, perfumes and body odor mixed with the smell of alcohol.
But I’d only found one sticky spot on the floor from a spilled beverage, so the patrons weren’t too rowdy, yet.
Emmett was where he had promised to be. He leaned one elbow on the bar sipping his beer. Missy sat on a stool next to him.
Her blond hair was pulled into a simple bun, combined with her oversized, black-rimmed glasses and loose-fitting black tunic she looked far too sophisticated for the area, let alone the bar—which was nice in a rugged kind of way.
The walls were lined with wooden booths.
Circular tables stood in the center, and black steel beams stretched across the ceiling.
A large well-lit mirror hung behind tiers of alcohol.
When Emmett spotted me, he straightened and a little smile pulled at his lips.
He was slightly taller than the average man, and the trim fit of his blue sweater and jeans elongated his frame. His strong jaw was covered in a full, black beard, and his dark brown eyes were lined in long swooping lashes.
“You made it,” Missy said, her voice deep for such a tiny woman.
Lifting his beer off the bar, Emmett offered, “Do you want a drink?”
I couldn’t keep myself from scanning the packed room. If Remi was in it, I’d spot him. Not just because he was taller than most of the human race, but because my eyes liked to find him. They would land on him no matter where we found ourselves.
Not for the first time, I reminded myself, Noticing is not the same as action.
Had I taken an eyeful of my ex-husband that morning? The sprawl of his frame on the sofa, too big to fit. The fine lines from the corners of his eyes. His slightly parted perfectly shaped pink lips. The reddish brown of his eyelashes and in the stubble on his jaw warm against his skin.
Yes.
Had it rekindled the desire I’d struggled with all night?
Again, yes.
Had I acted on my unfortunately lusty thoughts?
No.
I’d learned the hard way to be mindful of my choices.
“Yeah, do they have a wine list?” I asked.
Missy pinched a laminated white piece of paper between her fingers and handed it to me.
Emmett leaned against the bar on his elbow. “How’s the petition coming?”
“I’m making progress.” I left out the fact that it was coming too slowly.
“You’ll get to meet pretty much everyone tonight.” Missy lifted her cocktail and scanned the crowd. “Bet Strauss just left, but Lola or Sterling might still be here. Just a warning, Sterling is the worst flirt.”
A muscle flexed in Emmett’s jaw.
I recalled the charming man with dark hair and blue eyes at the coffee shop on my first day in town. “I think I met him already.”
“He’d be good to get on your team,” Emmett said. “So would Hazel from the animal hospital, but I haven’t seen her.”
“I know her, actually.” My cheeks flushed, unexpectedly. “She was Remi’s classmate, when he and I were married.”
“Married?” Missy’s thin eyebrows arched.
“Yeah, but it was a long time ago,” I explained, even though it wasn’t really their business.
Emmett had frozen with his beer halfway to his lips. “What are the odds of that?”
Missy’s face had gone blank. It was seamless, as if she’d practiced for her therapy sessions. “Have you kept in touch since the divorce?”
I huffed a laugh. “No.”
“So, this came as a shock?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Well, I hope this reconnection is positive.”
“It’s been weird.” I paused, considering. “But I’d say positive.”
“That’s wonderful.” She smiled, and I wondered what she was thinking behind her gray eyes.
“It is,” I agreed.
“Anyway, you should meet Benji.” She held up a delicate finger and called in a voice that somehow carried over the laughter and talking around us without being loud, “Ben.”
A few feet away a man with the sandy brown hair poured a beer from behind the bar. “You done with your Manhattan already, Miss?”
“No, come over here.”
He looked in our direction, then did that very flattering thing, where his eyes snagged on me before widening.
Missy rubbed below her ear. “Heads up, he’s a bit of a flirt too.”
Benji took a few steps toward us wiping his hands on the towel over his shoulder. “Hi I’m Ben.”
“The Ben of Benji’s Place?”
His eyes got extra crinkly as his smile broadened. “That’s me. And you’re Alicia.”
“How did you know?”
He tilted his head toward Emmett. “Deb called me a couple of days ago and said you’re here with a mission.”
“Your mom is a gem,” I told Emmett.
“She’s great. She’s my aunt actually.” Ben circled his finger indicating Missy and Emmett. “We all grew up together.”
“Are you their cousin too?” I asked Missy.
She shook her head emphatically. “No. Family friends.”
“I wanna to talk to you, but I’m on my way out. Can I get your number to set up a meeting? See how I can help out?”
“Yes, please.” I would take all the help I could get.
He snagged an order pad and I jotted my information down. Promising to set something up with me, he waved goodbye.
Missy left shortly after finishing her cocktail, claiming that Ben made the best Manhattans.
Emmett watched her leave, and the briefest flash of longing surfaced in the depths of his eyes.
I wondered if she knew. If she understood it.
The unfulfilled need that surpassed desire.
The way it could bore into your soul and make you want the one thing you couldn’t have—something so far out of reach you couldn’t even voice it to your closest friend.
I slipped onto her vacated barstool, pretending like I didn’t notice anything, as if I didn’t feel gutted by proxy.
We fell into an easy conversation about our work, and as people passed by he’d call them over for an introduction.
Somehow I’d drank a glass and half of white wine from some local winery when the backdoor to the patio swung open, carrying new voices and laughter over the din of the bar.
The receptionist from Remi’s vet clinic walked side-by-side with a shaggy haired man I vaguely recognized.
Then there was Remi.
My stomach dropped like falling down the first hill of a roller coaster. The lights brightened, and I swear I could hear them buzzing over everything else. A shiver ran down my spine that I tried to hide by taking a drink of my Chardonnay.
But I knew it was there.